#camcorder applies

[astroph1les]

only on camera | e.w

summary: you and your girlfriend, ellie, find an old camcorder at local thrift store. it’s fun, domestic, and sweet until the two of you decide to use it to make your own personal movie.

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

contains: mature content, modern! ellie, established relationship, fluff, smut— oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), reader and ellie are roughly 19-20, ellie is obsessed with reader, reader is described to have a soft stomach and stretch marks so its open to all body types.

word count: 3.3K

a/n: i’ve been debating to post another ellie oneshot and even writing anymore for a while now because of everything that has been going on gaza. i hope you guys click on the links below to educate and keep yourself updated on the horrors that the people of gaza are going through. free palestine.

FREE PALESTINE | DAILY CLICK | DO NOT BUY TLOU2 REMASTERED

It started on a simple thrifting date.

You and Ellie often shopped at your local thrift stores for a multitude of reasons: it's cheap for not only clothing but accessories as well. You had a slight addiction to the purse and jeans section. There was nothing you loved more than finding a good pair of jeans.

But today, you decided to linger in the electronics section. Ellie trailed behind you with a shopping cart that already had a bunch of pants and cheesy graphic tees for the two of you to try on.

You picked up a small speaker, examining it for its quality.

“Ellie?” You hum to Ellie who was already holding up a chunky VHS camera.

“Babe, check this out,” Ellie walked around the cart to hold up the flipped screen to you.

You set the speaker down on the metal shelf, leaning over to see that the early late 90’s camera was still working properly. With just your luck, too, there were a few tapes next to where Ellie had picked it up from.

“Holy shit, this still works?” You grin as you fidget with the settings. “Should we get this?”

Ellie let out a scoff before nodding: “Fuck yeah. We could record videos to look back on when we’re miserable and old as shit. Like thirty or something.”

You shake your head at her dramatics.

“Thirty is not old but yeah, it could be fun.” You lean into her side, pointing to the tapes and charger that were still plugged into the camcorder. “Grab the tapes, please?”

You tilt your head with a smile at her. Ellie blushes at the eye contact you made with her, kissing your cheek before taking the tapes and charger into her hands. She nervously scratched at her ear as she set the objects into the cart where the child seat was, hoping you didn't see how pink her cheeks turned.

God, she was so adorable.

She would deny the accusation constantly with a shake of her head and a mutter of ‘no, I’m not’ being the stubborn girl she is.

After trying that on all of the clothing, you ended up only narrowing down to a few pairs of jeans and the camera plus the equipment. Once you got back to Ellie’s place, it started out with a few recordings of you doing nothing.

“So, vlog, my beautiful, hot, and sexy girlfriend is getting ready for the day,” Ellie pressed record and held up the camera to you who was applying sunscreen to your freshly washed face. “Not that she needs to because, damn, look at her.”

You let out a groan as you shake your head, now applying your moisturizer right after.

“Babe, you can record at any other time. Why right now?” You chuckle as she just gets closer, zooming into your eyes.

“What do you have to say to your future self who is probably already very happily married to me?” Ellie ignores your complaint, grinning as she backs up a little to get your entire face into the frame.

“Is she still giving that good top?” You deadpan to which Ellie chuckles at.

“I wish I could stop, baby,” she cups your face with one hand, smirking from behind the camera.

“Els,’” you trail off, almost warningly as your cheeks flushed.

Without missing a beat, you playfully slap the camera out gently of your face. Ellie dramatically gasps at your actions, holding the camera at an angle so she can clean the lens with her black wife pleaser.

“Hey! You brought it up.” She shrugged her shoulders as if it were nothing, showing off her outfit in the full-body mirror on the back of the bedroom door.

You smile adoringly at her from your set-up in your vanity mirror, hearing her hype herself up. You had just applied a good amount of your base before motioning for her to come over to you once again. Ellie walked over to you, grinning happily.

“It’s your turn, Els,” you grab the chunky camera from her.

She reluctantly lets you take it from her and crosses her arms in front of her chest, looking at you patiently. You pan the camera up and down as she was wearing a very basic outfit but damn, she always looked good. The way she crossed her arms accentuated her biceps and the big tattoo on her forearm.

“What do you have to say to your future self, baby?” You look at her through the small screen and then at her in real life.

Ellie hummed as she scratched at her jaw. The awful lighting from just your open-blind window made it more homey to you.

“You better not fuck it up with this perfect girl right here.” Ellie points to you with a slight grin as she notices your own smile from behind the camera.

A lot of the videos were just like that. Domestic and homey as the locations changed between your house and hers. Joel even made a few appearances like, for instance, his 58th birthday. All of your family and Joel’s threw a barbecue to which you and Ellie had traded interviewing your sides of the family.

Sarah gave a few loving words for her dad, Jesse, and Dina covered the lens the entire time Ellie tried to record them, and your parents made a few jokes about him being ‘damn near in the grave already.’

Now, you were standing in front of Joel who was working the grill. Ellie was busy already tearing into a few hot dogs so you took the time to ask him some questions.

“So, Joel, how do you feel being fifty-eight?” You record him.

“I feel the same as last year. Ain’t nothin’ special,” he shook his head as if you were bothering him but you knew he was just being a grump for the camera.

“Well, birthday boy, describe what it's like being almost sixty,” you chuckle as he places a hand on his hip, looking at you this time with raised brows.

“Old as hell. Now, here, eat.” He grumbled as he grabbed a hot dog for you and placed it on a paper plate.

You giggled as his southern accent was hilarious when he got all grumpy. He just sounded like a Texan grandpa who’s always complaining about kids these days.

“I figured. Happy birthday, Joel.” You warmly smile at him as you shut the small screen and walk over to hug him.

He tensed for a moment, holding the tongs out of the way. He relaxed into your embrace before pointing at your hot dog.

“Thanks, kid. Now, eat before the damn flies get to it first.” Joel kissed the top of your head before releasing your body.

You let out a soft laugh as you grabbed the white plate before walking over to where Ellie was sitting with her step-sister, Sarah. You send Sarah a smile as you set the camera down next to Ellie, watching her lick the mustard off of her fingers. You grimace at her messy eating before Sarah tells her to stop being gross.

Ellie put her middle finger up at her with an annoyed expression. You grabbed her finger and put it down as your parents were only a few feet away from the two of you.

A few more days passed and you and Ellie had a rather sensual make-out session in her bedroom. Her hands were already up your Beatles oversized t-shirt, the feeling of her palms groping at your tits sending shivers up your spine. You were underneath her, your own hands cupping the sides of her face as you moaned softly into her mouth.

Ellie pulled away suddenly which only caused you to whine, missing her touch.

“Can I get the camera, baby?” She asked you, moving one of her hands down to your hips underneath your shirt and squeezing the flesh.

You nod your head frantically, not even hesitating. The idea was brought up maybe two minutes after purchasing the camera. Ellie said it as a joke but you knew that you would make a million sex tapes with your girl. She made you feel like the sexiest version of yourself and you were curious to see what that looked like on video. Plus, no risk of it getting stuck on the cloud of either of your phones.

Ellie leaned down to peck your lips as she stood up from her bed to grab it from the top of her dresser, right next to her cologne. You sit up slightly as you wait patiently for her to start the camera fixing your hair a bit. You knew the footage was solely going to be between you and her but it didn't hurt to try and make sure you look good.

“Look at my pretty girl,” Ellie’s voice is dripping in lust as she points the lens directly at your flushed and panting figure on the bed.

You somehow managed to blush even more, practically beaming at her compliment. You didn't know what to do now that it was a reality. All you were doing was looking up at her from her standing figure.

How did pornstars do this?

“What do you want me to do, hmm?” Ellie cupped your cheek, her inked arm coming into the frame.

Your face leaned into her touch, sighing at the feeling. Her thumb teasing ran over the swollen skin of your bottom lip. Being the horny shit you were, your jaw fell open in hopes Ellie would slip the finger into your awaiting mouth.

But no; she continued to trace the supple skin with a cocky grin on her face.

“You want my finger, baby?” Ellie hums as she tightens her grip ever so slightly.

“Maybe.” You raise your brows, your pupils blown with desire practically giving you away.

“Maybe?” She looks at you with her head tilted, her own brows raised to match yours. “The way you instantly opened your mouth said something way different.”

You shake your head and take her thumb into your mouth seconds after that, sucking on it with a smile. Ellie muttered a curse under her breath as she watched you through the pixelated screen, wondering how she got so lucky with you.

You, being the tease you are, pull away after about a minute to look up at her with need in your eyes. While still looking up at her, you removed your oversized tee to reveal your bare chest. Your hair settled over your shoulders, framing your face perfectly. You were only in your cheeky cotton maroon panties.

“Jesus, fuck me.” Ellie angled the camera down to your tits, having a little too much fun holding it.

“Alright, give me it, Els.” You snatched the camera from her, pointing it up at Ellie’s towering figure. “You want to eat me out or what?”

Ellie couldn't help but chuckle at your bluntness and confidence now that the camera wasn’t on you. Regardless, she kneeled down on the bed with a ready sigh. She leaned over the camera to capture your lips into a gentle kiss, making you smile giddily.

Your smile was infectious, Ellie, too, smiling so much to the point where she had to pull away. Ellie began to scoot more down your body as you pointed the camera down at her figure. She was caressing your sides as her lips kissed at your chest, moving more and more downwards to your tits. Your breath hitches as she takes your left nipple into her mouth, the warmth and wetness of her tongue sending pleasure down your spine.

Ellie palms both of your tits, looking up at the lens and then your flushed face from behind it. She continues to suck on your hard nipple, smirking when your hips buck into her own.

“Feels good, Els,” you whimper, your arms already becoming weaker.

Ellie hums against your damp skin, pulling away to grope and admire them. She was annoyingly still in her sports bra and her boxers, revealing nothing to you. If you weren't so clouded by the want of her mouth on your pussy, you would’ve said something.

Ellie’s long fingers hook at the waistband of your panties, looking up at you with a silent question of if it was okay. You nod with a grin, lifting your hips to help her. Ellie slid the dampened underwear down your legs. You could see the wet patch on the crotch area, a slight pang of embarrassment flowing through you.

Ellie, thankfully, began to place feather-soft kisses on the plush of your stomach. You watch her trail her lips down from your skin, inching closer to above your pubic bone.

“Fuck, baby, look at how wet you are,” Ellie teased your drenched folds, the obscene sound causing you to blush shyly.

She holds up her pointer and middle finger, the clear slick of your arousal glistening. She practically shoves them into the lens as you groan at her actions.

“Els, please, don’t. I don’t want my… juices on the camera.” You cringe at the way you phrased it but end up giggling at Ellie’s disgusted face.

“Well, I love your juices,” Ellie quickly grinned devilishly as she sucked off those fingers.

She drove you insane with the smallest things. When she kissed and caressed the plush of your hips and thighs, whispering how ‘sexy’ and ‘perfect’ you are to her. Even touching into the stuff you tended to be more insecure about like the stretch marks on your body.

You never worried about those toxic mind-consuming thoughts with Ellie.

”Can I see the camera, baby? Wanna get this view right here.” Ellie reached for it to which you handed back.

She aimed the camera lens more towards your crotch, legs spread to reveal how much your cunt was needing some release. You suck in a deep breath and adjust yourself as Ellie muttered praises as she ran her fingers carefully over your throbbing clit and soaked folds.

Beginning to grow impatient, you let out a soft noise. Ellie notices that you are becoming more and more needy for something, anything, so she leans over your panting body and sets the camera on the bedside table. The small screen was flipped so that Ellie could adjust it so that the two of you were in the frame. Your hands find their way over Ellie’s body and up into her hair.

You tug her down into a messy kiss, humming as Ellie is caught off guard by your force and nearly slipping from how she was holding herself up with one arm. She moaned softly against your lips, enjoying how your nails were scraping against her scalp.

She hungrily moved down your body, growing impatient herself. You pant softly as you watch her place messy kisses on the curves of your skin as she finally makes her way to your desperate cunt. You let out a soft sigh as she licks one teasing stripe over your clit.

“Look so pretty, Els.” You murmur as you move her falling strands of hair out of her face, a slight whine leaving your mouth.

And, god, she really did. Her eyelids were heavy over her gorgeous eyes as she looked up at you with a slight smile on her lips. She lazily kissed over the sensitive bud, that cheeky smile growing as your hips stuttered.

“My sweet girl.” She teased two fingers over your wet folds, letting out a groan at the obscene sight.

You continue to caress her face and head of hair, never wanting to tear your eyes away from your girlfriend. She glanced up at you as she carefully slid her middle finger into your warm cunt. She kept telling you how good you felt around her fingers and how much she missed your ‘perfect pussy’.

For a moment, you forgot about the camera that was recording your every move. The mic picks up every whine, moan, the sound of Ellie’s fingers fucking into you.

“Baby,” you pant, allowing your hips to grind and follow her curling fingers.

Ellie merely hummed in question as she peered up at you with hooded eyes. You nearly forgot what you were going to be begging for.

More. You just needed more. More of her touch and her lips everywhere. The tightening coil in your lower abdomen and the desperate hump of your hips alerted you that you were getting closer to your orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum,” you admit, feeling almost embarrassed by how quickly it was happening.

Ellie pulled her mouth off of you as her arm continued to pump her fingers inside of you. Your chin tilts up, hands reaching up to cradle her face. Ellie hungrily leaned down to kiss you, moaning at the sound of you whimpering against her slick-covered lips.

You were whispering pleads as she continued to fuck you like her life depended on it. Ellie leaned back to look down at her movements before glancing at the camera.

“Cum for me, baby. Need something to help me later on when I watch this over and over just to see how beautiful you look cumming for me.” Ellie groans into your ear.

Your hand reaches down to grip at her wrist but Ellie grabs your hand to kiss at your palm as another form of stimulation. You whine as your hips stutter and you feel a sharp feeling running down your spine. Ellie mutters curses as she feels you clamp down on her two fingers as your orgasm takes over.

You let out a few louder moans as you sit up carefully to let yourself ride out the orgasm.

“Fuck, Els,” you whisper as you try and come down from the high as easily as possible.

“Hey, hey, lay back, baby,” Ellie ever so slightly pressed on your lower abdomen so that your back was against the mattress once again.

Feeling light and lazy, you do as she had told you. You take slow breaths as you shut your eyes. Ellie’s body hovers over yours for a moment and you hear the hard plastic being lifted from the bedside table. You open one eye to see Ellie was aiming the camera towards the cum that was leaking. Her already wet fingers were running through your folds, being as filthy as ever.

“How’s it look?” You hum with a playful grin.

“You know, perfect, I guess,” Ellie shrugs her shoulders but her grin tells you she’s matching your energy.

As tired as you were, you wanted to make Ellie feel good too. You sit up to come face to face with her, leaning close to capture her lips into a gentle kiss. Ellie hums against your lips, setting the camera on the empty mattress right next to you both. Pulling away, you take her hand that was inside of you and raise it to your lips.

“You're gonna wanna record this, Els,” You tilt your head towards the still-recording camera.

