#that she couldn't find a phone case of acceptable quality. so she had to go with the meme movie

[ronqueesha]

Horrific idea: Saints Row Iona has a Morbius phone case.

Other people think it’s a self-referencing joke about her well known vampire obsession. In reality, she unironically loves it.

[deliciousangelfestival]

My Problematic Girl-Chapter 7

Character: College!Steve Rogers x Rich!Female Reader

Words Count: 1,200,-

Prologue:  Steve has lived being nobody in this prestigious university. He just wants to graduate and get a job to get more money to pay the bills for his mother's surgery. 

But his life turned upside when a new student attended his class. His quiet and dull life became dangerous and full of surprises.

A/N: In chapters 6 and 7, we will learn about Y/N's background story. 

×××

She exhaled the cigarette smoke from her lips. She still doesn’t care even though he told her he has asthma. 

She looked at Steve and said, “Bark for me.”

Steve felt humiliated, and his pride was crushed. But she held his life and secrets. He had to bury his dignity to the ground, and he murmured, 

“Woof.”

******

I would appreciate any comments and feedback you can give me. 

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Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9,-

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Y/N has never stepped into the Solomon house again since that day. Brian became a famous lawyer all those years, and his image as a loving husband and father towards Sophia and Sarah always appeared in the newspaper since Sophia was a socialite. 

One day, on her 15th birthday, her father called her. She thought he had realised his mistakes, but she became more disappointed. 

It turned out he asked her about the share from Starks company. Back then, Stark was just a small company, but now it has become an industry and beat Solomon company. It was unpredictable and put shame, especially on the main family of Solomon. They want some share from the Starks. 

Brian remembered his deceased wife owned a share at the Starks industries. How surprised he was when he discovered that Evelyn was the top main shareholder, and she gave it to Y/N. 

He wants it. 

Y/N rejected him upfront. He has taken everything from her, her mother, and her ability to play the piano, and now he wants to take the last gift Evelyn gave her. 

“Don’t you ever feel sorry about your wife?"

"Your anger means nothing because it doesn't change anything."

"Don't you know what today is?"

"What?"

"Today is my birthday."

There’s no guilty expression on her father's face. He typed his phone without looking at her. "Do you want to have dinner here? I'll call Sophia and Sarah."

Y/N scoffed. "Goodbye, Father."

"You should've said see you again. It seems like you don't want to come back here." 

She ignored him and left. Nothing here made her feel at home as long as she stayed with Stark's household; that's enough. 

She should've made that wish in front of the birthday cake with a candle to make it come true. 

Because Howard and Maria got into a car accident three days after her birthday, the bridge they drove through collapsed.

Tony couldn't accept his parents being gone. He searched for the answer and found an inspection about what there was. The quality of the materials is poor. And another important clue is that the company responsible for building this bridge is Solomon construction company. 

He already has the evidence, but the court denied the case. Say the evidence is not enough. That must be her father doing.

Y/N want to burn the Solomon company to the ground. But she remembered her anger was useless. She needs a bullet to shot. 

Solomon became untouched after her father joined the family. No law can bring them down. That means she has to understand their mind and her father. 

"I will go back to that house to find the evidence."

Tony shook his head. "No, you will die if you stay there." 

"Whatever it takes to find the evidence."

Y/N went back to the prison house and became invisible. If she has to suffer, so be it to find any document related to her mother, Sophia's first husband and the collapsed bridge. 

But she got nothing. 

Then there are left 2 options—the document could be in her father's law firm office or with Maximus. 

Since then, Y/N has studied all the time to become a lawyer. 

But then her father said no. She must enter medical school at the Imperial University to become a doctor. 

"You want me to become a doctor to help your stepdaughter if she finds any difficulty at the university."

"That's right. Both of you need to help each other. Your grade is more than enough to enter the Imperial University."

"No, you want me to be her loyal dog like you with that woman. I don't owe anything to these people!!!"

"Y/N, just listen to what I said for your good."

"Fuck you!!!"

Y/N clenched her fist even though it was painful. 

She doesn't want to be a doctor. It was Sarah's dream, not hers. 

Y/N must save her place as a law student; to do that, she must meet Maximus.

Her father underestimated her. Not just him who knew how to blackmail; she also got dirt on that old man. That was the first time she learned that blackmail was useful. 

Her trick worked, and she entered law school without any problem, and there she met Brock Rumlow. A bright and friendly person. Both of them start as friends, and he is always there when she feels down. 

With one goal in her mind, Y/N was able to graduate faster than her classmates and join her father's law firm. 

At her father's law firm, Y/N didn't find anything that related to the case, but she found a clue that Maximus had it. 

But before she met Maximus, she got kicked out from the family because of the case she handled vs Imperial University, and she rejected the engagement with Brock Rumlow after she found out he's been with Sarah all this time. 

"How does it feel to lose?"

She hates it.

"You could ignore me as your father, but you can't deny my blood ran in your veins."

"It's true, but I won't be a loyal dog like you."

Brian smirked. "In this world, you need power to survive and not be underestimated. Kindness won't make me rich, Y/N."

"Is that why you left your wife? It's never enough for you!!!"

Brian sighed, he loves Evelyn, but it's not enough. He wants more. He doesn't want to live as middle class for the rest of his life. Especially with his job as a lawyer. Reputation is important in the industry. 

When he met Sophia, a stupid but ambitious woman, he admired her greed and honesty to get whatever she wanted, and she could hear it because she was a Solomon. 

His biggest regret is that Evelyn found out about his cheating. If she stayed quiet and did not ruin his reputation at his office, they wouldn't fight, and Sophia would only be his mistress. 

Brian wishes his daughter could have the same view as him, but it's difficult to tame her. 

"If you just sit still, you could enjoy the good life of being Solomon."

How? All he ever did is taken everything from her. "When you die, I'll laugh on your grave."

"If you make another problem, I will make you lose your lawyer’s license and send Lilly somewhere else, and you'll never find her."

Y/N snapped; there's no right and wrong to her anymore. She approached her father, her hand reaching his neck and strangling him. "Just once, please be a father to me."

"Uurgh." Her hands are on his neck, but why does she have difficulty breathing? 

"Y/N!!!"

That voice. Steve? She looked right and left, but where was he?

"Y/N!!! Wake up!!!"

When Y/N opened her eyes, she was confused; her eyes weren't accustomed to brightness. Her hand covered her eyes. "Steve? What are you doing in my place?"

Steve's hands hold her shoulders, "Tony called me. You don't realize you have a seizure in your sleep?"

Thank you for reading. I hope you like it.

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I will always be grateful for those who reblog. Thank you so much.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, - Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9,-

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[gyucore]

in the orb

pairing: trapped soul! beomgyu x reader

tags: fluff, angst if you squint, reincarnation au, supernatural au

word count: 1.8k+

warnings: implications of death, light swearing

— you were cleaning your grandmother's attic when you stumble upon an old glass orb that just happened to talk on its own

A cloud of dust scatters around the room after you drop the glass orb on a particularly dusty couch. You've lost it. You've definitely lost it. You're quick to cover your face with your sleeve, fighting back the urge to sneeze. The orb sits still on the couch as it should, a sheet of gray still masking its surface.