Ellie didn't have to be told twice as she leaped for the boxy hunk of plastic and aimed the lens at your pretty plumped lips. You lick up the length of her fingers, tasing your own arousal. Ellie watched you through the small screen, wondering how fucking lucky she got with you.

You had no idea who infatuated the freckled girl was with you. Your eyes flickered to Ellie behind the camera, her pale skin practically a poppy red shade from how flustered she was. You popped off her long fingers, kissing the pads of her middle and ring fingers before sitting back on your ass as you looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“You think I’ll be a star?” You ask again, playing into the pornstar role-play.

Ellie blew a huff of air as she cupped your face to peck at your lips: “Without a doubt, babe.”

#ellie williams #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x you #wlw smut #sapphic #wlw #ellie tlou2 #lgbtq community #lesbian

[ridofme1993]

I wrote a review of aftersun for my course and thought it turned out quite well so wanted to share:

A critical review of Aftersun (2022)

For me, Aftersun (dir. Charlotte Wells) can be summarised in a series of images. The first: a young man is balancing on the edge of a balcony. Inside, his daughter is sleeping. The second: a young man has gone scuba diving without a licence. ”He told a porkie pie,” his daughter records herself saying into a 90’s camcorder. ”But he’ll be fine, I’m sure.” The third: a young man is walking alone at night in an unfamiliar city, drunk. He picks up someone else’s discarded cigarette and smokes it. He walks to the beach and keeps walking, with purpose, directly into the sea.  

Aftersun is a story told through one long, almost uninterrupted, flashback. Calum (Paul Mescal) and his 11-year-old daughter Sophie (Frankie Corio) are on a budget holiday in a Turkish resort some time in the late 90’s. They spend their days by the pool, or on guided tours of the surrounding tourist attractions, or giggling about the tacky yet endearing evening entertainment. In the present day, Sophie looks back on the last holiday she spent with her dad. She is looking through camcorder footage, searching for clues, signs that her father was about to slip away from her. Throughout, the film almost seems to audibly, gently chant: I want to remember. I need to remember. Aftersun is a story told with such sensitivity, such beauty and subtlety, that it’s impossible not to let it crawl under your skin. 

Paul Mescal and Frankie Corio are breathtaking as father and daughter. Their rapport is warm and effortless and goes beyond words. The relationship between Calum and Sophie becomes clear through subtle, physical storytelling: a touch of the hand, the tenderness with which Sophie applies sunscreen to Calum’s back, the gentleness in the way they move and talk to each other. The physical storytelling is equally strong when they are apart: Sophie’s furtive, curious glances at the older kids fondling each other by the pool; Calum’s back turned towards the camera as he sobs, his shoulders heaving, the muscles in his back convulsing. The dialogue is beautifully banal most of the time. What carries the story is the relationship between Calum and Sophie which is told through images, and through the way they simply are around each other. Mescal and Corio seem to be living and totally embodying the love between Calum and Sophie, and so as a viewer, I can’t help but believe I am watching real people.

Visually, Aftersun is stunning. It shimmers and sparkles. It’s swimming pool blue and greasy, sun-kissed skin. It’s tacky 90’s eurodance by the poolside bar. It’s arcade games and walkmen and badly-sung karaoke. It looks and feels like that awkward, blooming time at the very beginning of adolescence. Sophie secretly peruses the pages of a romance novel in the hotel reception, she hides in the bathroom and eavesdrops on the older girls’ conversations about their sexual conquests, she watches them kissing their boyfriends in the pool with that pre-adolescent mixture of fascination and disgust. The soundscape, too, feels nostalgic: the same hypnotising, bittersweet theme repeated again and again throughout, as if on a loop. As if to accentuate the fact that this is not the first time this memory has been visited. It has been carefully scrutinized. It has been visited and revisited and revisited time and time again. 

In her review of Aftersun for The Independent, Clarisse Loughry writes: ”It’s difficult to think of the moments before a heartbreak and not lace them with omens. The mind, too often, moulds memories into prophecies. Colours get dialled up. Emotions solidify. It’s a hard thing to talk about, let alone visualise. That’s why Aftersun, the debut of Scottish filmmaker Charlotte Wells, is so astounding. She’s captured the uncapturable, finding the words and images to describe a feeling that always seems to sit just beyond our comprehension.” This, to me, accurately captures Aftersun as an experience. Calum’s many close brushes with death that are pictured on screen seem to be half-imagined by Sophie; an attempt to retrospectively foresee the tragedy that was to come. 

I’ve read a good handful of professional reviews of Aftersun now, and curiously, none of them mention the theme of suicide. Some reviews mention death, some don’t. No explicit mention of suicide anywhere. Why this is, I don’t know. As someone who has lost someone I loved to suicide, I can’t not see it. When Calum matter-of-factly tells a diving instructor that he doubts he’ll make it to 40 and that he’s surprised he even made it to 30. When he walks off into the night on his own, drunk, carrying some pain he can’t speak of. The way his daughter senses it despite his attempts to hide it. Her fumbling, deeply loving attempts to cheer him up: how she gets the other hotel guests to sing to him on his birthday, how she invites him to sing karaoke with her when he seems low, the way she gently makes fun of him. She’s constantly pointing her camcorder at him, asking him questions, as if she knows there’s some mysterious, hidden side to him that she’ll never have access to, something dark and unspoken and unnamed. And, finally, the shot of Calum weeping in some other place, in some other time, followed by a shot of a note saying: ”Sophie, I love you very much. Never forget that. Dad.” 

We lack nuanced stories about suicide in our cultural landscape. Aftersun is a story that neither glorifies, nor demonises. It deals with grief and with the struggle to understand something incomprehensible. It portrays a person who is suicidal, and who is also kind, goofy, loving, sensitive, and an excellent dad. ”You can live wherever you want to live, be whoever you want to be,” Calum tells Sophie, stroking her hair. ”You have time.” We sense that he knows that his is running out.  

Aftersun is a sparkling gem of a film, and it resonates, not only with those who know grief, but with those who know love. Everything about it, from the cinematography to the acting to the soundtrack, feels warm. It feels to me like a meditation on love. At the end, I was left weeping – not only for Calum’s death and for Sophie’s loss, but also for the sheer amount of love between them.

#aftersun #charlotte wells #frankie corio #paul mescal #film

[oohnotvery]

Edges of the Night (Chapter 11)

“She’s waking up.”

Scully blinks groggily, her heavy eyelids struggling to open. As she drifts into consciousness, the part of her brain that has years of medical training tells her she’s coming off a morphine drip because of the way her entire body itches from scalp to toes. She raises a hand to scratch and startles when her wrist meets resistance. Her eyes fly open and she glances down in horror.

She’s in some sort of bed, her hands handcuffed to railings lining the sides, and she can’t move them even an inch off the mattress.  

Her heart dutifully starts to pound in her chest, but she’s momentarily distracted by a throbbing pain rising from her left shoulder. She shifts around to try to get a good look at what’s hurting, and that’s when she realizes she’s in a hospital bed.

She blinks in shock. It’s been a surprisingly long time since she’s woken up in a hospital. When she worked on the X-Files, it was unusual if a month went by without either she or Mulder enduring some sort of hospital visit. But she’s hard-pressed to recall even a single time she got hurt in San Diego. Hospital administrators usually don’t have to deal with on-the-job injuries.

Her shoulder throbs again and she winces. She’s wearing a standard-issue hospital dressing gown, and with some maneuvering, she manages to slip the sleeve off her shoulder. At first, she is confused to see a thick bandage covering her shoulder, but then she remembers. The gunshot. She was shot.

How did she get to a hospital?

Who performed the surgery?

And who handcuffed her to this bed?

And where is—

Mulder.

What happened to Mulder?

If she wasn’t panicking earlier, she’s panicking now. Adrenaline floods her body. Beside her, a heartrate monitor starts beeping loudly.

She glances around, startling when she notices that she’s not alone. There’s a woman standing nearby, dressed in medical scrubs and wearing a mask over her nose and mouth. At the door stands a man. He’s watching her with a neutral expression, but she doesn’t miss the Sig strapped to his hip.

“Where am I?” she croaks, her eyes darting around the room.

The space she’s in gives the impression of a small, private hospital room. To her left is a window blocked with heavy curtains; she can’t tell whether it’s daytime or nighttime outside. Her arms are hooked to a set of IVs. It takes one experienced glance at the drip bags to tell her she’s receiving a combination of fluids, antibiotics, and morphine. Nothing strange, nothing deadly.

In front of her, most curiously, is a television set, beside which stands a camcorder balanced on a tripod.

“Where am I?” she repeats, her voice a little stronger. “Where’s Mulder?”

Infuriatingly, no one responds. The woman ignores her to rifle through a medicine cabinet and when she finds what she needs, she approaches the bed and applies a blood pressure cuff to Scully’s arm.

“Where the hell am I?” Scully once again demands through gritted teeth.

The woman’s eyes shift briefly to hers and Scully tries to scrutinize her, searching for clues and finding none.

“Where am I?”

But the woman remains silent, inscrutable.

How many times can she ask that question without an answer?

The woman leans over to grab a remote control that’s sitting on the bedside table. She points it at the T.V. and the screen slowly fades from black to color. For a moment, Scully can’t tell what she’s looking at. The image is fuzzy and grainy.

The woman sighs aggravatedly and gestures to the man at the door.

“Picture’s not clear. Can they see her alright?”

Can who see me?

Scully’s eyes pinball around the room and she realizes with a start that in her initial survey of the space, she failed to notice the blinking light on the camcorder. She’s being videotaped. Her mouth falls open in protest when suddenly, the picture on the T.V. screen clears. Blood rushes from her head and somewhere in the back of her doctor’s mind, she knows her blood pressure cuff is about to return a very alarming reading.

Because on the screen, as clear as day, she sees him. Mulder, sitting in a chair in a darkened room, his head hanging defeatedly in his hands.

“Mulder!” she calls, and to her shock and surprise, he lifts his head as if he’s heard her.

“You’re awake,” he breathes, and relief crosses his features as he jumps up to stride towards the camera.

She tears her eyes from the screen and shoots the woman a questioning look. “This is happening in real time? He can see me and I can see him?”

With a dismissive nod, the woman turns and starts searching for something in a nearby hospital trolley.

“Scully, Scully, how do you feel?” Mulder interrupts, his voice frantic. “Are you okay?”  

She shakes her head helplessly. “I don’t know where I am. I’m in a—a hospital room, I think—hooked up to IVs, they’ve performed surgery on my shoulder—”

But before she can speak again, the woman has returned to her bedside with a roll of duct tape.

“We’re not here to chat,” she says before slapping a strip of tape against Scully’s mouth.

“No, that’s not necessary!” Mulder pleads.

Scully whips her head back and forth wildly, trying to avoid the woman’s touch, but in the end, her bound hands put her at a distinct disadvantage, and she loses the battle. At her side, the woman gestures meaningfully to the man at the door, but Scully has turned her focus back to Mulder, who’s dragging his hands down his face angrily.

Curiously, Scully realizes that he isn’t restrained. In fact, no one on the other side of the screen seems to be doing anything to hold him back. She can’t quite tell where exactly he is, but it appears to be some sort of conference room. She spies a dark wooden round table behind him and a set of projectors towards the back of the room. There’s something vaguely familiar about the room’s furniture, but she can’t quite place it.

“You ready?” comes a voice in Mulder’s room, and he glances somewhere off camera.

Mulder huffs. “You said we could wait until I’ve talked to her, that was part of the deal—”

“And she’s awake now. Get on with it.”  

A sound startles Scully, a sound she would recognize anywhere: the sharp mental clink of the safety releasing on a gun. She swivels her head towards the sound and terror sluices down her spine. The man standing at the door has approached the bed and now holds his weapon mere inches from her temple.

She swallows convulsively. On screen, Mulder stills.

And then—

“No, no, that’s not necessary!” he repeats angrily. “I’m going to cooperate, I swear! I just want to talk to her, you said I could talk to her—”

“You have two minutes. Talk.”

Mulder curses. “Five minutes.”

“Two.”

“Five—”

“Two—”

Mulder smacks his fist against something hard. “Four,” he concedes with a groan.

A pause.

Someone off camera sighs exasperatedly. “You have three minutes.”

Mulder’s eyes flicker back to hers, seeming to penetrate her gaze even across the distance. In his eyes, she sees a pain unlike any he’s expressed before: a deep, soul-crushing sorrow; a total, utter despair. And overlaying all of that, frenzy and fury.

“Scully,” he says frantically, stepping even closer to the camera. His eyes crease with agony. “You’re safe, okay? I know—I know you don’t feel safe, but you’re going to be okay. They’ve promised me you’re safe. When this is all over, Skinner’s going to come collect you and take you back to—to your life. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

Then why does she have the feeling that everything is not going to be just fine? Her stomach twists dangerously.

He hesitates for just a moment. “You know that I love you? You know that, right?”

She blinks and tears spill across her lashes, rushing down her cheeks and pooling across the tape on her mouth. She recognizes his tone, knows what it means. There is a finality to his words, a desperate, parting-type of energy beneath the surface.

Mulder is saying goodbye.

She wishes she could respond. He deserves a response, and she’s never felt so powerless to help him. Tied to the bed, doped up on morphine, and stripped of her voice, she can’t do anything. Filled with rage, she pushes her tongue out of her mouth and starts working to unstick the tape.

“Jesus,” Mulder continues with a wry smile, “this isn’t the way I ever pictured this conversation going.” He huffs a miserable laugh. “I always imagined something a little more romantic. At the very least, I never dreamed we’d have a conversation where you didn’t try to naysay me at least once.”  

A joyless laugh bubbles up in her chest, shaking her entire body.

His veneer shatters, his smile cracking and head bowing. “Scully, if I could take back these past nine months, I would. I wouldn’t make the mistake of separating us. We’re not meant for—for separation.” He must see something off-camera, because his eyes flicker nervously somewhere stage-right. When he speaks again, there is a hurriedness to his tone, like he’s trying to squeeze every last drop out of this moment.

“Scully,” he continues, eyes darting back to hers, “Scully, this is it, okay? Just—just close your eyes when it happens. I don’t want you to see it. They’re going to give you a good life, Scully. That’s part of this deal, that you get a good life. You’re going to be safe. You’ll go back—” He swallows hard, then swipes angrily at invisible tears on his cheeks. “—You’ll go back to California. But you can’t—you can’t talk about this, not ever. Not even once. You hear me? They’ll hurt you if you let any of this slip. So just, just forget about revenge or justice or vengeance or any of that bullshit. Just live your life, Scully. Have a beautiful life, please, because this is for you. Think of me every now and then, will you? Don’t—don’t get caught up in what happens today. Let this whole thing go, get yourself as far away from this shit as you can. All I ever wanted was for you to be safe. Happy.” He curses loudly, his voice breaking. “My fish are yours, and the Gunmen, if you want them.” He laughs wetly, his eyes drifting to the ceiling. “Check in on them if you can.”

Off camera, someone else seems to be demanding his attention because Mulder’s eyes briefly flit away.

“I—it’s time, Scully.” He looks back at her with a turbulent expression. “You’ll never be alone, not from this moment on. You know I’m crazy enough to believe in things like that, so I hope you know that I’m going to find you, even when I’m dead, I’m going to find you and be with you. Watching over you, protecting you—” Hands grab at Mulder’s arm and he shoves them off violently. His eyes are wild things. “I love you, remember that. I have loved you all this time—”

There’s a shout and Mulder disappears from the screen. The duct tape is peeling from one corner of her mouth, a mixture of her tears and saliva working to unglue the sticky tape. But Mulder is gone, and she can’t even tell him that she feels it too. She slams her fists angrily into the bedsheets, wincing as pain shoots up her wrists.

On screen, the camera suddenly fumbles, then rights itself, and then the picture starts to move. She realizes someone must have picked up the camcorder and started walking with it. Her hands curl into the blankets on her bed.

The camera angle shifts and she sees a door, Mulder standing in front of it, his back to the camera. Someone presses something into his right hand and speaks into his ear. He nods tightly.

The door opens and Mulder straightens his shoulders, then begins to walk.

The cameraman follows him at a distance as they walk down an empty hallway. The floor looks waxy and polished, sparkly and clean.

And she recognizes the tiling. Her heart lurches in her chest.

They’re in the Hoover Building. They’re at the FBI.

And Mulder has a gun in his hand.

Her stomach twists dangerously and bile builds at the back of her throat. It’s clear that these people—whoever they are—are about to get their final wish after all. With a gun pressed to her own head, they’ve assured that Mulder will commit the final, terrible act that will send him and the X-Files into disrepute forever.

With a sinking heart, she realizes that it was likely never their intention to torture her or send her to Mexico for experiments. It was all just leading up to this moment, to Mulder walking down this hallway, to destroying himself to save her.

The room around her goes deathly quiet as they follow Mulder and his cameraman through the Hoover Building. She watches him enter the bullpen, sees their coworkers glance at him dismissively, then in alarm when they notice the weapon in his hand.

Shouts go up all around the room as Mulder raises the gun to his temple. She can see, even through the grainy film, that his hand is shaking. He starts speaking, spouting some sort of nonsense about the X-Files, conspiracy theories, monsters. A security guard starts rushing towards him.

Don’t watch, her mind screams, but how could she look away?

The entire world falls under a spell of silence as Mulder’s finger inches closer to the trigger. The security guard seems to move in slow motion. The office workers are suspended in time. Her own body goes completely immobile. Her lungs refuse to expand or contract; her eyes can’t blink; her muscles won’t move.

She is seconds away from tragedy, and yet she can’t do anything, anything. She can’t even tell him that she loves him too.

It’s this realization that wakes her up. The duct tape falls from her lips and she screams furiously, yanking against the handcuffs so hard she feels them bite into her skin. The woman beside her lunges to shove her down into the bed but her eyes never leave the screen. Mulder’s head turns just slightly, just enough as if to say I hear you, Scully. I hear you.

“Mulder, please—”

The picture onscreen jolts violently and then goes dark. Inside her hospital room, everyone freezes. From offscreen, Scully hears shouting, unintelligible words, and then the heinous, hideous bang of a gunshot.

She screams in fury and bucks forward, kicking and yanking and twisting as violently as she can. The woman slams her into the mattress again and then hits a button, and Scully wails as morphine starts to drip into her body.

Her eyes grow heavy too quickly.

“Is he okay?” she moans, just as the door to her room opens.

Somewhere off to her right, there’s a tense exchange of words and vaguely, she thinks she recognizes a familiar voice. With enormous effort, she turns her head to the side and squints at the door. Tears track down her cheeks and soak her pillow.

She doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or betrayed. Because before her stands Walter Skinner, his bald head damp with sweat, his muscular forearms tense, his eyes tight with anger.

And behind him, looking for all the world like the three stooges that they are, are the Lone Gunmen.

The breath leaves her body as Melvin Frohike shoves his way past Skinner and leans over to press a kiss to her cheek.

“We’ve come to get you, milady.”

#mulder x scully #dana scully #the x files #x files fanfic #txf #x files #msr fanfic #xfiles fanfic #msr #fox mulder

[cadencejames87]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Stark Reader

Summary: You help Bucky with his nightmares.

Honestly, if you read this, I apologize. It's basically word vomit that could have been trimmed. I focused on areas that didn't need to be focused on and glossed over bits that could have been more in-depth; my brain is all over the place these days.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: House fire, death of a parent, PTSD, talks of trauma, hostage, abuse, sad Bucky, sorry if i missed any

*not beta'd thus any and all mistakes are my own*

~Dividers within story by @firefly-graphics~

"You should have seen his face," Clint mimicked the dumbfounded expression that wavered heavily on Tony's ordinarily know-it-all smug mug when he wandered into Clint's safe house not too long ago. "And all this time he's been hiding you from all of us." Clint sets down a large bowl of popcorn and falls onto the couch with the rest of the team, minus Cap and his wingmen, currently on their way back from an extended mission.

Tony wasn't absent in your life, though he wasn't really present either. You were a surprise after a one-night stand with a pretty face changed his life.

Your mother was a nursing student, waiting tables at night. She enjoyed that most nights were quiet enough to sneak in studies. At least they were until an extremely intoxicated Tony Stark stumbled into her diner seeking shelter from the rain, cover from the paparazzi, and a burger with a side of fries to soak up the alcohol.

You could call it love at first sight since he stopped in every night after until she finally agreed to a date. Your mother knew he was a playboy, nothing near marriage material when they met, yet, a girl could dream. Maybe she might be the one to change his ways. She quickly learned how much the man needed to grow up, and those fantasies soon died, but not before she was pregnant with you.

Though your mother refused to jump into a relationship because of one hurdle, which Tony had been slightly relieved to hear, she accepted his need to be a part of your life. No way would she deny that from either of you. He had been nothing but wonderful to her from the moment they met. He was simply not the right fit at this time, and if they would never be anything more than co-parents, she could not have asked for a better partner in raising you.

Of course, Tony being the man he is, tried to pay for her schooling, debts, and even rent when she found her dream space, for a steal, in the heart of Soho. She would never know it was all his doing. He had bought the brand-new building originally advertised as potential office space, had the interior quickly remodelled, and slipped a flyer into one of her books. He even personally screened each and every one of her neighbours and kept the best unit open, denying all who applied until he saw her name on the list.

She rejected his help in her personal finances, though when it came to you, she planned to do everything 50/50. Naturally, he completely squashed that plan, whether it was pettiness or pride, the moment you took your first breath, he was there 100% for you. He covered medical and dental, paid for the finest education, and spoiled you with toys, clothes and whatever else he could think of, despite your mother's objections over lack of space. His presence in your life wasn't just money; he wanted to be there for every school play, graduation, and birthday, even if it meant sending Happy with a camcorder when he was otherwise engaged. He saved all the videos of every milestone, your art projects, and pictures as you grew up.

When it came to college, he set you up with your own downtown apartment in Vancouver, Canada, after receiving a scholarship to one of the top film schools. {Which you turned down so they could offer it to someone in need and kept that little secret between you and your father.} You graduated after a two-year program and chose to continue your education at Stanford. Tony happily helped you relocate. He was so proud of you for going after what you wanted and knocking it out of the park by getting into another top school. He paid the tuition in full and even bought you a car, despite telling him you could take transit if needed. I mean, you did live within walking distance of campus. Anyway, the years flew by, and you graduated with a major in astrophysics and made your way back home to NYC, where you picked up a job as a barista, refusing any more handouts while searching for a more permanent job that fit either of your studies without your father's influence. You wanted to prove you could make it on your own.

After the attack on New York, Tony started rethinking everything. He wanted to keep you safe, which meant protecting the world from more attacks. Maybe he would convince you to work in Stark Tower or a new building he could have built overnight. He also began re-evaluating his current relationship with your mother. Was there hope to rekindle what could have been? A near-death experience will do that to a man. He was finally ready to quit his partying ways and take things more seriously, and all of this over Shawarma with the team.

As he flew over Washington Square Park down Broadway, he could already see the dark clouds of smoke filling Soho. Sirens of fire rescue ring out as people run for safety, shouting about an explosion, bombs, and aliens. Stark makes it through the thick smoke and fights through the flames of your mother's building, searching desperately for her. He finds her in the bathtub, covered in a wet towel, choking on the smoke. Against Friday's advice, Tony removes his suit, places her inside, and sends her out the window.

He scrambles back through the apartment to find the entrance blocked by debris. He searches blindly for the window to the fire escape and breaks out, basically falling down the steps as he scrambles to his escape. As he drops the last couple of feet to the pavement below the fire escape ladder, he searches the street filled with emergency vehicles and first responders. He spots your mother on a gurney receiving oxygen, climbs to his feet and hurries over with a faint limp. The EMT nursing her burns gives him a grim look. “We have to transport her immediately. It doesn’t look good.”

“Well, what’s the holdup?” Tony helps load the gurney and climbs in, taking her hand in his. “Hey, sweetheart. We’re going to get you help, okay? You are so strong! Just hold on a little longer, for our daughter; for me. I love you.” He brushes her hair with his hand and kisses her forehead softly.

“Tony?” She pulls her oxygen mask down to speak. “Take care of our girl,” she breaks into a coughing fit, and the EMT jumps into action, pushing Tony aside to suction mucus and intubate. Tony watches on, eyes filling with tears, feeling helpless as the mother of his daughter, the woman he loves, fights to breathe. The EMT keeps an eye on all the monitors as he pumps air manually into her lungs. When the heart monitor flat lines, Tony feels his own heart stop. He can’t seem to breathe, there's a ringing in his ears. The EMT yells at Tony to take over so he can start compressions.

After your mother’s funeral, you distanced yourself. Tony figured it was probably for the best. How could he keep you safe if his enemies ever figured out who you were to him? The building you grew up in had only been a target as it was a property owned by Stark.

Unfortunately, some enemies were closer than he realized. They knew of you and your mother and why her death hit him so hard that even those closest to him struggled to keep him sober. You were grateful he had Pepper when you disappeared while he was still mourning. However, you didn’t know it until Cap carried your limp body from a room he had seen before, a replica of one he dragged his best friend from before losing him on a mission. He blamed himself for years after for roping Bucky back into the fight. Learning what really happened when they were reunited did nothing for the guilt.

Once Tony finished clearing the building and made it on the jet, you told him you did not want to go home or to the tower, expressing your fear those who took you would know that is where you would be. You needed space and time. Tony understood that, yet his need to keep you safe outweighed everything else. He settled you into a room at the new compound, freshly reconstructed from the old Stark Industries warehouses. You witnessed the evolving relationship between Tony and Pepper as Stark Tower was gradually moved into the new facility before the Avengers would call it home. You loved the impact Pepper had on your father, and seeing him in this new light, taking on more responsibilities, with a newfound passion for his work and the positive changes saving people had created in his demeanour.

It was possible his over joyous personality was in reaction to finally having you home after being gone for three years and presumed dead right after losing your mother. You hated to ruin it, yet you failed to feel comfortable enough to speak about what you went through to anyone, not a therapist, Happy, or your father, who used to be one of your best friends, other than your mother. Ultimately, you decided to distance yourself further from this new life he had built. Whether it was the fear of falling victim again to one of his enemies or just the space and time you needed; without Tony encroaching. He gave you what you needed and set you up in a cabin in the countryside of upstate New York. Naturally, the whole proximity was wired with motion sensors and hidden cameras and had a few suits as security measures stowed in the garage.

Tony still popped in occasionally to catch you up on Avenger gossip, including the falling out with Steve, who you kept in touch with over text. You understood both sides, though if you were to choose whose back you would have, it would be the man used as a weapon, held hostage and tortured for years.

They were unprepared to lose you again so soon when Thanos snapped away everything he fought mercilessly to defend. Though, Tony wouldn't know for sure if you had been victim to the snap for nearly a month after. So when he finally got you back, he promised to hold on tight. You had a new sister and finally sat down to thank Pepper for being there for your father and being just what he needed to keep going all these years.

You all stayed together in the cabin, though you migrated to the studio above the garage, where you often escaped to craft dreamcatchers; a craft you learned in your early childhood from your mother who had learned from her mother. Your studio sessions started with one for yourself when you struggled to sleep before the snap, and another for Tony, when he opened up about his anxiety after you returned. Then one for Morgan, when you caught her admiring one hung in a studio window. One your mother crafted, kept safe in your Chelsea apartment when the fire wiped away everything, pictures, baby clothes, art, report cards, your mother's memories of a life before you, and dreamcatchers she made every year of your life; even the ones you crafted alongside her. After a short conversation with Pepper over tea under the stars, in which she complimented the beauty of your dream catchers and what a shame it was that more people couldn't enjoy them, you made over two dozen more for a farmer’s market.

Tony popped into the studio for his daily chit-chat, wandering the room and appreciating the collection of dreamcatchers hanging all over. “Word on the street is the Capsicle is planning on jumping ship again after this mission.” You had been the one to convince him to stay when no one else could, not even his best friend. Though you had your suspicions, he never really tried, and you planned to ask him when you finally met him.

Now you are sitting in the Avengers compound, getting to know the team and waiting on the man of the hour. Except when he finally walks in with his team, your attention falls to the brunette on his flank. Something about him seemed so familiar, his face, those eyes, that walk. Had you seen it all somewhere before? I mean, you knew of the man from stories and history lessons. In more recent years, the news and Tony's personal ghost stories. Also, Steve had come to visit, the only Avenger who knew of your existence, and of course, he shared a few memories from both the past and present of Sergeant Barnes. He said Tony might be a little indifferent, less sympathetic than he should be, considering their history. He only wanted to give you a chance to hear how he saw him, and when the day came, you could form your own opinion.

As far as first impressions go, he has yet to say hi, and you are drooling over this God of a man. Nope, no, down girl! You take a moment to glance around the room, hoping no one noticed your internal freak out just then. When your eyes return to James, he freezes. He looks at his friend for help, but Steve obliviously continues on as Bucky searches for an escape. He swallows, eyes falling to the floor as he backs away, glancing up with sad eyes once more before turning back the way he came. What the hell was that? “Y/N, I’m sorry about the outfit. I wanted to come and say hi as soon as we touched down. This is Sam.”

Sam smiles flirtatiously, takes your hand, and bows to kiss it. “Down, birdman! That’s Stark’s daughter.” Banner warns.

Sam backs away, hands up in surrender as Tony stares him down. You smile politely and look back to the empty hall. “I was only saying, hi. Besides, I think Cap’s already called dibs with how much he gushes over her.”

“You realize I’m right here.” Stark questions Sam, who immediately mimes zipping his mouth closed and tossing away an invisible key.

“I’m sorry about him. He was raised in a different time.” You turn back to find Steve giving you a shy smile. “And what he said, I never—”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it, Steve.” Your eyes move to the hall again.

“Oh, and this is…” Steve finally realizes Bucky is no longer with them. “Well, if you saw him, that was Bucky. I promise he is the sweetest person you will ever meet. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Not even his own face.” Steve shoots Sam a look. “You know what I'm talking about. That staring thing he does. Where it looks like he wants to kill you.” He turns to the others in the room as he searches for backup, quickly finding it as Nat shrugs and nods back. Steve gives them both a look of disapproval.