This was supposed to be an average weekend. Your grandmother had invited you to her house for some quality time together during your break, and you thought you'd offer to help her clean her mess of an attic, to which she was more than happy to accept. And right now, the sweet old lady was tending to her garden downstairs while you were up here, freaking out.

It's said that people often imagined hearing strange noises when frightened and alone. And you were in a dark and creepy attic at an old person's house. This could just be another case of the common I'm-so-lonely-I'm-starting-to-hear-voices scenario. It's simply wasn't possible for a dusty old orb to start talking when you pick it up. It's just not.

“Hello?” You call out, immediately finding yourself silly for even attempting to communicate with an inanimate object.

The dust in the room eventually settles, and yet still no response. “See, Y/N? You were just hearing things.” That conclusion seemed convincing enough. You felt the need to give yourself a good pat on the shoulder for going along with the sane route.

With that dilemma out of the way, your attention couldn't help but wander back to the large piles of junk occupying nearly every space in the vicinity. One could only hope for your grandmother to clean regularly. “Right, now back to work.”

“What work?”

“Oh, you know. Cleaning.” You answer its question from earlier.

You freeze, eyes wide, a chill running down your spine. There it was again. You weren't sure if you heard it right this time or was just hallucinating, but there was one way to find out.

Silence. You almost called it a day after considering that you were probably just tired and needed some rest.

Half a step outside the door and the voice spoke once more. “Are you still there?”

You pause, brows raised, and back still turned. Somehow, you didn't know if it was safe to face the big ball of dust just yet. “What do you mean? Of course I'm still here. This is my Grandma's house.”

Thank the heavens for modern technology and the invention of smartphones. Speaking of which, you fish for yours in the depths of your pants’ pockets. The voice recorder app should come in handy during times like this. You know, to confirm you're not crazy. With the app on, all you needed to do was have the orb talk again.

“Grandma? Oh! Then you're her grandchild?!”

“Uh, yeah?” The orb apparently knew your grandmother. Strangely enough, that was the least odd tidbit of information you obtained today.

“Her grandchild.. Wow, to think I'm finally meeting you! Or at least your voice?” The orb lets out a giggle and the more you heard it talk, the more human it sounded.

“Sorry, can you excuse me for a minute?”

Never in your life had you thought the day would come where you'd be excusing yourself from a conversation with some sort of decorative object but life has its ways. You were never a stranger to off days anyway.

“Oh, sure, uh, go ahead? I can wait.” The orb swiftly replies. For a second, you could swear something was moving from inside the orb after the light outside the window had hit a clear spot in the crystal.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the room as you dash downstairs, taking your phone out and bringing it closer to your ear, replaying the recording. Sure enough, the voice was caught in the audio loud and clear.

“Holy shit. I'm not crazy.” An exasperated sigh leaves you as you slump back on the wall in disbelief. For a moment, you considered running away and warning your grandma about the cursed object, but part of you was curious enough to disregard the warning signs, and possibly risk your life by going back up there and approaching the thing. You decided to go with the latter.

“Are you back?” The orb asks once you've gotten close enough for it to hear your footsteps.

“Yeah. Just had to do something real quick.”

“I see.”

You wait for the orb to continue but it doesn't. It continues to lie on the couch lifelessly as if it hadn't been speaking to you in the past few minutes.

“Um..” You clear your throat, hoping to get another response

“Oh!" The voice from the orb seemed startled after hearing you talk. “How are you're still there?”

You frown. “Why wouldn't I be?”

“Well for starters, a talking glass orb isn't quite the public friendly concept you'd think it'd be.” It answers. Only now have you noticed that the orb had a particularly low masculine voice. “People don't usually stick around long enough to find out why I can talk in the first place.”

You blink. “Fair point. Though, I don't see the need for you to ask over and over again when I already said I was back.”

The orb chuckles. “You'd be surprised how many times people have reassured me of their presence only to leave halfway. Plus, I can't really see you right now to actually know you're there.”

“You can't see me?”

“The dust.”

“OH.” Not knowing what came over you, you immediately lunged forward and started wiping the orb with one of the dust rags you had lying around. It didn't take long for the thing to clear up and look like its old glorious self again. “How about now?” You ask, inspecting the orb as you hold it up.

“Better.”

It takes everything in you to resist dropping the orb on the floor when a glowing face of a man appears from the inside, smiling brightly at you. “I think I'm gonna pass out.”

The man visibly panics, pressing his face closer to the glass. “Wait no! If you pass out now, I won't have anyone to talk to! I haven't spoken to a single person in decades!”

“But you mentioned my grandma earlier, I thought you—”

“She could never hear me, but I could see and hear her.” The man explains, his voice a little quieter than before.

You bring the orb down, still cupping it in your hands. “How is this possible? Are you a ghost or something? How did you get in there?”

“Wouldn't you like to find out?” He winks, resting his head on his hand. “Take a seat and place me down somewhere soft.”

This seemed ridiculous by all means, but you oblige. The couch should be soft enough, and so you place him down gently while you take a seat on the floor, making yourself comfortable. “You were saying?”

“I—” The man accidentally bumps his head onto the glass as he leans forward, chuckling as he rubs his head gently. “Ow. Sorry. I'm just so happy to finally have someone to talk to. You can't imagine how long it's been. How the world survived without a single soul hearing my heavenly voice for all those years is beyond me.” He cracks a joke and you couldn't help but laugh.

“It's okay.” You say, shifting in your spot. “Go ahead.”

The man nods, the smile slowly fading from his face. “My name is Choi Beomgyu. You can call me whatever you like. I had a friend once, and she was a witch. Oh— not the kind that you hear from stories, no. She was really nice and cared a lot about nature, her friends, and her family. That type of person, you know?”

You nod along, assuring him that you were listening, and he smiles again.

There's just something about his smile that just seemed so happy and endearing. Perhaps it had truly been so long.

“She was this ball of sunshine. And back then I was a pretty different guy. Our personalities might've clashed and we butted heads a few times but somehow we ended up becoming close friends.” A faint smile graces his lips before disappearing as quickly as it came. “But then I got involved with the wrong crowd.”

The statement piques your interest and you draw closer. Beomgyu notices this and tries to talk louder.

“Remember how I said she was a witch unlike the ones in the fairy tales? Well, there were also people who were exactly like those witches. The ones that used their knowledge and abilities for their own nefarious purposes.” Beomgyu continues, his hair slightly covering his face as he looked down. “Let's just say that I got myself in a situation where they ended up hunting me down for my soul.”

“What?”

He frowns. “My friend saw me being chased down the streets one night and helped. We both knew that even when together, we were too weak to go against all of them. They had us cornered in her home, and that's when we knew it was the end for us.”