"Alright, that's enough. You're going to kill Grandpa.” Tony jokes as he pushes through the group to meet Scott and his tray of milkshakes. “The burgers?”

“Almost done, Mr. Stark. Thanks again for inviting me.” Scott sets the tray on the coffee table and rushes back to the kitchen, wiping his hands on his frilly apron.

"Was that Ant-Man?" You ask in confusion.

"Don't worry, he's getting paid." Tony looks over at Banner and shakes his head.

"Dad?!"

"The point is, he is enjoying himself, and he offered."

After the brief intros, Sam and Steve excused themselves to unload the jet, write their mission reports and freshen up before dinner. When they returned, Bucky was still nowhere to be seen. “Don’t take it personally. He gets in these grumpy old man moods after missions. You’ll meet him soon.” Nat settles in next to you before Steve has a chance.

“I’m not –”

“You were obviously keeping an eye out for Barnes. It's totally fine. You should know he and Sam are in your wing.” You turn quickly, brows furrowed. “It used to be Steve, Clint and myself and one empty room. Well, not empty. It was decorated and off limits, and now we know why.”

“Where did you go?”

“Clint’s not here as often as he used to be, so when Sam joined, he moved to one of the loft spaces on the upper floors. Then we found Barnes, and I gave up my space when he moved in, thought it would be an easier transition after everything.”

You stayed up as long as you could with everyone, but you were pretty tired after a long day of driving, and the anxiety of just being back in the city was exhausting. You slipped out of the room as everyone watched their second movie of the night after dinner and wandered the halls.

As you approached your room, a terrifying sound had you spinning fast and your most traumatic memories flooding back. Memories you had repressed. It was an all too familiar scream. One filled with anguish and fear. You stood frozen against the wall next to your room, staring wide-eyed at the door across from yours. The screams echoed in your memory as they faded in reality and turned into soft whimpers. You felt your trembling legs step forward before you could stop yourself. You took a deep breath and leaned gently against the door, listening.

You heard shuffling and then footsteps, pacing back and forth and suddenly growing louder as they came closer. You scrambled back and tried to flee into the safety of your room, but your back hit the wall again, and you stared up at Bucky as he stepped into the hallway. The much smaller than you remembered a second ago, hallway. “Sorry."

"I didn’t mean to scare you.” His eyes avoid yours as he escapes to the common area down the hall with his head hanging low. You hear the kitchen sink turn on and water filling a glass. Your heart rate finally returns to normal, as you let out the breath you had been holding. You scold yourself and turn to your room, dragging yourself to bed.

The following weeks went on with Bucky avoiding you while you continued to get to know the team. Your sleep schedule was thrown off completely, waking each night to Bucky's screams, mind racing with your own traumas while wanting so desperately to reach out and comfort him. You never did, of course, instead, you kept your distance and gave him his space. When you woke in the middle of the night, you turned to your dreamcatchers.

Meanwhile, for the ex-assassin, most nights were filled with cold showers and sitting alone in the dark with his thoughts, shivering; like he was punishing himself. Other nights, he would find himself in the training room, lifting weights and doing pull-ups until his muscles screamed. And some nights, Steve would keep him company and remind him there was no way he would have done any of the things Hydra made him do without being tortured and lied to. It wasn’t really what he wanted to hear or could even believe, no matter how many times anyone told him. Those nights usually ended with an early morning run.

He still remembers his years with Hydra vividly, the terrified cries and screams, titanium wrapped tightly around innocent throats, lifeless eyes, blood, so much blood, fire, gunshots, explosions. He was hyperventilating when you walked into the common area. Having a full-on panic attack as he stared at his hands, shaking, and mumbling, “It was still me. It was still me. It was still me.”

“Bucky?” You approach him slowly, unsure if you were being cautious for his sake or yours. You clear your throat, ”James?”

He freezes slightly, eyes watching from the corner, trained on your feet as you round the couch. He presses his back further into the sofa behind him, hands gripping the floor beneath him for purchase.

You pause at the corner, looking down at the broken man on the floor. “I am James Buchanan Barnes. Sergeant with the 107th, 32557038. I am James Buchanan Barnes.” You slowly kneel next to him. His rambling fades lower. “3255…” His eyes dart to you and back at the floor. “70…” You scoot a little closer. “38.” He wills himself to look at you. “I’m sorry,” his whisper comes out shaky, eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry.” You shake your head and pull him into a tight hug. He clutches onto your shirt and cries into your chest. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Shhh, it’s okay.” You rub his back.

“They made me take you.”

You brush your fingers through his hair. “I know.”

He pulls away to look you in the eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You wipe his tears. “I forgive you.” He breaks again, this time though, it is relief that fills his eyes before he buries it back into your shoulder and holds onto you for dear life. He cries himself to sleep, and you continue to hold on, leaning your cheek on the top of his head.

Sam and Steve enter the kitchen in need of water, Sam panting as he downs his glass. Steve smiles at his friend as he leisurely sips his own. Steve opens his mouth to poke fun at Sam’s endurance when a deep sleep-filled breath grabs their attention. “I got him, I’m sure you need a moment to catch your breath,” Sam says sarcastically and sets his glass in the sink before crossing to the living area.

Steve lets out a soft chuckle. “I could use a shower,” he shrugs.

“Steve.” Sam stares down at the two of you still wrapped in each other’s arms, though you are now snuggled into Bucky's chest as he leans into the corner of the sectional, protectively holding onto you. “Sorry, man,” Sam apologizes to Steve as he joins him.

"It's like our childhood all over again."

"Maybe there's a reasonable explanation for this."

"Either way, Tony's not going to like it," Steve says with a shake of his head.

"Not going to like what?" It comes out in a raspy whisper as you stretch and look back at the men over your shoulder. They stand in shock, unsure how to proceed. You look around, realizing where you are and then look at the man beneath you. "Oh, right." You quickly get up, "Let's just not tell Tony." You push past both men as you make a mad dash for your room, hiding your face as it burns with embarrassment.

Bucky startles awake with the slam of your door. He lets out an exasperated sigh as he climbs to his feet, “I’m not going for a run.”

“Neither are we.” They keep a close eye on him as he crosses to the kitchen.

“You know I could have killed you, standing over a guy as he sleeps, lucky I wasn't armed," he mumbles. "What’s wrong with you?” He grumbles as he grabs himself a protein bar from the cupboard.

“I have the same question for you. Your best friend pines over a girl for years, and we find you wrapped up in an embrace, sleeping with the woman of his dreams out in the open.” 

“Seriously?” Steve stares at Sam like he revealed his deepest secret.

“It’s not like she’s in the room, man.”

“We’re not sleeping together, and it wasn’t a romantic embrace or any other kind of embrace. We were... She--" He lets out a frustrated groan. "Never mind, you wouldn’t understand.” Bucky exits the room before they can say anything more.

Sam turns to Steve, still staring at him. “What?! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Maybe we read into it.” 

The following night Steve woke with Bucky, and instead of sitting with him in the living room, he suggested they hit the gym.

You turned to your dream catchers, the newest wrapped in black suede, weaved with black sinew and gold beads. It was time to add feathers, and you couldn’t decide if you should add navy blue and red or even gold to the bunch of black feathers you had already carefully selected.

“I can’t do this anymore. I need a shower.” Bucky turns to leave.

“Come on, Buck.”

“No, you want to talk, let's talk. Stop pretending this is anything more than that.” 

“Bucky, I’m just trying to help.”

"No, you're upset with what you saw yesterday and I know, I heard you and Sam talking, if Tony would have walked in, I wouldn't have woken up." He grabs a towel from the bench. “Maybe it would have been for the best. None of this changes anything.” He storms out and returns to his room, though just as he steps into the hallway, he is hit with a fond memory. One of hardly any he has of his time with Hydra, he leans into the memory, drawn closer to your soft, melodic humming.

You lay on your back in the tall grass, watching a meteor shower. “You know you’ll get in trouble if they find out.”

“Their torture is better than hearing you go on and on for weeks on end about a bunch of stardust,” he grumbles from his perch behind you on the back of a quad. Successfully masking the fact he enjoyed your company and the show in the sky.

“That’s not true,” you whisper, “you forget they have me observe and—” You sit up, hugging yourself. “I know you have nightmares.”

He snaps a branch he had been absentmindedly fiddling with. “We should head back.”

You quickly turn around on your knees, “No, please. I don’t want to go back, not yet.” You spot the discarded branch and pick it up. “I can make you something. It will help with your nightmares.” Your chin quivers as you fight to hold back your tears.

He checks over his shoulder, sighing heavily when he turns back and gives you a quick nod.

You take the lantern next to Bucky and comb the beach for materials, Bucky sticking close to your side. You find plenty of feathers scattered along the pebbles and grass. You kneel on the ground in your tattered skirt, wincing as the varying rocks and debris dig into your skin. “What are you doing?” You look up, studying the man above you for a moment, and then you return to the pebbles, “I need one last thing. Do you see these bits of colour? It’s sea glass. I love these pretty blue ones, my favourite colour.” You hold up a small piece of glass the same colour as his eyes.

He catches the blush tinting your cheeks before you can hide your face and kneels beside you on one knee. “How many do you need?”

“I need one red one, but it has to be at least this big.” You hold up your thumb and forefinger about the size of a dime. “It’s the most important piece.” Bucky sweeps a hand through the pebbles and helps you search. “You keep looking, I’ll get this started.” You tuck the feathers into your sleeve as you pick at a loose thread on your skirt. In spite of your careful movements, the thread breaks, and yet you continue to collect more. When you finally gathered what you needed, there was a wide slit into your skirt. You knot the ends together, blow out the candle in the lantern, and dip the material into the wax.

“Are you done?” Bucky feigns annoyance as he relights the lantern and moves it closer to himself, a safe distance from you.

You let out a quiet giggle. “Two questions, do you trust me? And can I borrow a couple of things?” You cautiously reach for the tact knife on his thigh. Bucky eyes your hand and readjusts his position, pushing his thigh into your palm as he rakes his fingers through the pebbles again, seeking a suitable piece of sea glass. “I don’t understand why you need all of these straps,” you take hold of one of the offending straps on his tact suit and bring up the knife. You look at him for consent. His jaw clenches as he gives you the same quick nod he did when he agreed to stay longer. Watching you from the corner of his eye as you gently cut through the leather strap and unfasten the other end. “I need one more.” He gives you better access and you repeat your actions as he returns to his search. When you finish with his knife, you place it back in the sheath and gather all your materials.

You wander back to your spot in the grass, humming a tune and get to work. Picking up the discarded branches, you braid them, form a circle, and tie the ends together with the waxed thread. You wrap the branches with the leather straps and begin to weave a web within the circle of wrapped branches with the waxed thread already attached. Bucky makes his way back to you, keeping quiet so as not to disturb you. “Did you find it?” He holds out a perfect piece of sea glass, larger than a dime, maybe even a nickel. Your smile fills him with warmth, and he struggles to hide the twitch of his lip. You'll never know he found plenty of red bits that he deemed unsuitable. Whatever piece he found needed to be perfect, like you in his eyes.

Clearing his throat, he stands and returns to his perch on the back of the quad, taking out his tact knife to pass the time. You wrap the sea glass into the final weaves, knotting the end in the web and securing the sea glass a little more until you run out of thread. You let out a huff as you hold out the dream catcher. “It’s not the greatest, but, it should do.”

Bucky takes the dream catcher, admiring the finished product. “What do I do with it?”

“Smuggle it back in and hang it by your bed.”

“They won’t let me keep it.”

“Hide it under your pillow?” You shrug.

 “What about here?” He opens his jacket and tucks the dreamcatcher close to his heart.

“Well, I guess the straps are good for something.” You smirk.

“You can come inside if you like.” You heard him, thought he would return to his room, but his footsteps slowed and altogether stopped between your rooms.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You’re not.”

“Did you make all these?” You nod. “Gorgeous.” His fingers brush the feathers attached to one of the dream catchers. “Softer than mine.”

“You remember it?”

“It gave me hope,” he moved to your bed and sat down. “When I helped you escape, left you at that facility,” he swallows a lump in his throat. “They stripped me down to wipe me, found it in my gear. They took it and burned it in front of me.” His eyes filled with tears. “I used to look at it every night. Hid it under my pillow, like you said. Carried it with me everywhere.”

“Did it help?”

He nods. "It reminded me of you. A bright light in all that darkness.”

You turn back to your desk, pick up the dream catcher you were working on, and join Bucky on the end of your bed. ”I didn’t think you made it out of there with the other.” You hand him the new dream catcher, inspired by his new arm, the black and navy-blue feathers hung with gold sinew and red beads to tie in his new tact suit. “And you can actually hang this one without fear of anyone confiscating it.”

The tears fall freely as he accepts the gift. He tries to give you a smile, sniffles and wipes away the tears with the back of his hand. “Thank you.”

You pull him in for a hug. “I can make you a small one for your keys that you can carry everywhere.”

“I won’t need it, I’ve got you.”

“Do you now?”

“I’ve also got this.” He removes a small object from his pocket, the sea glass he found. He takes your hand and places it inside. “It’s not blue.”

“This one is more special. You found it.”

"For you."

You turn the glass over in your hand. "Did you know that penguins search for the perfect pebble to gift to their love?" You turn to kiss him softly, you meant to aim for his cheek, and he looked up last minute. When you pull away, he follows and deepens the kiss.

Steve lifts his hand to knock on your door, pausing when a soft moan escapes your lips. “James.” His heart breaks as he tears himself away from your door. I guess his best friend is willing to risk it all for you, and this moment is what solidifies his choice to go back in time.

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #captain america #Bucky Barnes #sergeant barnes #the winter soldier #y/n stark #tony stark #tony starks daughter #bucky barnes x stark!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #indigenous creators #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fic

[theres-a-body-here]

The Creep (killer concept)

Can be stand alone or apply to the Creep!Reader

Appearance: Casual clothing. Werewolf mask

Killer Weapon: Short spiked whip (multiple tails)

Killer Power, Final documentary: The Creep starts the trial with 5 cameras. The Creep also has a camcorder they always hold in their hand. These cameras can be placed on walls or on tripods throughout the trial grounds.

Survivors who are in viewing range of the cameras are inflicted with the oblivious status effect. If survivors are within viewing range for more than 15 seconds, one random perk will become disabled until they leave the viewing range.

Survivors can break the cameras, but will activate killer instinct for 5 seconds. Breaking a camera takes 20 seconds.

Once cameras are broken, the Creep will not receive new ones. However, for each camera broken, the Creep's recording requirement time is reduced by 2 seconds.

Special Ability, Scum Film: The Creep can use their personal camcorder to record survivors themselves.

After recording a healthy survivor for 30 seconds, their perks are revealed to the Creep.

The Creep can also record hooked survivors to fill the "defilement meter". The Creep can only record 50% for each hook state and takes 25 seconds to fill half the meter. Once the "defilement meter" is filled on the survivor, one random perk will become disabled for the remainder of the trial. The Creep can only disable one perk per survivor.