Beomgyu's voice started to waver as he spoke and you were about to ask him if he was alright, and tell him that it was okay if he didn't continue but the look on his face when your eyes met was enough to tell you that he needed to do this. He must've wanted to talk about this matter for so long, you think.

“She.. pushed me towards her workroom, telling me that she'll keep me safe no matter what. I didn't know what she meant until she cast a spell on me and I passed out. The last thing I heard were her screams. I never found out what happened to her after that, and I can only assume the worst.” He shakes his head, trying to getting himself together in front of his new friend. “Next thing I knew, I was inside her old glass orb. I've been trapped in this thing for years with no escape. No one to talk to— forever regretting how I didn't stop her that time, and regretting getting in the way of those witches in the first place.”

His story nearly brings you to tears, and before you knew it, your hands were reaching out for the orb. “Beomgyu, I..”

“It's alright.” Beomgyu smiles. “In the end, the orb ended up in her younger sister's possessions.”

Your eyes widen. “You mean.. Grandma?”

“That's right.” Beomgyu chuckles. “Though she had never able to see or hear me, unlike you.”

“Oh. That's uh, too bad.” You smile awkwardly, releasing the orb. The two of you sit in silence for a while, both needing a little mental break after that.

Shortly, your attention was brought forth back onto the orb when you hear Beomgyu laugh. You find yourself chuckling along. “Entertained are we, Gyu?”

The laughter stops and his eyes shoot up at you. You hear him mumbling something incoherent before hesitating to speak. “No, no.” Beomgyu shakes his head. “It's just.. It's kinda funny. I'm trapped here repenting for my whole life because of what I've done to her, or thinking about what I could've done.. but you know what? To be completely honest, I was starting to forget what she even looked like. But looking at you now, and hearing your voice..”

The idea popped up in your head and you weren't sure if it was even possible to begin with. But then again, you were talking to a soul inside an orb.

“You were easily granted access to the true nature of the orb, and are the first person to have ever done that without running away.” He kids. “Could it be?”

“I wouldn't count on it.” You tell it to him straight, getting up from your spot on the floor and dusting off your jeans. You knew what he was implying and there was no way that you were even considering yourself to be your great aunt's reincarnation no matter how ridiculous the situation already was. “I'll get back to cleaning. Feel free to talk while I do that.” You tell him before rushing to the other side of the attic, avoiding his gaze as much as possible. You'll figure out what to do with him later.

Beomgyu watches you fondly. You had told him to not even count on the thought of you being the one he's been hoping for all these years but it was too late for that now. 

“Entertained are we, Gyu?” Her voice rings in his mind, and he shakes it off.

“How do you always manage to do such amazing things? I'd appreciate it if you'd stop stirring my heart.” Beomgyu's gaze rests upon your busy silhouette, and he smiles in content.

“It's nice meeting you again, Y/N.”

[breakfast-cereal]

Stupid For You (2) -Johnlock

← ← MAIN MASTERLIST

← PART ONE

PART THREE

!¡Trigger Warning¡! DO NOT IGNORE!: mentions to drugs and addiction, alcohol use, vomiting, hints to declining/poor mental health.

Rosie's hair was in a slightly dishevelled braid that reached just above her shoulder blades

"Youtube seems to be helpful for tutorials. Slightly inaccurate, though." Sherlock looked as if he was about to write down notes.

"It's YouTube, Sherlock." John looked at Rosie who had a massive grin on her face

Rosie rushed to Sherlock and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you, daddy!"

Sherlock didn't seem to protest and accepted the role of a father figure to Rosie. John was confused by this. If Sherlock was a father figure to Rosie wouldn't that insinuate that he and John were together? Does that not bother Sherlock?

"No problem." Sherlock ushered Rosie back to her room and then sat back down to work on the case.

John sat on the couch, sneaking glances at Sherlock while watching some sports game on the telly. He reached for his phone on the table and scrolled through it while watching the telly and concentrating on Sherlock. John was hoping this would have some distraction from his headache. The light from his phone just seemed to make the headache worse. John had opened google and was staring down at it. His headache was horrible and those confusing feelings had returned to plague his thoughts. Without thinking, John entered "John Watson and Sherlock Holmes" into the search bar and entered it. He looked around anxiously as if someone was going to pop out of any corner and catch him looking at this. The worst would be Sherlock. Results popped up raging from "Johnlock" blogs to articles describing their relationship. John clicked on the first article and skimmed it until reaching a part that specifically piqued his interest.

Sherlock Holmes and his partner John Watson's relationship is obviously less than platonic. Relationship expert, Tiffany Laines has confirmed multiple theories with her video "Debunking 'Johnlock'." Laines stated in her video that "Holmes and Watson are very close for just roommates. It seems it's Holmes&Watson rather than just Holmes and Watson. Based on body language queues, like the leaning in from Watson, and the way Holmes' colleagues described him as brash whereas it seems John does not find him that way. Can this mean Holmes treats Watson differently? Of course, we can never be sure with their limited interaction, but my speculation is something is going on."

John read over that paragraph multiple times. He read it for what felt like hours. He stared and analyzed it wanting to know what they meant. What the secret meaning could be even though the truth stared back at him. He wanted to throw his phone. Launch it across the room. Find whoever wrote that article and beat them. Instead, John put his phone down and made his way up to make some tea.

"Tea?" He asked into the air, hoping Sherlock would maybe answer.

"Yes, that'd be nice."

John prepared two cups and watched while the water boiled in the kettle. He listened to it fizz and at some moments John wondered if it would boil over. John could be compared to a kettle. He would fizz and bubble until he reached a point where he would just stop or boil over completely. John believed he was a calm individual, though he wasn't. It's hard being calm when you're rather vigilant all the time.

"I've got it!" John spun to see Sherlock pacing around the house frantically. "It was so obvious how could I have not gotten it!",

"What?",

"It's objects! The numbers were words and the words were objects. I've got a lead, John.",

"How did you manage to get that out of a sheet of numbers?" John was impressed. Well, not impressed, because Sherlock could solve a murder with his eyes closed and hands tied, but his skills were always impressive.

"It became quite obvious with hints. The necklace the woman had is a precious object so at first, I thought it could be something expensive, but there's nothing expensive in our flat. Yes, I'm assuming it is in our flat, as the woman left these papers in our flat rather than taking them to Mrs. Hudson, or some other person. Of course, maybe it's just because she was one to visit us, but with the pieces of paper originally the coordinates seemed to also have directions that were rather similar to the way to get into our flat. To sum it down simply, there's clues in certain objects in our flat." Sherlock seemed so animated when he talked about these things. He always strived for perfection and clarity on his cases and when he got it, it's like it sent him into a high. "Don't drink the tea, by the way.",

"What's wrong with the tea?" John felt overwhelmed with this information. There were hidden messages all over the flat. What if he stepped on one? Or got it wet?