The Creep comes with 3 new perks:

Scourge hook: Death Grips

A phenomena you've seen first hand. The fear of death can cause one to lash out in order to survive.

At the start of the Trial, 4 random Hooks are changed into Scourge Hooks.

Any healthy survivor who unhooks another from these Hooks become injured. If already injured, they become broken for 20 seconds.

"Remeber that pain the next time you wanna play hero"- The Creep

Oh! You Pretty Thing

You don't like to share your toys and will bite the hand of anyone who dares touch your things.

You become obsessed with one survivor. Whenever a survivor heals your obsession from the dying state, all survivors will become exposed until one is downed.

This perk has a cooldown of 70 seconds

"That's mine, not yours. Mine Mine Mine. I even marked them, see?"- The Creep

The Faces of Death

The weak minded are often horrified by the death process.

Survivors within 5 meters of a dying survivor suffer from the exhausted and oblivious status effects.

"That sound? Oh, that's the death rattle. You'll be making it soon, don't worry"- The Creep

#killer concept #creep!reader #dead by daylight #dbd #killer!reader #creep

[swan-of-sunrise]

A Spellbinding Wedding (Spellbinding-Verse Interlude)

Summary: (Y/N) and Loki’s big day has finally arrived, but will mischief and superhero shenanigans succeed in derailing the happiest day of their lives?

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 10.9k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Almost 11k words of pure, tooth-rotting fluff lol

A/N: We’ve finally arrived at the wedding of Loki and the Cosmic Sorceress! If you haven't already, I recommend checking out the Spellbinding Playlist; I added a bunch of wedding/romantic songs I imagine they'd choose for their special day and they're all great, so go ahead and give it a listen!Thank you all so much for reading and for waiting like six months for this thing lol, and I hope that you enjoy!

A Spellbinding Wedding October 8th, 2016 Stark Mansion New York City, New York (Previous One-Shot)

“So, (Y/L/N), in just a few short hours you’re gonna be officially – pause for dramatic effect – off the market! Can you tell us what exactly’s going through the beautiful bride’s head right now?”

(Y/N) briefly paused her mascara application and pretended to ponder Clint’s overly-exaggerated question. “Whether or not it would be rude of me to drop that camcorder through a portal to Muspelheim and lock you in the basement until after the ceremony.”

The archer snickered before jumping up to sit on the dresser behind her and turning the camcorder around to directly address the camera. “As you can see, your mom gets a little cranky when she has to wake up early. Not sure if that’ll go away in the future or just get worse, so…either way, good luck with that, kiddos!”

“When you volunteered to film the ceremony and parts of the reception for us, I really should’ve questioned it more.” (Y/N) resumed applying her mascara while fighting back a smile. “At least any future children of ours will watch this, see just how ridiculous their Uncle Clint is and know that we weren’t exaggerating. Oh! Speaking of children, are Peter’s friends here yet? Tony was supposed to send Happy into Queens to pick them up an hour ago, but I haven’t heard anything about them since.”

“Yeah, they’re all hanging out in the old lab downstairs and Tony’s helping ‘em prep their sound equipment as we speak; you and Loki do know that there’s literally thousands of professional DJ’s living in New York you could’ve hired to run your wedding reception that aren’t sixteen and can actually drive themselves to their venues, right?”

“Says the friend of ours who practically begged to be the videographer even though he’s a professional archer by trade…” She mumbled under her breath, twisting the mascara wand back into its tube just as someone knocked on her suite’s door. “Come in!”

The door opened and Natasha popped her head into the room, her long red hair still wrapped in curlers, a clipboard in her hands and a comm link secured in her ear. The spy was taking her many duties as Matron of Honor very seriously, treating the day’s celebration as if it were a highly-classified mission and not a mid-sized wedding located at Tony’s family mansion; each of their teammates had been assigned specific duties and responsibilities and throughout the morning, Natasha regularly checked in with them to ensure that their tasks were going smoothly, which explained why she was shooting Clint the trademark glare she normally reserved for Hydra agents and invading aliens. “Last I checked, Barton, you’re supposed to be overseeing the florists in the garden and not raising the bride’s blood pressure right before the wedding.”

Clint jumped down from the dresser and raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, no need to go all Black Widow on me, Tasha.” He crossed the room and pressed a chaste kiss onto (Y/N)’s cheek before winking at her through the vanity’s mirror. “I’ll see you at the altar, (Y/L/N)!”

Natasha gave the archer one final glare as he hurried out of the suite while whistling ‘Chapel of Love’ and shook her head when the door closed behind him. “I swear, I’m gonna have to start using my Widow Bites on these people if they don’t start being more helpful…” The spy turned her attention to (Y/N) and her concentrated frown morphed into a smile. “Aw (Y/N), you look stunning and you haven’t even put on your dress yet! I’m serious, it’s like you’re glowing or-” She cut herself off and held a hand up to her ear to listen to a voice in her comm. “Wait a sec, Bruce says that the caterers just arrived. Did you want me to get you anything before I check in on them?”

“Is it too early in the day for a glass of champagne?”

“Not if there’s a splash of orange juice in it,” Natasha answered with a mischievous grin. “I’ll be back before you know it!”

The door closed behind the spy and for the first time that morning, the room fell silent. (Y/N) sat back in her seat and let out a sigh of relief; she loved her friends and teammates dearly, of course, but all she wanted to do was prepare for the wedding in peace and with as little stress as possible. The wedding was slightly larger than they’d originally anticipated, with over a hundred guests from Midgard, Asgard and Alfheim all gathered together at one of Tony Stark’s family mansions in the heart of New York City, and with the ink still drying on the three realms’ fledgling peace treaties, handling the guests and ensuring that they remain peaceful would be a difficult task to carry out on a day already filled to the brim with difficult tasks. So far, her friends were doing an excellent job with ensuring that everything was running smoothly but after living the life of a superhero for over a year, she knew just how quickly a situation could shift from calm to catastrophic.

“I wonder of Loki’s feeling just as anxious about all this as I am,” (Y/N) murmured to herself, giving the photograph of her soon-to-be husband she’d tucked into the edge of her vanity’s mirror a smile before setting her sights on her un-styled hair, hoping that the intricate task would serve to distract her from the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

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

“Brother, what exactly is this gloopy green substance?”

“It’s an avocado and green tea mud mask.”

“…And why have we applied it to our faces?”

“It removes impurities from the skin while unclogging pores and absorbing excess oil.” Before Thor had a chance to ask another question, Loki brusquely continued. “Yes, it’s meant to relax you and no, you cannot eat it.”

Instead of becoming annoyed by Loki’s shortness, his brother chuckled. “In that case, these mud masks must be defective because you’re anything but relaxed, brother.” With a defeated sigh, Loki removed the cucumber slices resting on his eyelids and sat up, tossing the slices into the nearby trashcan and making his way into the suite’s bathroom to wash the half-dried mud mask off; he was halfway done when Thor entered and leaned against the door-frame, a look of concern visible even beneath his own thick mud mask. “Loki, are you all right? You haven’t been yourself all morning, and it’s beginning to worry me. You’re not having second thoughts about the wedding, are you?”

“No! No, of course not,” Loki emphatically shook his head. “I’ve been waiting for this day for quite a long time, believe me, but I…well, it’s an awfully significant life change, isn’t it? I know that what I’m feeling is only a natural reaction to such a change, of course, but a part of me can’t help but wonder if I’m even deserving of this life I’m about to embark on with (Y/N).”

His brother nodded in understanding. “I believe that Wilson refers to them as intrusive thoughts; unwelcome, involuntary thoughts with no basis in truth or fact that can manifest as a result of several forms of trauma.” When Loki raised his brows in surprise, Thor sighed and rolled his eyes in mild exasperation. “Believe it or not, brother, I do listen to what others say when they’re around me. The important point to be made is that they’re wrong; as your designated Best Man, it’s my duty to ease these irrational worries of yours and I believe that I have just the thing!”

Thor disappeared into the bedroom and quickly returned with an ornate bottle and two glasses, and Loki’s jaw nearly dropped at the sight of the familiar flagon. “That’s one of Asgard’s last remaining bottles of the great Hoder’s spiced mead. It’s to be drunk on the most special of occasions and only with the Allfather’s express permission…”

“I took a page out of your book and simply borrowed a bottle on my way out of the palace.” The older man grinned proudly at his uncharacteristic act of subterfuge and Loki couldn’t help but chuckle. “The Allfather might not agree, but my brother’s wedding and all the happiness it will surely bring him is a special occasion.”

As Loki’s throat burned and he fought back the sudden tears brought on by his brother’s support, he watched as Thor poured the amber-colored liquid out into the two glasses and pressed one into his hand, the corner of his mouth curving upwards while he raised the glass. “Well then, to happiness.”

“To happiness,” Thor echoed, and the two brothers clinked their glasses together before downing the spiced mead in one go. “Another!”

There was a gentle knock on the suite’s door and Frigga’s voice called out, “Loki? Thor?”

“Oh, Hel!”

Both men scrambled to hide the evidence of their treasonous transgression, shoving the spiced mead and glasses unceremoniously under the sink and rushing out of the bathroom to open the door for their mother; the Queen of Asgard was dressed spectacularly in a pale turquoise dress and matching wide-brimmed hat, looking just as elegant in Midgardian clothing as she always did on Asgard. Frigga was beaming as she stepped into the suite and reached up to hold Loki’s face between her hands. “Oh, I can hardly believe that my darling little one is getting married today, and to such a wonderful young woman as well! How are you feeling, Loki? Have you eaten anything at all?”

“I’m fine, Mother, just a little anxious.” Loki matched her infectious smile with one of his own. “After all, it’s not every day that three realms of the cosmos come together to celebrate a wedding.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about, because your brother and your friends are doing such an excellent job at keeping everything running smoothly.” Frigga gave them both a knowing look. “Perhaps another glass of Hoder’s spiced mead will soothe your nerves? Now, be a dear and make mine a double, please.”

Loki and Thor exchanged a wide-eyed look of surprise as their mother crossed the suite and began brushing the stray pieces of lint off their suit jackets hanging near the window, humming a cheerful tune to herself as she did.

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

Pulling back to admire her handiwork, (Y/N) smiled brightly and twirled Cassie’s chair around to face her vanity’s mirror. “There, all finished! What do you think, Cassie?”

Their flower girl-slash-ring bearer squealed in joy and turned to her with the widest smile on her glittering face. “It’s so pretty! I love it!” She threw her arms around her middle and tightly hugged her. “Do I look like a fairy from Alf…Alf…?”

“Alfheim? I’m not sure, actually, I’ve never seen a fairy there before.” Shrugging, (Y/N) glanced over at Elora, who was preoccupied with unzipping the large garment bag containing her wedding dress. “Elora has, though! Haven’t you, Elora?”

The General of the Alfheimian Army looked up from her task with a small shudder. “Unfortunately. The little beasts possess needle-sharp teeth and use their woodland magic to mask their presence right before viciously attacking any who dare trespass into their domain.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in alarm but before she could chastise the Alfheimian for her bluntness, Cassie clapped her hands together and let out a delighted laugh. “That is so cool!”

A knock on her suite’s door drew (Y/N) away from Elora and Cassie’s animated discussion of the various magical beasts that lived on Alfheim, and she opened the door to reveal Sam and Bucky; both men were already dressed in their suits, minus their floral boutonnieres, but her calm demeanor vanished when she caught sight of the panicked expressions they were desperately trying to mask. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong, doll-”

“Yeah, everything’s goin’ according to plan, (Y/L/N), promise-”

“Nat had us come up here to…um…”

“To see if you needed any help with…anything.”

She arched an unimpressed brow that almost instantly silenced both men. “Do I really have to ask you two again?”

“…Scott lost the wedding rings!” (Y/N)’s jaw dropped and Bucky let out an indignant noise as Sam raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, Buck, but she’s got the same death glare my mom used to give me! Yeah, Scott put the rings down and now he can’t find them anywhere, and he can’t even use the ants to help ‘cause he didn’t bring his suit along.”

The super soldier hastily added, “Nat’s trying her best to jog his memory, but…well, you know Nat. I think she might end up making the poor guy faint before finding out where he might’ve lost the rings.”

“Okay, okay…” Rubbing her temples in an attempt to quell the rapidly-growing headache, (Y/N) took a steadying breath and forced herself to remain calm as she began formulating a plan. “All right, my hair and makeup’s already done, so let me find some slippers and we’ll go find Nat and Scott. I might be able to use my Alf Seidr to try and find them-” Both Sam and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. “-But not a word of this to Loki, okay? The last thing he needs today is any added stress…”

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

Arching a curious brow, Loki examined the items laid out on the coffee table before glancing up at his teammates. “This is a Midgardian tradition? It seems a little silly that these random objects can determine the outcome of a marriage.”

“Yeah, it’s a good luck thing here on Earth, Lokes, like that old Saints jersey Sam wears during every football season.” Clint held up the camcorder and pointed the lens at Loki as he continued. “Your dad’s a pretty smart guy, kiddos, but don’t let that fool you; he once thought your mom was dying when she was only having a little brain freeze. Remember, Lokes?”

“Children, if you’ve ever wondered why your mother once attempted to hit your dear Uncle Clint over the head with a coffee-table book, then now you know,” Loki snickered as the archer flushed pink and rolled his eyes.

A reluctant smile played on Steve’s lips while he finished fastening his cuff-links across the suite. “I hate to say it, but Barton’s right about it being good luck here. ‘Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.’ Your mother gifted you a set of cloak clasps for today so that’s your ‘something old,’ your tuxedo counts as your ‘something new,’ Tony’s lending you one of his nicer Rolex watches for your ‘something borrowed,’ and your ‘something blue’ are the navy blue suspenders you’re wearing.”

Loki hummed in interest. “I suppose that a little extra luck wouldn’t go amiss…”

Just as he slipped the borrowed Rolex onto his wrist, a visibly panicked Thor burst into the suite and made a bee-line to Steve. “Captain Rogers, there’s an urgent matter that I must speak to you about!”

“If it’s that Tony wrote a borderline explicit speech to read at the reception, then we all know and Nat already took care of-”

“No, no, it’s not that, but we really should discuss this matter out in the hall-”

“What is it, Thor?” Loki asked, tilting his head in confusion as he took in his brother’s unusually pale face and arching a disapproving brow when he proceeded to badly explain away his concern. “Brother, surely you haven’t forgotten that I’m the God of Lies? Whatever it is, I’m sure that we’ll be able to handle it before the ceremony begins.”

Thor swallowed and anxiously bit his lip before blurting out, “A wizard is currently battling a space worm out on the lawn.”

“What?!” Loki, Steve and Clint all exclaimed in unison.

“It just appeared out of nowhere and started wreaking havoc across the grounds, but then a wizard stepped out of a portal and started fighting it! Stark and Rhodes are already on their way to help but it seems that the beast is indestructible!”