"You added milk to yours. It's expired. Strange you pour the milk before the water." John looked at the milk in his cup that had small chunks in it and dumped it down the sink, sugar swirling down with it.

The kettle finished as John was there and he poured it into Sherlock's cup. He waddled over to Sherlock's desk and placed the tea, noticing the messy state of affairs. Sherlock's desk had papers all over it. The papers in the centre focus were the ones from the most recent case. One paper had computer, Jane Eyre, heart, written on it, while all the others remained blank.

"Heart?" John felt a strange feeling when Sherlock looked panicked. Sherlock looked like that word wasn't supposed to be written.

"Likely mistake. I don't know why that word is there. Stupid mistake." Sherlock quickly flipped over the paper and overemphasized the grab of the cup. "Go watch telly or something. I'm busy." John hated the way Sherlock would brush him off so easily. Even with living with him all these years he still couldn't brush off the hurt it caused. He wanted to get his mind off this, but his mind immediately went to drinks. With what John remembered happened last night, drinking was the last thing he wanted to do. So instead, John left the flat.

He walked the opposite way from the pub. His mind thought of one thing and one thing only; Sherlock. He felt like one of those articles as he speculated what heart could be. Does Sherlock have a secret photo album of Irene Adler? John was sure that Sherlock didn't have any human organs (they had cleaned all those out after John screamed at Sherlock over the fact that if Rosie ever found them she'd be terrified.) Was heart meaning that Sherlock's heart had been taken? Was he in love with someone? John felt a spike of jealousy and resent for whoever this person was. How dare they have Sherlock's heart. Why can't it be John? John paused internally. Why was John so jealous? He didn't like Sherlock. He never liked Sherlock. Sherlock was a friend, but friends don't get jealous over their friend's relationship because they want it to be them. Maybe John wanted Sherlock as a little more than a friend, but he only liked women. His brain was just being weird again. It's because he hadn't been with any women in a while. He just missed Mary, and Sherlock was the only person around that he could be with, so his brain was just skipping to conclusions. John needed to meet someone. There was one person that came to mind, the woman he had met on the bus. He had always wanted more and now was the time for that. He could unblock her number and text her. It would be something that has no strings attached. It will help John get his mind off Sherlock. He'll be able to realize his feelings were stupid.

When John was back at the flat he felt strange guilt. Like sending a text to this woman would be cheating on Sherlock. Sherlock wasn't romantically interested in John at all. John stared at his phone and the text that was sitting and waiting to be sent

Would you maybe want to meet up sometime this week?

John shut off his phone, he needed time to consider. He wasn't sure what he wanted. He wanted something. He wanted someone, but this just didn't feel right to him. She didn't feel right for him. He felt like he would be using her. He would use her to distract himself from his own problems. He didn't need a distraction he needed advice. He really needed advice. Who was he supposed to get advice from?

John sat at a small table with a pink linen table cloth on it. The chairs were rickety and felt as if they were going to fall apart any moment, whereas the table cloth looked pricey and was clearly good quality. It had ballerinas dancing on it, and could definitely be used as a small blanket.

"What are you here for, John?" Mrs. Hudson asked,

"I need some advice." John expected Mrs. Hudson to be the last person he went to, but there he was, sitting in her flat.

"Aw, did something go down between you and Sherlock?",

"No, no, that's not it. Well, I mean. I don't know." John wanted to smack his head into the desk. "I need advice on feelings."

"Oh, John," Mrs. Hudson sounded genuinely caring. Or maybe John just wanted her to care.

"I'm not in love, before you think I am. I'm just confused and I want advice.",

"Is it Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson knew before John. The articles knew before John. John realized with those words, that he was indeed stupid for Sherlock. He had to admit it to himself. He can't deny it all.

"I don't like men." Denial, denial, denial. All he did was deny. He had realized, but he wasn't going to acknowledge it. He may know, but if he ignores it, it's not real.

"I may be your landlady, but that doesn't make me oblivious." ,

"But I'm not-"

Mrs. Hudson interrupted him, "my advice is to stop denying it."

John pushed up from the table, shocked the chair didn't crumble. "I think that's enough advice for today." He hissed as he left the flat.

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[junipersgarden]

metanoia 5. | Mistake

PAIRING: Peter Parker x Superhero!Reader

SUMMARY: Nick Fury has successfully managed to kidnap Peter and yourself by taking full control over your vacation, Peter’s jealously and love takes control as he targets Brad Davis... quite literally. 

WORD COUNT: 2687 words

WARNINGS: Mention of blood

a/n: i still have to write the next chapter and gonna be honest i dunno when i will but i hope you enjoy this part !!

[NOT MY GIF]

...

On a bus in the Eastern Alps, Austria...

...

"Why does Flash do those livestreams?" You tilt your head to the side as you observe Flash talking into his phone as he exaggerates his current status.

Peter simply shrugs with his mouth turned down and eyebrows raised as you giggle at his weird facial expression.

You and Peter were seated toward the back of the bus and the both of you were stoked that you two finally got to have quality time; a time to finally relax and try and not stress about the Fire Elemental that could potentially destroy all of Prague.

You had to also be mindful of what you said and who you said it to so you don't accidentally expose yourself; sure you'd been Saviour as long as Peter's been Spider-Man but still always kept track of your words and actions.

"So, how have you been Y/N/N? Just, haven't really talked or seen you in a while and I'm really sorry about that." Peter's eyes soften as he shifts to look at you.

Knowing he was referring to Spider-Man duties, you weren't mad or anything at him; the crime rate has risen after the Blip since people left with nothing have corrupted themselves and villains have become more 'popular' merely because the Avengers don't exist anymore.

It was up to you and Peter to protect the neighbourhoods in New York like you two had done in previous years but now you both are expected to carry the mantles of the deceased and absent Avengers.

Yes it scared you to be seen as one of the next Avenger's to promise to live to guard the Earth from any threats with your life, sacrificing everything for everyone to be safe but what scared you the most was drifting from the important people in your life like your family, F/N, MJ, Ned and Peter.

"'M sure it's not your fault you've been busy and it's fine Pete. I'm doing alright I guess; just everything feels out of balance after the whole you know. But I don't wanna waste time sobbing about-"

"Hey," Peter gently grabs a hold of your knee in a comforting way, "I know you're not big on talking about feelings but it's good to let it out; whenever you're ready I'm here."

Peter rubbed soothing circles on your knee with a twinkle in his eyes as if he swore on his life he'd be there for you no matter what.

You deeply sigh and refuse to cry but you placed your hand to top of his, turning your head to face him.

"T-There's something I wanna show you." Peter kept his hand on your knee as he dove, scrambling in his bag he fished out what appeared to a glasses case.

The case looked so familiar to you but you couldn't exactly identify where you'd seen it or what possibly is inside it but it seemed to be important.

"Is this you're way of telling me you need glasses?"

"N-No! I got these off... Nick Fury."  Peter said ever so quietly, afraid someone would hear him.

"O-Oh... what is it?" You lift your hand off Peter's so he can open it.

Peter opens the case and reveals a pair of glasses with a Stark Industries card beneath it.

"Oh god." You exhale as you stare intensely at the glasses and instantly remember seeing Tony on multiple occasions working on that exact pair or wearing glasses so similar to the one's in front of you.

Peter sees your face and panics. "S-Sorry Y/N I shouldn't of-"

"Try them on Peter." You blurt out and surprise yourself and Peter.

Peter nods and picks the glasses and puts them on. "How do I look?"

You look cute.

"You look like Tony." You smile and pick up the card to fiddle with it and turning it over, you see Tony's handwriting and read what he wrote.

"Pete." You nudge him and pass the card to him so he can read it.

"For the next Tony Stark, I trust you. P.S Say Edith?"  Peter reads out loud and gives you a look of confusion.

Suddenly, the lenses of the glasses turn blue as if an AI had been activated.

"Standby for retinal and bio-metrical scan." A female voice from the glasses speaks.

"Peter what's happening?"

"I don't-"

"Retinal and bio-metrical scan accepted." The female voice announces.

"H-Hello?" Peter calls out to the voice in the glasses.

"Hello Peter and Y/N. I am EDITH, Tony Stark's reality, security and defensive system

"So he made you for us?" Peter asks.

"No. But both of you do have access to all of Tony's protocol's."

That sure'd come handy.

"W-What do you stand for and what can you do?" You question EDITH.

"EDITH stands for Even Dead I'm The Hero. Tony loved his acronyms.

"Yeah, he sure did..." Peter agrees.

"I have access to the entire Stark Global Security Network, including multiple defensive satellites, as well as back doors to all major telecommunication networks."

"Woah..." You and Peter say at the same time.

Peter begins to glance around the bus with bewilderment and disbelief.

"W-What can you see?"

"P-People's phones. Like w-what they're on..."

"Oh my god..." You say with astonishment and you can't help but chuckle at your and Peter's discovery.

Peter chuckles along with you and he can't help but grin at you, thinking just maybe, the universe has given him the break and happiness he needs; Y/N is almost back and cannot wait until then or when he finds the perfect opportunity to let his hidden feelings out.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"10 minutes everyone!" Mr. Harrington shouts as the bus stops and everyone jumps to their feet to get out.

Even though Peter's plan was already failing miserably with Paris now out of the trip completely, Peter at least 4 and a half hours just with Y/N without anything going wrong or bad or Brad Davis trying to swoop Y/N away from him was a bonus.

Peter and Y/N had talked for the whole bus ride and shared a few laughs and reconnected more than they have ever done in the last 8 months.

"You go first." Peter offers Y/N to go before him to hop off the bus.

Y/N complied and thanks Peter but as he went to follow her, Dmitri struck his arm out to prevent Peter from walking any further.

"What?" Peter queries as he watches Y/N and the rest of his class walk further away.

Dmitri points and Peter's eyes travelled along Dmitri's finger to a blonde woman with her arms crossed staring at him before disappearing from plain sight.

Peter grips his backpack and began to pursue after her and entered in what was a closed bar and the woman standing with her arms down her sides and noticed something black lying on a fussball table.

"Hello-"

"Close the door." The woman says with an accent.

Peter twists the blue door's handle and closed it shut, giving the woman an awkward smile, started to walk to her and held his hand out for the woman to shake but she stayed perfectly still and unimpressed.

"Um, I'm Peter Parker-"

"Take off your clothes."

I-I'm sorry what?

"Excuse me-"

"You told Fury Spider-Man couldn't be seen in Europe. So I made you this; another suit" The woman leaned toward the table and picked up a black package and gifted it to Peter.

"Oh uh, thank you." Peter grabs the suit but stood with it, not knowing what to do and certainly not wanting to-

"Take off your clothes!" The woman demands in a frustrated and annoyed tone.

"This is embarrassing..."

Peter moves ever so slowly, hoping that maybe she'd tell him not to but she yelled at him to hurry up so Peter dropped his backpack and setted his suit back onto the table.

Here goes nothing...

Fumbling with his zipper, Peter pulls down his jeans and to his horror, the door clicked open.

A beam of white light shone into the room and Peter scrambles to the woman who was reaching for her gun.

"No, no, no don't!" Peter latches his hand to grab the woman's gun and held his other hand as some sort of protection and saw the person at the door was none other than his rival Brad Davis.

"Woah!" Brad peers up from his phone and examines the scene in front of him. "Sorry, uh,  I thought this was the bathroom?"

"This is not what it looks like!" Peter hurriedly stammers.

"Uh yeah." A flash from Brad's phone followed by the noise of a camera click.

"What are you doing-"

"I'll leave you two alone." Brad backs his way to the door.

The woman quickly grasps her gun and aimed it to Brad's head as Peter struggles with his pants. "Don't shoot anybody!"

Peter beckons to Brad to stop so he could explain as he zips up his undone flyer, Peter leaves the bar and sees Brad speed walking back up to the group.

"Hey man look-"

"Look, Peter. I'm not here to judge your life choices, dude. If you want to hook up with some random European chick on our school trip, that's on you." Brad gradually slows down to a stop.

"That's not what that was. Honestly."

"I can't pretend I didn't see what I just saw. I know you're trying to get with Y/N/N. It's obvious. But I like her too."

"Wait a minute, hey, hey you can't show Y/N that photo dude come on."

"But I have to. She deserves the truth." Brad spins back around and jogs to everyone, desperately searching for Y/N.

Peter heaves out heavy breaths; years of friendship and everything could be ruined within the next couple of minutes all because of an out of context photo, stubborn Nick Fury and Brad Davis falling for Y/N too.

Oh no.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hoping back on the bus, you managed to score the backseat and promptly waited for Peter; saving a seat for him again and eager to spend the remaining extra 4 and a half hours with Peter again and possibly trying on EDITH for yourself.

As everyone piled onto the bus and finding their seats, you couldn't see Peter anywhere and worried that maybe something happened to him.

But your concern was turned into disappointment as you saw Peter sit in the nearest seat toward the front, the seat furthest away from you.

Maybe he didn't see me?

As if he'd read your mind, you see Peter shoot his head from his seat, staring down at Brad who was furiously scrolling on his phone and then avert his eyes to you before drawing away.

"Oh." You slouch into your seat and can't help but feel upset in a way.

Peter, again, sticks his head from his seat but is wearing the EDITH glasses and standing up with regret written all over him.

Curious, you sneakily stand up and glimpse out the back window and understand to why Peter's face is as pale as a ghost; a Stark Industries drone was hovering to the bus with intentions to strike.

"Holy s-" Your statement is interrupted by Flash Thompson being punched by Peter Parker.

Did he just punch Flash? About time! But wrong time Parker!

"H-Hey ARIS?" You squeak, heart racing with fear for the safety and lives of everyone.