With his jaw clenched tight in mounting agitation, Loki stood from his seat and summoned his emerald-green magic. “Not if I have anything to say about it.” A shimmer of light enveloped his body and in the blink of an eye, his wedding attire morphed into his Asgardian battle armor and daggers appeared in his grasp. “The beast and this so-called wizard will soon regret the very moment they dared to step foot on this property.”

Steve shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and reached for the red, white and blue shield propped up beside one of the suite’s armchair. “Barton, keep the caterers and florists away from the lawn, and make sure the guests stay inside and away from the windows.”

“On it.”

“And not a word of this to (Y/N), all right?” All three men nodded in agreement and Loki’s grip tightened around the hilts of his daggers. “The last thing she needs today is any added stress…”

As the trio of men hurried outside, a part of Loki wondered if he’d been tricked into believing that a cosmic monster was in the process of battling a sorcerer and that it was all some sort of elaborate prank concocted by his brother and friends to ease his pre-wedding jitters. However, that spark of hope was quickly extinguished when Steve threw the back door open and was forced to jump back to avoid being struck by Rhodes’ flailing body falling from the sky.

“Oh, I’m definitely gonna feel that one for a couple of days,” Rhodes groaned in pain and allowed Steve to hoist his armor-clad body to his feet. “Either of you guys wanna tell me what an ugly-ass space worm is doing here in New York? ‘Cause it’s definitely not here to wish the bride and groom its best!”

The familiar sound of repulsor blasts intermingled with the booming roars caused all four men to turn and watch as Tony darted around the tentacles of an enormous pink creature and a dark-haired man wearing a burgundy cape conjured orange-hued magic to counter its vicious attacks. “Earth has second-rate sorcerers now, how delightful…” Loki rolled his eyes and turned to the others. “It’s an Abilisk, a cosmic creature that feeds off significantly-sized energy sources, and it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if that cheap magician down there summoned it here out of pure incompetency.”

“Let’s deal with the Abilisk first, brother, and then we’ll confront the wizard later!” With a burst of lightning, Thor flew off towards the enraged creature and attempted to slam Mjolnir against its skull, but he was quickly swatted aside by one of its flailing tentacles.

Loki and Steve exchanged a look with Rhodes before joining the battle; the Air Force colonel attempted to shoot it with one of his suit’s many guns but was unsuccessful due to the creature’s impenetrable hide and no matter how twisted its own tentacles became due to the super soldier’s impressive athleticism, the beast remained standing and overwhelmingly angry. After throwing a handful of emerald-green magic at a tentacle to stop it from slamming into Steve’s back, Loki looked over to see the bearded sorcerer performing a spell nearby. “Care to introduce yourself and explain why you’ve brought an Abilisk to my wedding?” He yelled over the creature’s deafening roars.

“My name’s Doctor Stephen Strange, I’m a Master of the Mystic Arts, the guardian of the New York Sanctum in Greenwich Village and I most certainly did not summon an Abilisk here!” The sorcerer shouted back as he threw two semi-circular protective shields at the Abilisk’s face, where they exploded on impact and disoriented the enraged creature further. “Someone here at this mansion opened an inter-dimensional portal and let this creature come through, and as soon I arrived to send it back, my sling-ring was stolen from me by an unchecked summoning spell!”

“Sling-ring?”

“Yes, it’s what allows me to channel the magic needed to open inter-dimensional portals between any two points within the universe and without it, I can’t send the Abilisk back to where it came from!”

Loki was quickly filled with a sneaking suspicion about the whereabouts of the sorcerer’s sling-ring, but he prayed to the Norns that he was wrong as he called out to the others, “Does anyone here have access to Romanoff’s comm link? I think she may be able to shed some much-needed light on the situation!”

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

The air around (Y/N) crackled and hummed with magical energy as she used her Alf Seidr to sense her surroundings and a familiar tugging sensation in her stomach preceded a strange weight in her outstretched left hand. She opened her eyes and her excitement instantly turned to annoyance when she was met with the sight of yet another unfamiliar ring; the one resting on her open palm looked different from the rest, almost reminding her of a pair of brass knuckles but with strange etchings across its bronzed surface. “Well, this definitely isn’t what I’m seeking…” She tossed the object into the basket of other rings she’d inadvertently summoned while searching for the lost wedding rings and sighed. “Do any of you have any bright ideas?”

Scott, Natasha, Sam and Bucky all shook their heads from their spots across the laboratory, and the ex-convict was the first to speak. “I-I’m really, really sorry about this, (Y/N), I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Scott, I know you didn’t mean to lose the rings…” (Y/N) rubbed her temple in an effort to quell her raging stress-induced headache as she considered what to do next. “I’ll just have to try the spell again, then maybe it will-”

“Tony?” They all looked over to see a frowning Natasha listening to her comm link. “Okay, slow down, I can’t hear what you’re…wait, what wizard ring? Yeah, Scott lost the rings and (Y/N)’s been using her magic to try and find ‘em, but…” The spy’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped at whatever the billionaire was saying through the comm. “Oh shit.”

(Y/N) frowned. “What is it, Nat?”

Before Natasha could answer, the wall nearest to (Y/N) suddenly exploded and she had just enough time to summon a protective bubble of magic to encase them as chunks of stone and debris began raining down. The dust was beginning to settle when she flicked her wrists to remove the shield, her brows rising in surprise as she recognized her future brother-in-law extricating himself from the rubble. Thor’s blue eyes widened comically when he spotted her standing before him and he swallowed nervously before giving her a small wave. “H-Hello, Lady (Y/N). Shouldn’t you be off preparing for the ceremony?”

“What’s going on, Thor?”

“Nothing, nothing, just an intense arm-wrestling match with your delightful Alfheimian friends; for one so small, Myriani has quite the arm!”

“Thor.”

Natasha stepped forward and gestured towards the comm link in her ear. “According to Tony, there’s a giant space worm wreaking havoc on the lawn that you unintentionally summoned here with your Alf Seidr, and the only person who can get rid of it is a wizard-doctor who lives in Greenwich Village but you accidentally stole his magic ring.”

“God, just put me back in the damn ice…” Bucky groaned as he dropped his head into his vibranium hand.

Sam reached into the basket of rings and withdrew the odd-looking shape made of engraved brass. “I’m no expert on wizards, (Y/L/N), but this kinda looks like it could be magical to me.”

(Y/N) took the ring from Sam and with a wave of her hand, she transformed her silk robe and slippers into her Cosmic Sorceress uniform and marched through the hole in the laboratory wall. There was indeed a towering pink-skinned creature flailing its many tentacles as her friends and teammates fought their hardest against it; Tony and Rhodey were firing their suit’s repulsors and dodging its tentacles in the air while Steve, Loki and an odd-looking man wearing a red cloak tried all they could to draw the creature’s attention away from the mansion. Ignoring the guilt beginning to eat away at her, (Y/N) strode across the lawn and called out over the deafening roars, “Doctor, catch!”

The wizard-doctor looked over and raised his hand just in time to catch his ring, quickly slipping it into his fingers and rotating his hands in a circular motion to create a sparking orange portal directly beneath the creature; it released a final roar as it dropped down into the portal and disappeared, leaving the grounds of Stark Mansion silent. The stranger closed the portal he’d opened and breathed a sigh of relief before setting his sights on an embarrassed (Y/N). “Your royal highness, would you care to explain what’s going on and why you took my sling ring?”

(Y/N) fidgeted with her finger-less gloves and attempted to smile, but it appeared as more of a grimace. “First of all, I’m very sorry for all the trouble this has caused you, Doctor…”

“Strange. Doctor Stephen Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts and the guardian of the New York Sanctum.” They shook hands and she silently took note of the unique magical energy radiating from him. “You’re (Y/N) (Y/L/N), former trainee librarian turned Cosmic Sorceress, the Crown Princess of Alfheim, daughter of the Alfheimian Layeia Tilasdottir and the very-human David (Y/L/N), descendant of the esteemed Lady Astrid, designated representative between the Light Elves and the Nine Realms of the cosmos, and the Defender of the Realm of Alfheim.”

Taking a step back, (Y/N) arched a questioning brow and fought the sudden urge to summon her magic or even her sword. “For someone I’ve never met, you certainly know an awful lot about me.”

Doctor Strange shrugged. “I make it my business to keep an eye on beings that pose the largest threats to this world and I have to say, you’re quite high on my list.”

“Well, like I was saying, Doctor, all of this has a very simple if not embarrassing explanation-”

“(Y/N)!” They both turned to see Loki and their friends hurrying towards them; their tuxedos were covered in grass stains and an odd multicolored slime, and her fiancé’s emerald-green eyes were filled with worry as he gently held her shoulders and leaned down to meet her gaze. “Darling, are you all right? What happened?”

As the rest of their friends and even some of their guests began making their way across the lawn, (Y/N)’s embarrassment grew and she brought a hand up to partially hide her face. “Scott misplaced the rings and I thought I could use my magic to find them, but my anxiety must’ve led to me opening a portal and then the strength of my spell accidentally took Doctor Strange’s sling ring, and…well, you know the rest. I still have no idea why I wasn’t able to summon our rings; it’s almost as if something was blocking my magic…” Loki paled at her words and it was (Y/N)’s turn to be concerned. “Loki?”

“This situation, um…it may not entirely be your fault, darling.” Her fiancé chuckled awkwardly and rubbed his neck as he glanced over at where Scott, his girlfriend Hope Van Dyne and Cassie were all standing near Elora. “You see, I assumed that Lang might misplace the rings so before I started getting ready, I placed an enchantment on them and as an added precaution, I instructed Barton to give Lang an empty ring box and give the real ones to-”

“Hey, guys! Cassie had the rings the whole time!" Scott shouted and gave a giggling Cassie a celebratory fist-bump. “Either my little peanut’s becoming a better thief than her old man, or someone didn’t trust me with ‘em in the first place. Probably the second one, huh?”

With an incredulous laugh, (Y/N) allowed a chuckling Loki to pull her into his arms and shook her head in disbelief. “Does that mean we ruined our own wedding?”

“My dear, you both haven’t ruined a single thing,” Frigga reassured her as she walked up to them and gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Your friends and guests are still here, all of them safe and unharmed, and the sun is shining brightly in the sky. Why shouldn’t your wedding continue as planned?”

A stern-looking Doctor Strange raised a hand and answered, “Because Miss (Y/L/N) here nearly caused the destruction of New York with her unchecked magic and a mass hysteria the likes of which hasn’t been seen since his invasion. Such an act, even one as accidental as you claim this one to be, cannot go unexamined and unpunished.”

(Y/N) bit her lip while Loki rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to counter his words, but his mother’s hand on his arm silenced him as she turned to Doctor Strange with a brilliant smile. “It’s very nice to meet you, Doctor Stephen Strange of Midgard; I am Frigga, the Queen of Asgard and mother to Loki and Thor. My dear future daughter-in-law has recently obtained an extraordinary amount of Alf Seidr that she’s still training to control and seeing as today’s her long-awaited wedding day, it’s quite understandable that her focus was shaken.” Frigga sympathetically rubbed (Y/N)’s back and took a moment to adjust her uniform’s purple-hued tiara before returning her attention to the sorcerer. “Now, I’m sure that a highly-skilled Master of the Mystic Arts such as yourself would be honored to utilize the Time Stone hanging around your neck and repair the damage caused by the creature, so as to ease Lady (Y/N)’s frazzled nerves and prevent any other unfortunate accidents from occurring.”

Doctor Strange blinked in surprise. “Um…”

“For your valiant defense of this realm, Asgard recognizes you as one of its trusted allies and speaking as the mother of the groom, I would personally be honored if you joined us for today’s celebration of Loki and Lady (Y/N)’s nuptials.”

“That’s, um…thank you, Queen Frigga, for extending an invitation to me…I-I’d be honored to attend…” The sorcerer’s cheeks flushed pink and he tried his hardest to avoid making eye-contact with the beautiful goddess in front of him. “I’ll start on the repairs right away…”

While a flushed Doctor Strange started using the power of the Time Stone to reverse the damages to their friends’ tuxedos first, (Y/N) turned to look between Frigga and Loki as her stunned expression morphed into a grin. “You really did inherit your Silvertongue from your mother, didn’t you?”

“So it would seem,” Loki replied and leaned down to press a kiss onto his mother’s cheek. “Thank you for intervening on our behalf, Mother.”

Frigga’s blue eyes twinkled with some mischief of her own as she gave them a conspiratorial wink. “Of course, little one. I was raised by witches who taught me many invaluable lessons, among which was that diplomacy and deceit are two sides of the very same coin.”

After the Queen of Asgard went to supervise the sorcerer as he repaired the lawn and floral arrangements surrounding the white gazebo that they’d soon exchange their vows within, (Y/N) spotted Clint filming the aftermath of the battle and giggled. “This’ll be a fun memory to share with our future children: How Mom and Dad’s magical shenanigans nearly wrecked their own wedding.”

Loki laughed. “After listening to Stark read me an online article chronicling several common wedding day horrors, ours was relatively tame by comparison.” He gave her forehead a lingering kiss before meeting her gaze with a tender smile. “Are you ready to get married, my love?”

“More than ready, sweetheart.” (Y/N) slipped her hand into her fiancé’s and swung their arms as they made their way into the mansion to finish getting ready for their wedding ceremony.

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

An hour and over a dozen magical repairs later, Loki and Thor stood outside on the mansion’s veranda with Cassie Lang, keeping the flower girl-slash-ring bearer entertained and patiently waiting for (Y/N) and Natasha to finish their last-minute preparations so the ceremony could begin.

The guests were all seated and talking amongst themselves while they enjoyed the late afternoon sunlight breaking through the fluffy white clouds; the only people not seated in the rows of benches were General Elora – who would be officiating the ceremony, as it mainly drew from ancient Alfheimian customs – and Peter, MJ and Ned; the young woman graciously volunteered to play the guitar while they walked down the aisle, and her two best friends were keeping her company as she perched herself on a wooden stool beside the gazebo’s steps. Floral arrangements comprised of green and lavender Dahlias and branches of fern lined the aisle and hung gracefully off the ends of the sculpted wooden benches, while vines of green ivy and lilacs wrapped around the gazebo’s posts and railing. The interior of the gazebo was illuminated with dozens of twinkling fairy lights that were set to brighten as the sun started to set, and lanterns of battery-powered candles hung from each nearby bush and tree.

Embracing a mixture of Asgardian and Midgardian traditions, Loki was dressed in a tailored black tuxedo with an emerald-green cloak fastened to his jacket by the engraved golden clasps his mother gifted him, and he wore a floral crown of blooming laurels and leaves. On Asgard, one’s future spouse chose the flowers that best represented their intended and after much deliberation, (Y/N) picked the laurel for its many symbolic meanings; the laurel symbolized nobility, intelligence and an acknowledgement of the new phase he was entering by marrying her. Quite a flattering choice on her part, he thought with a reserved smile as he conjured another tiny burst of fireworks for Cassie’s amusement.

“Perhaps one day, young Cassie, my brother will show you how he can transform into any animal one could imagine,” Thor remarked to Cassie as he took a moment to readjust his green pocket-square.