"Good afternoon Ms. L/N, how may I-"

"Need you to tell me what the hell Parker did." You grumble and aim your wrist at the drone for ARIS to scan the drone.

"Target is Brad Davis and is about to fire in 3, 2-"

Surveying the bus, you spot Brad out of his seat with his eyes on you and without thinking, you leap out of your seat.

"1."

"Brad-" Immediately the bus is taken under and swerves violently, people screaming at the instant motion.

Inertia fails to keep you balanced and you forcefully slam into a row of seats and bang your head slightly on the window.

Groaning in pain, everything around you seems heightened and intensified, vision blurred from the strong and unexpected impact, a weight of someone yanking your arm awakes you from your state and soon realise Brad had dragged you to the floor with him.

"Lookatthebabymountaingoats!" Peter's piped voice strains, begging for everyone to look the other way.

Semi shoving yourself off Brad, you help him to his feet and allow him to go in front of you so he can see the 'baby mountain goats'.

With everyone distracted, Peter springs into the air and through the emergency exit window, you watch with two thoughts: What the hell are you doing and what the hell did you do?

Hearing sounds of the drone malfunctioning, you rotate yourself and see flames being emitted from the drone and wince at the explosion, you crawl back into your original seat.

"Didn't see any mountain goats..." Mr. Harrington sadden utters.

"You missed them."

"I know you think none of us have notice Peter." Betty abruptly confesses.

Your heart drops to your stomach; for sure Peter Parker was not in anyway subtle about being Spider-Man but he did have you fooled for years until- until then...

"But your new look," Oh thank god Betty, "I love it."

Sinking into your seat again, you hiss at the pain of your head and massage to rid the pain but as you land your fingers to the wound, you feel that the back of your head is damp.

Pulling your hand from your head, you gasp as you see blood staining your fingertips; the red metallic liquid decorated with black meant that the wound would be deep if it was secreting your 'black blood' which contained essence of your powers out.

"Damn it."

There was only one way to heal it but that would require for your eyes to fully blackout but the chances of someone seeing your eyes could mean the end of your life but if this patch doesn't heal fast enough naturally without extra energy or power converted strictly to the injury could mean severe blood loss.

Let's do this...

You shut your eyelids and focus intently, a small shallow breath leaves you, feeling your iris and eyes become tainted with black.

You could feel the wound closing up and blood seeping its way back into your body, an invisible wave of energy forms around it and soon enough, the gash is no more but you could tell there would be some sort of mark and continuous aching.

"Hey Y/N, you have to see this."

Opening your eyes, you forget of your darkened pupils and squint your eyes shut and knead them to make your eyes go back to normal.

You'd only seen Brad with his eyes glued to his phone but you had no clue of the people around you.

Going with Attempt #2, you bravely open your eyes and breathe out a breath of relief.

Brad, still retaining to his phone, slides into the seat next to you.

"What is it Brad?"

"It's about Peter. He and this chick were in the bathroom and-"

Peter would never.

"You got proof?"

"Yeah! I got a photo of them; can't believe Peter could do such a thing."

Brad enters his photo gallery and is puzzled as he insanely swipes through all his photos.

"Uh, this is so weird, it was right here on my phone!" Brad tries to justify.

"Uh huh... totally weird... Brad if you don't mind, I'm incredibly tired from almost being killed again and would like to enjoy a nap by myself?"

"Oh, yeah, s-sure..." Brad lowers his seat and goes back to his seat, still hunting for his precious picture.

Bending down, you fish out your pair of headphones and plug them into your phone and open your playlist, adjusting the headphones to your ears and Google 'Popular attractions in Prague' and 'Events in Prague'.

Prague for the meanwhile before getting burnt to crisps better be worth it...

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[mewtwo24]

Heey I love your assessment of Nobu for the character ask! You expressed things I felt but couldn't put into words and gave me more to think about~ (I think about this man far too much already..) So if you're still doing it- May I ask for IkeSen Shingen?

Aw, thank you so much!! I’m really glad I could help you look at it in a new way, I’m always happy to share my thoughts! And you and me both sister, he’s solid 2D tiddy I salute you.

No problem at all! I’d be happy to give you my take on Shingen!!! 

Favorite thing about them:

Ah hell, where do I even begin with him, honestly. It’s no secret to most that I absolutely love Shingen, but if I had to pick a singular quality I think it would be his absolute and utter selflessness. Time and again in his routes we always see him fighting for someone else and thinking about what he can do to comfort the people around him. He spends every last breath he has defending his marginalized kinsmen, trying to find ways to amend his offenses, and assisting the other suitors in their love lives (i.e. Kenshin’s rt). This is even clearer in his POVs; in which his mind is almost always on the other people in the room. How can he better serve them? How can he make them feel better as quickly as possible? What can he do to make their lives easier? And while he can be misguided now and then, he truly does seem to have their best interests at heart, paying close attention to what makes them happy. 

Alternatively, he doesn’t seem accustomed to anybody doing things for him, or wishing for his happiness, which makes it all the more endearing and satisfying when MC does both of these things. 

Least favorite thing about them:

How deterministic he can be. His propensity to analyze every facet of the issue at hand can be an incredible asset when it comes to his political and wartime decisions–I have no doubt it’s the key to most of his military successes, despite his constant disadvantages. HOWEVER. I think Shingen fails to realize–or perhaps more accurately--does this with self-deprecating intent in some cases; this can’t be as easily ascribed to individual people. No matter how much he tries to tip the scales to his desired outcome with meticulously regulated information, people will come to their own conclusions. And I think sometimes he can struggle with that; when people react unpredictably, he’s not used to being caught off guard.

Favorite line:

This was the moment that made me fall in love with him, beyond a shadow of a doubt. It’s one of my favorite lines in the entire game, and was most telling about who he really was at his core. The older I get, the more I feel that understanding and dialogue are the most expedient means of inspiring longlasting change–violence and fear seem much more ephemeral and much more damaging, by comparison.

brOTP:

Honestly, the only thing that really strikes me for this would be him and Kenshin. I find their interactions absolutely hilarious and unexpected; it’s very similar to Sasuke and Kenshin’s dynamic. Shingen seems to understand just how the man ticks, but also expresses a great deal of respect and fond acceptance for  for all his eccentricities. And Kenshin shows equal reverence for Shingen’s mental prowess and combat expertise. I mean, for all his grousing, Kenshin houses him and his displaced vassals, hangs a banner featuring Shingen’s battle philosophy in his own castle, and agrees to ally with him against Nobunaga without hesitation. Sure, Kenshin loves any reason to fight–but to go to such lengths to look after him and his people? I think it’s a very wholesome bromance that isn’t obvious in its strength, and that’s almost what makes it better for me. I think it’s among the reasons I love the Kasugayama dumpsterfire fam so much in general; it’s so unlikely that they’d all be together but they are, surviving on the fringes with nobody to call home but each other. Also I’m a sucker for absolute shenanigans and wow do they provide.

n(br?)OTP:

Honestly, I’m not sure, I suppose him and Kennyo at the most? At least, post-Honganji temple massacre. Following those events it’s quite clear that whatever friendship existed between them has long since dissolved. Shingen can’t abide watching his friend destroy himself in his own desperate bid for revenge, and Kennyo is too ashamed to be around him knowing he has no intention of seeing this mission through alive–or with any shred of dignity. I think Shingen truly does want to help Kennyo heal–and it breaks his heart that they can’t just enjoy each other’s company like they used to. But Kennyo can’t meet him halfway. It’s not that I don’t think reconciliation is possible, but it’s pretty clear the two are in pain just being around each other in that state.