The little girl’s eyes widened in amazement and she quickly turned to face Loki. “Can you turn into an ant?!”

Loki blinked in surprise as Thor stifled a chuckle behind his hand. “Um, well…now that you mention it, I haven’t actually tried.”

“Oh. I like ants. The ones that my daddy works with are really nice!”

Watching Cassie suddenly switch from talking about ants to twirling around in her soft green dress, a part of Loki hoped that his and (Y/N)’s future children shared the little girl’s quirky enthusiasm and unapologetic sense of wonder. The sound of the veranda’s glass door opening caused Loki to turn around and when he did, he was met with the jaw-dropping sight of his fiancée. (Y/N)’s off-white wedding dress – impeccably designed for her by Luke Jacobson – was relatively simplistic, with a fitted bust that cinched at the waist and flared out into a flowing skirt that reached the floor, but what elevated the entire look from simplistic to enchanting were its unique details; a lace overlay of hand-sewn floral designs was fastened onto the bust, branching out into fluttering sleeves that hung down to her biceps, and the only jewelry she wore besides her engagement ring was a delicate pair of pearl earrings she inherited from her late aunt. Her hair was arranged into one of her favorite styles and on the top of her head, she wore a floral crown comprised of white Camellia blooms; he’d picked them for her because they symbolized admiration, respect and everlasting love and devotion. A veil of lace-trimmed white chiffon was attached to the back of the floral crown, hanging gracefully down her back and barely brushing the floor. The finishing touch was the bouquet she was clutching in her hands; it was comprised of laurel, white Camellia blooms, lavender and lilac-colored roses and dusty green foliage.

“Darling…” Loki approached her almost reverently and stood before her with a dazed smile on his face. “I truly am the luckiest man in all the Nine Realms, to find myself marrying such an ethereal goddess as you.”

(Y/N) shyly ducked her head before reaching a hand up to straighten one of his cloak clasps. “You must be a mind-reader, then, because I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

His lips chastely caressed her knuckles as Natasha stepped onto the veranda with a small basket of multicolored flower petals and a small bouquet of her own; the Matron of Honor was dressed in a simple lilac-colored gown, with her long red curls pinned up in an elegant style by a single white Dahlia and glittering silver heels on her feet. “Save the kissing for later, lovebirds, we’ve got a wedding ceremony to begin.” Mindful of her gown, the spy bent down and held the basket out for Cassie to take. “Okay, Lang, just like we practiced.”

“I’m on it,” Cassie replied, toothily grinning and giving Natasha a thumbs-up before taking the basket from her and allowing the spy to quickly adjust (Y/N)’s veil.

“Are you two ready?” After Loki and (Y/N) nodded, Natasha held a hand up to her comm link and spoke lowly into it, “All right, kid, let’s do this thing.”

Across the way, MJ nodded and gestured for her friends to take their seats, spending a moment adjusting her guitar’s shoulder strap before beginning to softly play. The guests’ conversations started to dim down and with a nod of confirmation from the spy, Cassie walked across the lawn and started to slowly make her way down the aisle, scattering flower petals along the way while her father beamed with pride from his seat.

Thor leaned down to give (Y/N)’s forehead a chaste kiss and clapped a hand on Loki’s shoulder, his blue eyes sparkling with happiness as he allowed Natasha to loop her arm around his. “See you in a minute.”

Natasha winked at them and with that, the Best Man and the Matron of Honor began their walk down the aisle; when they ascended the gazebo’s steps and took their respective places, (Y/N) slipped her hand into Loki’s and he squeezed it tight as they crossed the lawn to stand at the end of the aisle. Once the guests all stood and turned to face them, Loki and (Y/N) exchanged a smile before starting down the aisle hand-in-hand; long before they knew it was Alfheimian tradition that the bride and groom walk themselves down the aisle on their wedding day, (Y/N) pointed out that since they’d both be entering into marriage with one another, it only made sense that they’d choose to walk down the aisle together.

While they slowly walked down the aisle as MJ played a gentle love ballad on her guitar, Loki looked out at their friends, teammates and colleagues standing amongst the guests to distract himself from the butterflies beginning to flutter around his stomach. Nick Fury, Maria Hill, Everett Ross and Doctor Helen Cho stood alongside everyone they invited from S.H.I.E.L.D., the director giving them both an approving nod as they passed by; Steven Grant – the quirky man they’d met while on vacation in Egypt and to whom (Y/N) was a devoted pen-pal – stood beside Layla El-Fouley, his alter Marc Spector’s stunning wife, and for the briefest moment, Loki could even see the skeletal figure of Khonshu lingering by one of the distant trees; their new and reluctant friend Doctor Stephen Strange, now dressed in a simple black tuxedo instead of his sorcerer’s robes, stood beside his fellow sorcerer Wong and attempted to not look as uncomfortable as he presumably felt amongst so many superheroes; Peter Parker and Ned Leeds were trying their hardest not to seem too excited to be sharing a row with Doctor Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis, and Loki could hear (Y/N) stifle a giggle when the eccentric woman winked and fired finger-guns at them; Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne’s attention was caught between watching Loki and (Y/N) make their way down the aisle and keeping an eye on Cassie standing on the gazebo beside Thor, while Bucky and Sam both smiled widely at them as they passed; Bruce stood beside his cousin Jennifer Walters, who was already flirtatiously eyeing an embarrassed Rhodey standing across the aisle, while Pepper elbowed a snickering Tony; Steve and Clint stood at one of the front rows, the super soldier beaming with happiness and the archer filming their procession with his camcorder.

At the front of Loki’s side of the aisle stood their Asgardian and Alfheimian friends and family. Fandral winked at him and Sif grinned widely as Volstagg toasted them with the chocolate bar he was snacking on and even the ever-stoic Hogun gave them an atypical smile. Queen Amirah of Alfheim stood beside her guards, Hagen and Myriani, and the afternoon sunlight make her blue opal tiara sparkle almost as much as her smile, and at the end of the row stood Frigga, who was dabbing at her tear-filled eyes with a handkerchief as they walked past and ascended the gazebo’s steps.

Elora patiently waited for all the guests to take their seats to begin. “We are gathered here to witness the union of Crown Princess (Y/N) Layeiadottir (Y/L/N) of Alfheim and Midgard and Prince Loki of Asgard, two halves of the same shining soul, in blessed matrimony. Do both parties stand here of your own free will to acknowledge the eternal bond shared by the both of you?”

“We do,” Loki and (Y/N) replied in unison.

“Then you may face one another, join hands and recite your written vows.”

After (Y/N) handed her bouquet over to Natasha and placed her hands in Loki’s, she took a steadying breath before smiling up at him. “Loki. Through all the tears and all the struggles we’ve overcome together, a part of me always knew that we were destined to make it here. My heart was yours the moment I first looked into your beautiful eyes and as I look into them now, I can see every ounce of the passion and devotion I feel for you reflected in them. Sweetheart, you’re my greatest love and the brightest light in my life, and I promise to love and cherish you from here to eternity as your wife.”

Loki swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself not to cry as he started speaking his own vows. “(Y/N). Not a day goes by where I don’t count myself the luckiest man in all the Nine Realms to have the love of someone as utterly magnificent as you. In the beginning of our romance, I feared that you were too good to be true, that I couldn’t possibly be deserving of someone so pure and loving as you are. But here we stand, surrounded by our friends and family, and I feel proud and incredibly blessed to become your husband. My darling, you’re my lover, my best friend and my eternal soulmate. All I am is yours, and here before our friends, our family and the Norns themselves, I vow to be until the end of time.”

(Y/N)’s eyes were filled with unshed tears and although Loki’s gaze never left hers, he could hear the sniffles and rustling of Kleenex packages amongst their guests. “(Y/N), do you take Loki to be your husband, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and disappointment, to love him faithfully today, tomorrow and forever?”

“I do,” (Y/N) vowed and smiled widely up at him.

“Loki, do you take (Y/N) to be your wife, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and disappointment, to love her faithfully today, tomorrow and forever?”

Loki solemnly nodded as he vowed, “I do.”

“And now, for the rings.”

Cassie nodded, handing one ring to Natasha and the other to Thor before giving her father an excited wave, causing a ripple of giggles through the rows of guests; the spy handed (Y/N) the ring and her eyes flicked between his and the thin band she held as she recited the ceremony’s next words. “I present to you this ring as a symbol of my devotion.” She slipped the band onto his ring finger to rest above his gold engagement ring. “My body, my soul and my everlasting love I share with you always and forever.”

Accepting the ring that his brother handed him, Loki gave (Y/N) another smile before reciting, “I present to you this ring as a symbol of my devotion.” He slipped the band onto her finger above her sparkling engagement ring. “My body, my soul and my everlasting love I share with you always and forever.”

“May these symbols of your devotion serve to always remind you of your everlasting bond.” Elora’s golden-colored eyes were slowly misting over as she spoke, no doubt wishing that (Y/N)’s late mother and father could be there to witness their only child be married. “And now, by the power vested in me by my rank as General of the Alfheimian Army, it is my honor to declare you both married. Go forth and live each day of your lives together to the fullest. You may seal this declaration with a kiss.”

Beaming with happiness, (Y/N) stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against Loki’s in a brief but passionate kiss that he was quick to reciprocate. For one singular blissful moment, everything and everyone around them faded away and they stood alone on the gazebo, sharing a sweet and loving kiss that symbolized their long-awaited unification as husband and wife. The cheering and applause from their guests brought Loki back to reality sooner than he would’ve liked but after reminding himself that they’d have plenty of time to be alone later, he ended their kiss and gave his wife a mischievous smile before scooping her up in his arms and spinning around while she burst into joyous laughter.

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

To say that the wedding reception was one of the liveliest parties (Y/N) had ever attended would be an understatement. From the moment they were declared husband and wife, she felt as through she’d been whisked straight into a dream that seemingly had no end to it; once they finished having their wedding photographs taken, they spent a half an hour by themselves in one of Stark Mansion’s many living rooms, enjoying several slices of pizza (and lots of kisses, of course) and taking time to relax for the first time that day while the guests filtered into the ballroom for the reception.

After (Y/N) and Loki snuck into the beautifully-decorated ballroom and made their rounds around the tables to greet their guests as they enjoyed their dinner, the trio of teenagers they’d allowed to be their DJ’s took their places behind their equipment and announced the bride and groom’s first dance as husband and wife; they both had fun watching their guests’ reactions when, instead of some sort of romantic waltz or ballad, they danced along to the fast-paced disco hit ‘You’re The First, The Last, My Everything,’ spinning and twirling so much around the dance floor that (Y/N) was thankful she’d removed her floral crown and veil and that Loki had dressed down to just his black tuxedo.

The guests took to the dance floor once dinner was cleared away and while Loki danced with Frigga, Thor asked (Y/N) for a dance. From there, (Y/N) danced with every member of the Avengers and their off-realm guests to a wide variety of music; she requested Big Band tunes for Steve and Bucky and slower songs for Bruce and the Warrior’s Three, while Tony, Clint and Sam happily danced along with her to some faster pop numbers. Natasha pulled her into a ladies-only group dance with Jane, Darcy, Helen and Maria, and after a brief dance with Everett Ross, (Y/N) had their trio of DJ’s pause the music so she could reveal her surprise for Loki.

“I’d like to start out by thanking you all for being here with us today,” (Y/N) began as she stood before the crowded ballroom. “As I’m sure some of you know, I had a difficult road to recovery after the Battle of Boston. Sam suggested that I take up playing the piano again as a form of musical therapy, but I was hesitant at first; you see, my aunt taught me to play when I was a child and I stopped when she died because I couldn’t enjoy the music without her. Loki…” Her voice momentarily caught in her throat at the unexpected emotions welling up within her, but spotting her husband standing amongst the crowd helped her to steady herself and keep going. “Loki stayed with me every single time I sat myself at the piano. With him by my side, I found the strength to enjoy the music again and slowly but surely, I started to heal. Loki’s always been there for me when I needed him the most, which is why I’d like to dedicate this next song to my new husband.”

Peter and MJ plugged in the last chord as (Y/N) sat down at the electric keyboard they’d set up for her, both teenagers ducking out of the way with a whispered “break a leg!” while she adjusted the microphone and straightened her posture; seeing the curious expression on Loki’s face and the eager anticipation filling his emerald-green eyes, (Y/N) gave him a smile and a little wink before she began to play.

“Sweet, wonderful you, you make me happy with the things you do. Oh, can it be so, this feeling follows me wherever I go. I never did believe in miracles, but I’ve a feeling it’s time to try…I never did believe in the ways of magic, but I’m beginning to wonder why…” A widening grin played on (Y/N)’s lips as the guests took to the dance floor and started to dance to the spirited Fleetwood Mac tune while she sang. “I never did believe in miracles, but I’ve a feeling it’s time to try…I never did believe in the ways of magic, but I’m beginning to wonder why…” While the guests continued to dance, Loki approached the electric keyboard she was seated at and watched her fingers fly across the keys with an unreadable expression on his face. “Don’t, don’t break the spell, it would be different and you know it will. You, you make loving fun, and I don’t have to tell you but you’re the only one. You, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…you, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…you, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…you, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…”

When the song finally came to an end, the crowd burst into applause and their three DJ’s were quick to select another pop song that kept everyone out on the dance floor. (Y/N) thanked the teenagers for their help and crossed the makeshift stage to where Loki stood but before she could say anything, his arms were around her and he was dipping her low as his lips captured hers in a reverent kiss; when they were finally forced to separate for air, her husband straightened them both up but kept his arms wound around her waist and gave her a tender grin. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you sing, darling, and you sang that beautiful song just for me. Rest assured, I’ll treasure that moment for the rest of my days.”

“Thanks to our archer-turned-videographer, you’ll be able to watch it over and over until you get sick of it,” (Y/N) chuckled as she glanced past Loki to see Clint filming Natasha and Thor reenacting the famous lift from Dirty Dancing to the amazement of the dancers nearest to them.

Loki’s fingers gently took hold of her chin and guided her to look at him, and his love-struck gaze remained trained on hers as he slowly shook his head. “Never, my love. Now, how about a slice of cake and some Asgardian mead?”

Everyone gathered to watch (Y/N) and Loki cut their three-tiered wedding cake with one of his intricate daggers and after they’d indulged in their dessert, four of their grinning and slightly-inebriated teammates took to the makeshift stage; Natasha and Clint’s cheeks were tinged red, Sam’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his bow-tie was missing, and Tony couldn’t contain his giggles as he stepped up to one of the microphones.

“Hey, guys! Great party, huh?” The crowd cheered and Tony nodded in agreement. “Well, you better hold onto your hats ‘cause it’s about to get even greater!”

(Y/N), who was standing beside Loki and catching up with both Pepper and Helen, looked over at her husband with eyes widened in horror. “He’s not about to give a speech, is he?”

“Not if he doesn’t wanna spend tonight sleeping on the couch,” The CEO replied before taking another sip of her champagne. “Trust me, he and I already had a lengthy discussion about what constitutes as appropriate wedding reception behavior.”