Random headcanon:

I was thinking about this the other day and honestly I just can’t get it out of my head. I like to think that, in his Dramatic End, obviously he goes to the future with MC and he continues his recovery in the place MC rented out. But I love the idea of her working and him missing her all the time, so he does what he always does when he’s feeling down; channels that discontent into making her smile. I feel like if he had a cell phone, he would send her cute little animal pics and memes, compliments, and any silly/fun/adorable thing he could think of. I also like to think they went on lots of dates, and if MC was an intellectual (which she absolutely is) she definitely bought a nice suit just to see those shoulders in impeccable, tailored cloth on a swanky restaurant date at least once. 

Unpopular opinion:

I’ll be frank here, and my apologies if this rubs anyone the wrong way. But wow am I pretty done with the tendency with which I’ve seen some people characterize Shingen as some gross fuckboi. 

Can he be cheesy and ridiculous sometimes? Sure, I’ll grant you that. But I really don’t deem it disrespectful, in that he doesn’t lead people on, or force himself on others, or sabotage established relationships for the sake of his desires. And I don’t think it’s particularly wrong or awful to compliment someone on a quality you deem worth admiration; I think that speaks more to his desire to make people happy than anything. 

And some might argue that he can be over-the-top, off-putting, and/or confusing when he talks, to which I offer: that’s…kind of the whole point? His survival in this time period has relied upon his ability to shift people’s attention away from things he doesn’t want them to see and isolate information that is vital to giving him the upper-hand. Of course his sentiments might be true, but his words dissemble. His entire personality is built upon smokescreens, for the sole purpose of keeping the people that love him (and his enemies) from treating him like a dead man walking–something he tries his hardest to keep from thinking about himself. Of course he’s going to lie and divert attention and pretend he’s okay, that’s what he’s been doing for conceivably his entire life. And while there may be many of you that still dislike him for that; that’s fine. I’m not saying that’s a reason you have to like him. What I am saying is that I’m tired of the blatant misinformation and misinformed analyses I keep seeing regarding who he is and his motives–and the extent of the hostility directed towards him, in many cases. 

All skills warrant a potential for egregious misuse, but that doesn’t necessarily mean Shingen does awful things with his capabilities. I don’t really think he’s a bad man, just a guarded one at first. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Songs I associate with them:

Waiting for Superman - Daughtry

Black Is the Color of My True Love’s Hair (Folk Song, but I’m thinking of the cover by Peter Hollens & Avi Kaplan specifically)

Favorite picture of them:

And here we have another very soft, tender CG. It’s almost like I’m predictable. But in all seriousness, I really do love this depiction of the final scene from the Dramatic End. For a man that’s always been devoting his life to others, it was so wonderful to watch MC ask him to live for his own happiness too. And it was even better to see him agree to that request without hesitation despite his shock. I think one of the things I love best about their dynamic is how much they truly cherish each other, and how attentive they are to what the other needs. MC is always paying as much attention to his happiness as he does to hers, and it makes for a very healthy, happy relationship imo. 

[omgviolette12]

Ten, For The Price of One Chapter 2

Previous chapter

Summary: Loki, also known as “Agent One,” is tasked to invade the life of a potential killer, who decimated multiple members from the criminal organization, Morte. Known for his silver tongue, this mission is just another walk in the park for our God of mischief, or is it?

Words: 2042

Pairing: Loki/ Original Female Character

Chapters: 2/?

A/N: Hello all, thank you for the response to the first chapter! I didn’t think it would get much interest, as I’m still new to the world of writing fanfiction. This is my second story so far, thank you for reading! 

Can also be read on my AO3 a day or several days before, HERE

Taglist: @shockwavee

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

Loki woke up to the scent of burnt food, the smell wafting through the air as the morning light shone through the lace curtains. He sat up on the bed steadily, as his wound was still quite sore.

After he had conquered his target's surprisingly easy pussy, she had urged him to rest after she saw the blood seep through his bandages, and blamed herself for indulging in her ‘sinful desires’, as she called it.

Her behavior puzzled him even further when she suggested that she take the couch, while he could sleep in her room. Although they had already crossed quite a few lines, she insisted on acting the pure virgin.

In any case, he successfully completed one aspect of his mission, and took his time to examine his surroundings.

Just like the living area, her room held a warm, welcoming atmosphere. It seemed she was the girly type; the walls were a soft pastel pink, lined with white lace, and the furniture had a vintage quality to them.

She had a small vanity by the window, that held an array of brushes and other feminine products.

He noticed that the mirror for the vanity had been removed from its place, which he found a bit odd.

When he got up from the bed, the floorboards creaked loudly as he sauntered his bare body to the bathroom at the far corner of the room. When he entered, he noticed the lack of a mirror there as well, and was sorely disappointed he could not admire his reflection.

Aside from that, although the bathroom was a bit too small for his liking, it had what it should.

He finished taking a quick shower, leaving her room with just a towel hung low around his hips.

He followed the smell and...smoke that was quickly becoming thick from what he presumed to be the kitchen.

When he drew closer, he could hear a muttered conversation from the entryway.

“I know, I know.. why do you think I’m doing this?”

“You’re just being jealous. In fact, I haven’t cooked this well in a while...”

Loki’s first thought was that Nya was speaking on her phone. But when he entered the kitchen fully, she was coughing at the smoke, fanning whatever she had in the pan.

Nya looked up, startled by his sudden appearance. She eye’d him embarrassedly before speaking, “Ahm.. sorry, did I wake you? I got up a bit early to make this,” she gestured toward the table, “I salvaged what I could from the groceries I left outside, and made a bit of everything. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so..”

He looked at the table. Although everything looked a bit too...overdone, it still seemed somewhat edible. “I’m not much of a picky eater..” When he moved closer, the woman’s face visibly turned red. She appeared to finally notice his state of undress.

“T-that reminds me, I washed the shirt you were wearing yesterday. I got much of the blood out, but it’s still a bit damaged..I put it on the couch for you, alongside your other clothing.”

Loki let out a low chuckle, before quickly closing the distance between them. “Eager to have me dressed already, pet?”

Nya let out another one of her adorable ‘eeps’ when he trapped her against the kitchen counter, his arms on either side of her waist.

His fingers then proceeded to play with fabric of her shirt, lightly pinching her hip while doing so.

“In fact, with the way you milked my cock for everything it was worth last night, one would think you’d stop being so coy with me.”

Nya looked up at him open-mouthed, her eyes blinking rapidly in disbelief. “Why is it whenever you say something, you make it sound so...so dirty! Besides… I just thought you’d be uncomfortable without clothes, is all…”

She tried to awkwardly move underneath his arms to squirm away, but he kept his grip firm on her hips. He really enjoyed her discomfort, judging by the teasing smile tugging at his lips.

She looked down at his hands before speaking, “Look.. last night was the first time anyone ever...I ever went that far with someone. I...I’ve had a boyfriend before, but the most we’ve ever done is a bit of fondling...I was too scared to ever go further. But with you...I just..”

She covered her face with both hands in embarrassment, ”I just felt like I could finally take the plunge.”

As Nya spoke, she could feel the intensity of his stare. After a moment, she felt his hands tugging hers away from her face.

His expression was one of incredulity, a slight frown on his brows. “You mean to say…”

His eyes perused her body in a perverse manner, before smirking triumphantly, “I am the first one to claim your sweet, tight cunt?”

With the way she accepted his cock without much effort, he found it difficult to believe.

Nya blushed even further, “‘Uhhm, yes.. which brings me to this point,” she cleared her throat, willing herself to look him in the eyes, “since you’re the first man to ever..you know...I just thought getting to know you more would be nice..and set things in the right order. Truthfully, I wanted breakfast to be our first...um...date?”

He now looked as though he was trying to stifle a laugh, which she immediately mistook as a sign of rejection. Nya now looked hurt, and she started to push against his chest to distance herself.

“I don’t know what your intentions were for sleeping with me, but you don’t have to laugh! Believe it or not, there are steps to these things. I read that once you go on five dates with someone you like, then it was okay to finally do the dirty deed, but we-mmph!”

Loki effectively stopped her chattering with a quick, rough kiss. When he pulled back, she looked at him with a muddled expression. “You misunderstand me, woman. And who said it had to be five ‘dates’?”

He grabbed her hands that had been pushing against his chest, pulling her even closer. He then whispered huskily, “Know this--I’m not one to adhere to such rules.”

“However...” He unexpectedly let her go to lean his back against the counter, which caused Nya to let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“To be propositioned in such an adorable way…” He laughed good-humoredly, “I suppose I could indulge your silly dating ritual.”

“Wait, so you don’t mind getting to know me and.. seeing where it leads?” She now looked giddy, her pretty, pink lips stretched into a smile.

Well, of course he didn't mind- that was his job, in the grand scheme of things.

“Do I seem like the type to fuck anything I see fit, then move on to the next conquest?”

Although Nya didn't say anything, her expression told him she believed just that. She averted her eyes nervously, and started to twiddle with a strand of her hair.

Sighing, Loki went to get dressed as she originally requested. When he came back, he watched as she set their dishes in place.

“It's the first time I've ever cooked for anyone other than myself...well, my Nan excluded,”

She placed a tar black sausage on his plate, alongside some…scrambled eggs(?) that shared a similar fate.

After she shared their portions, she stuffed a mouthful of overcooked eggs into her mouth and moaned like it was the best thing in the world. “In fact, my Nan was the one who taught me how to cook,”

Loki picked up a black sausage with his fork, staring at it hesitantly, “Where is your Nan now, if I may ask..”

“Oh...she passed, two years ago. She left me this flat, alongside the bookstore.”

He took a reluctant bite at the burnt morsel before asking another question. Despite its unfortunate appearance, it was surprisingly tolerable.

“What about your parents? I noticed that you have quite a bit of oriental features,”

Nya looked up from her food, her gaze turning pensive, ”From what my Nan told me, my mother was born and raised in England, before she moved to Japan. I was born there...but I don’t remember much about it, despite the fact that I lived there for most of my life. I don’t even remember my father, and as for my mom...just some snippets. It’s hard to describe… but it’s like there’s a huge fog over my childhood…”

Her expression increasingly grew solemn, before she perked up and quickly changed the subject. “But enough about me, how’s your injury? Does it still hurt?”

He was curious, but decided to ignore the quick change of subject. He would find out more, in due time.

“No. After all, you did such a wonderful job patching me up,”

Nya smiled, ignoring the insinuation behind his words, “That reminds me...I don’t mind you staying here..as I said yesterday. In fact, I welcome the company, now that we’re more..um, acquainted. I just don’t have any male clothing for you to wear in the meantime,”

Loki regarded her for a moment before replying, “I could go home. But even then, I can’t guarantee that it’s safe there. I’ll just buy new ones when the opportunity arises.”

“Wait, you actually have money?” It took a moment before Nya realized how strange her words sounded, “Wait-that’s not- I didn’t mean it like that..”

Loki didn't seem offended at all. Instead, he spoke teasingly, “Did you take me for a beggar all this time, darling?”

Nya laughed nervously, “No, I just assumed you were also robbed. I guess whoever is after you…” she stopped mid-sentence as if realizing something.

“I know this might be a sensitive topic… but are you involved in some sort of... illegal business? Is that why I couldn't call the police? I won't pry too much, I just want to know what I'm walking into…”

Well, she was certainly perceptive. The organization was anything but legal, while also holding extensive connections with the British authorities.

Loki narrowed his eyes at her before giving a curt reply, “Yes, and no.”

That definitely wasn’t helpful. Nya knew she wasn’t going to get much out of him, so she promptly gave up.

“Oh! Oh! I have an idea!” Her sudden excitement greatly confused Loki, who now looked at her with furrowed brows.

“Today, why don’t we go shopping for clothes together?” Nya quickly ate the un-identifiable items off her plate, “It could be our, you know, second date!”

Loki could not for the life of him understand her obsession with dates, but he could only go along with it.

After they had finished eating, Nya hurriedly went to change her outfit, while Loki waited by the apartment door.

Nya had a penchant for wearing long, floral sundresses, something he'd come to realize after months of observation.

It fit her well; the dress hung to her svelte figure nicely, all the while accentuating her small, but supple bust. When she walked, the material flowed seamlessly around her legs.

Nya hopped to him excitedly, and he watched her in amusement.

“I take it that you're ready to go?”

“Yep. Oh...wait!” Without warning, she scurried off again.

When she came back, she had a pair of shades, with white surgical mouth masks.

“ Whoever is after you might recognize you, so you have to wear a disguise.

You have...eye-catching features, so this'll have to do.”

She put on the glasses and mask on herself, before donning a reluctant Loki in the same attire.

Loki really wanted to laugh at her poor attempt at subterfuge, but decided to spare her feelings.

With each passing second, this mission was slowly becoming a joke to him. This killer, who murdered at least 20 something of their agents, is rather apt at disguises.

She laughed cheerily, “We kind of look like celebrities, don't you think?”

“ That would defeat the purpose of detracting attention upon ourselves, don't you think?”

She ignored his gibe happily, grabbing his hand before walking down the stairs to exit the store.