“In my experience, Mr. Stark tends not to retain information told to him in less than three sentences or in any tone other than pleasant.” The world-renowned geneticist let out a long-suffering sigh and watched the four Avengers setting up several more microphone stands. “Hence why he’s permanently banned from my laboratory.”

While Pepper gave Helen an understanding nod, Loki wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders and gave her a comforting squeeze. “I’m sure that whatever they’re planning will be very touching…also, Romanoff stole Stark’s intended speech and vaguely threatened bodily harm if he attempted to improvise one; he may be an impulsive Midgardian, but he knows better than to find himself at the mercy of the Black Widow.”

(Y/N) chuckled as the lighting dimmed and all of a sudden, a spotlight landed on the two of them. “You see, the four of us up here got together and decided we wanted to do somethin’ special for our two good friends here. Like (Y/L/N) here mentioned earlier, she used music to help her out during her recovery and she’d play for all of us in the tower; so, we got together and figured that it was time we were the ones to play something for her…or rather, sing something for her. Hit it, adolescent DJ’s!”

The teenagers began to play an instrumental track of Frankie Valli and the Four Season’s ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You,’ and Loki offered her his hand. “Shall we?”

With a smile on her face, (Y/N) nodded and allowed her husband to lead her to the empty center of the dance floor, slow-dancing along to the song’s pleasant introduction and biting her lip to keep from giggling when Tony and Sam started singing and Natasha and Clint provided their back-up vocals. “You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you. You’d be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much. At long last love has arrived, and I thank God I’m alive. You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you…”

“Did you tell them that I like this song?” (Y/N) suddenly asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she examined Loki’s overly-cheerful face. “Because I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned to any of them that I like this song.”

Loki merely arched a brow and his emerald-green eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now, why would I do such an odd thing as that?”

“Pardon the way that I stare, there’s nothin’ else to compare. The sight of you leaves me weak, there are no words left to speak. But if you feel like I feel, please let me know that it’s real. You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you…”

As the small instrumental revved up for the chorus, (Y/N) was twirled around in tight circles and before she could question her husband further, his voice suddenly echoed throughout the ballroom and sang, “I love you, baby!” (Y/N) gasped in disbelief when she looked over at the makeshift stage to see Loki standing at one of the microphones, and she laughed when she realized that her dance partner was a clone created from Loki’s magic. “And if it’s quite alright I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night, I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…” Loki was grinning widely as he sang and when his eyes found (Y/N)’s, he gave her a sly wink. “Oh, pretty baby! Now that I’ve found you, stay, and let me love you, baby, let me love you!”

“You really are a trickster,” (Y/N) remarked to Loki’s smirking clone, who merely shrugged and continued to sway them across the dance floor.

“When our friendship first began, my darling (Y/N) took it upon herself to introduce me to all of Midgard’s greatest literary creations and being the dedicated bibliophile that she is, she more than succeeded.” The real Loki onstage smiled as he held onto the microphone. “Each and every novel and play she recommended provided me insight into her beautiful mind but when it came to watching the filmed adaptations of her favorite literary works, I was able to observe just how they affected her…which is how I know that (Y/N) adores the scene in a certain modern Shakespearean adaptation when the handsome lead surprises the heroine with a public show of affection.”

(Y/N) felt her face warm and a reluctant grin spread across her face as she glanced back at the clone she was dancing with. “10 Things I Hate About You was the first movie we watched together when I joined the Avengers. I…I can’t believe you remembered that…”

The clone leaned down and pressed a kiss onto her forehead while the real Loki onstage continued to sing. “I love you, baby! And if it’s quite alright I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night, I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…Oh, pretty baby! Don’t bring me down, I pray, oh pretty baby, now that I’ve found you, stay, oh pretty baby, trust in me when I say…”

When the song came to an end, the clone vanished in a shimmer of green magic and as the crowd clapped and cheered, an impressed-looking Darcy leaned towards (Y/N) and yelled over the din, “Geez, is there anything that guy can’t do?”

“If there is, then I’ve certainly never seen it!” (Y/N) chuckled and when Loki finally made his way through the crowd, she looped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him. “That was beautiful, sweetheart!”

“It was a challenge to keep our rehearsals a secret and I might’ve downed a shot or two of liquid courage beforehand, but I’m glad that you enjoyed it.” He pressed a kiss onto the tip of her nose and grinned when she laughed at the ticklish sensation. “You surprised me with a beautifully-performed song, and I surprised you with a slightly-less conventional performance; I suppose that great minds really do think alike.”

“Okay, here’s another oldie for all you oldies out there!” Ned Leeds’ amplified voice announced and the opening notes of The Village People’s ‘Y.M.C.A.’ filled the ballroom, causing the guests to eagerly take to the dance floor.

Nearby, Jane frowned and turned to Darcy standing beside her. “Wait, did that kid just call us old?”

“Join the club,” Both Steve and Bucky quipped as Natasha and Jennifer Walters dragged them past towards the center of the dance floor.

“Oh, I love this song!” (Y/N) grabbed Loki’s hands and started to sway along to the catchy beat. “It was in The Office, remember? It’s the song that plays towards the end of the Café Disco episode!”

“You’re right, but I’m still confused as to why a song about a worldwide youth organization inspires such a visceral reaction in Midgardians.” Loki studied the dancers around them in curious amusement. “And what about it has anything to do with weddings?”

She ducked under his arms and spun so that her back was pressed against his front, craning her neck so that she could meet his gaze with a grin. “It’s a catchy, cheesy song that has the easiest dance moves in the world to perform. Doesn’t that make it the perfect party song?”

Loki shrugged and spun her back out to face him. “Only if one has the perfect dance partner to go along with it.”

“Then I suppose we’re in luck,” (Y/N) quipped, pressing a kiss onto her husband’s knuckles before manipulating his arms along to the song’s iconic chorus and dissolving into a fit of giggles at the absurdity of the God of Mischief dancing along to ‘Y.M.C.A..’

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

When the moon was high in the star-filled sky and the reception inside Stark Mansion was beginning to wind down, Loki and (Y/N) snuck off to the gazebo they were married in and swayed to the slow music playing in the distance, surrounded only by the beautiful flowers and twinkling fairy lights that decorated the structure. (Y/N)’s head rested on Loki’s shoulder and his eyes were closed as one of his hands held hers against his chest, directly over his heart.

“Do you think that we’ll see Doctor Strange again?”

Loki thoughtfully hummed and nodded. “I’m sure we will, but not for a long while; I believe that the superhero lifestyle unnerved the poor fellow and I doubt he wants to incite the anger of any of our friends. As long as you continue to train and master your abilities, there won’t be a reason for that second-rate sorcerer to bother you again.”

(Y/N) lifted her head so that she could meet his gaze, a single brow arched as her (Y/E/C) eyes sparkled with delight. “So, are you finally going to tell me where we’re going on our honeymoon?”

“And ruin the surprise I’ve spent two months meticulously planning? Where’s the fun in that?”

“Loki, I have to know what sort of clothes to pack!”

“Darling, I don’t imagine we’ll be wearing any for the majority of the honeymoon.” Loki’s teasing snickers quickly transitioned to laughter when (Y/N)’s fingers mercilessly tickled his neck in retaliation. “All right, all right, I surrender! On Monday, you and I will travel the Bifrost to Karapiro, New Zealand and spend ten days at Lakeview Lodge; we’ll have the opportunity to visit Rotorua, the Waitomo Caves and even take a tour of-”

“Hobbiton,” (Y/N) gasped and Loki’s grin widened as her face lit up with excitement. “We’re going to see where they filmed The Lord of the Rings movies?!” When he nodded, she flung her arms around his neck and nearly tackled him to the floor with the force of her embrace, but he was quick to catch her and hold her up against him while she laughed in delight. “I have the absolute best husband in the world!”

Loki’s heart leapt in his chest when she called him her husband and when she moved her hands to cradle his face, he tenderly smiled up at her and replied, “Well, the best wife in the world deserves everything I can offer her and more, does she not?”

(Y/N)’s expression softened into a look of loving adoration, and the feather-light touch of her thumbs caressing his cheekbones nearly made his eyes flutter closed in bliss. “You know, I think about that day we first met in the library from time to time. I replay the entire scene my mind – how I stumbled and how you were by my side in an instant to catch me, how our eyes locked and my breath was nearly taken away by the way you looked at me, how my heartbeat sped up when I realized how much I enjoyed having your arms around me – and when I do, I thank the universe for sending a mischievous and misunderstood trickster to steal my heart that day.”

“When I think of that fateful day, I find myself thanking the Norns for sending a kind and passionate lost princess to spellbind me, body and soul,” Loki huskily replied as his eyes stung with the prickling of tears. “And I pray that she’ll never set me free.”

(Y/N), her eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy, gently shook her head and leaned forward to ghost her lips over his. “As long as the trickster holds her heart, she never ever will. So…” She held her hand up and stuck her little finger into the air with the hint of a playful grin on her face. “Pinky-Promise?”

Loki laughed and adjusted his hold on her so that he could wrap his little finger around hers. “Pinky-Promise.”

Their lips finally met in a passionate and unhurried kiss and Loki sighed at the heavenly sensation of (Y/N)’s fingers carding through his hair, holding his beautiful wife in a tight embrace and smiling through the love-filled kisses they exchanged beneath the gazebo’s twinkling lights.

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

A/N: I honestly loved writing this and indulging in some of my own personal wedding dreams lol if anyone would like to see the different reference pics I used while designing the wedding, just shoot me a message and I’ll send ‘em to you! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk?si=5fcb3ef04de544e7

Three’s Company (A Spellbinding-Verse Interlude)

“Spellbinding” Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva​​​​​​​​​​​ @ravenclawbitch426​​​​​​​​​​​ @cminr​​​​​​​​​ @confusedfandomwriter​​​​​​​​​​​ @momc95​​​​​​​​​​​ @nickkie99​​​​​​​​​​​ @austynparksandpizza​​​​​​​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​​​​​​​ @a-laufeyson​​​​​​​​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​​​​​​​​ @itscomplicatedx​​​​​​​​​​​​ @0-artemis​​​​​​​​​​​​ @vivloki​​​​​​​​​​​​ @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​​​​​​​​ @groovy-lady​​​​​​​​ @mostclevermiss​​​​​​      

#spellbinding #loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #clint barton #hawkeye #natasha romanoff #black widow #thor odinson #frigga #cassie lang #scott lang #sam wilson #bucky barnes #tony stark #steve rogers #james rhodes #stephen strange #doctor strange #nick fury #maria hill #peter parker #michelle jones #ned leeds #steven grant #layla el faouly #marvel cinematic universe

[jknauer]

My Grandfather’s Betamax and Modelling New Product Diffusion [1] [2]:

My grandfather loved his Betamax camcorder.  Sometimes when I picture him he is carrying it with him, casually strung across his shoulder with the rainbow Sony strap (not unlike the one pictured) on display.  My grandfather was convinced that Betamax was the superior and bound-to-be enduring technology.  I imagine that he thought those home movies would be family heirlooms to be viewed again and again via compatible Betamax players.

I don’t want to paint the picture of my grandfather as naïve.  He was well educated (with degrees in Electrical Engineering and an MBA to boot) and a highly successful executive in one of the world’s enduring mega-engineering corporations.  Perhaps he would be better characterized as an earlier version of me: be that a more successful, more dignified, more worldly, and much taller version of me.  But one thing is for sure, his intuition regarding the staying power of Betamax was wide of the mark. Certainly, we could dissect the various blunders on Sony’s part which ensured that Betamax technology would never achieve market saturation.  Yes, it’s easy to Monday morning quarterback most things, but could the right models have been applied to predict, with a measure of accuracy, the rise and fall of Betamax?  For that matter, can we model diffusion of new products to untested markets?  Take, for example, pre-sliced peanut butter slices, adhesive bandages embedded with nanocrystals of pure silver, a PC plug-in to release scents, a collapsible wheel, and a modified synthetic substance for horse racetracks.  While these products sound far-fetched, they all share something in common.  They are all 100% real products.

One powerful tool for forecasting the market diffusion of new and innovative products is the Bass Diffusion Model.  Prior to Sony’s sale of the first Betamax camcorder (to my grandfather or someone just like him), the existing customer base was exactly zero.  As product adoption began, the positive feedback from the handful of early adopters was so minimal that it was negligible, and thus a predictive model such as the Bass model needed to capture alternate adoption channels such as news media coverage, advertising, and directed sales efforts by Sony.  To solve this problem, Frank Bass developed the Bass Diffusion Model in 1969 (see sample model diagram below) which solved the start-up puzzle by postulating that potential adopters are made aware of the new product via external information sources which can be modelled as constant over time in terms of magnitude and persuasiveness (effectiveness)[3].  The aggregate adoption rate is the sum of adoptions resulting from word of mouth and adoptions resulting from advertising and external influences.

So, what happened to Betamax?  Long before it could be cannibalized by superior technology it was dead in its tracks due to inferior technology: VHS (boo!).  This was one of the rare times that Sony publicly and massively miscalculated.  The popularity of this new technology was largely a function of externalities, specifically the size of the user base.  By playing it close to the vest with its new technology, Sony kept the Betamax out of the hands of its competitors.  We all know how that played out.  Very soon every home had some type of VHS machine, and my family was left to watch my grandfather’s home movies while others were out renting E.T. and Tootsie and all of the other the latest blockbusters.  The takeaway messages are numerous: 1) don’t trust your grandfather’s intuition, 2) all models have their limitations, and 3) pre-packaged peanut butter slices are only part of the solution without the jelly slices to go with.

[1] Image sources: image of someone making home movies 1980s betamax - Search Images (bing.com), peanut butter and jelly - Search Images (bing.com)

[2] Content for this article sourced from “Forecasting the Adoption of a New Product” by Professor Elie Ofek and Research Assistant Peter Wickersham, President and Fellows of Harvard College,  Copyright 2005; “Four Products: Predicting Diffusion” by Professor John T. Gourville,  President and Fellows of Harvard College,  Copyright 2001; “Four Products: Predicting Diffusion (2008)” by Professor John T. Gourville,  President and Fellows of Harvard College,  Copyright 2008.

[3] “Business Dynamics” by John D. Sterman, copyright 2000.

#MITsloanbranding2024 #mitsloanbranding2024A #MITSLOANBRANDING2024A

[spider-jaysart]

Something of a Christmas Ask Incoming (Might not be entirely related to The Holiday but hey better now than never)

As Kaiju Film Buff who practices her directing skills with her camcorder and phone camera, Meredith one day gets a project from her Film Class to make a short film of any choosing and any genre.

Only real requirements; Make it about 30 minutes long and it has to be a complete story

And so, FINALLY Meredith can make her own kaiju movie

Would she ask Chris, Jake, Mar’i and maybe a friend or two who are good at makeup and monster suits to aid her in this project?

@paladin-of-nerd-fandom65

Oh Jake, who's super head over heels for Meredith, would already be the one calling her first to offer a helping hand after hearing from Thara about her big project lol

Meredith is surprised that he even knew about it before she could actually ask and tell him about it herself, but she's happy anyways to hear how helpful he wants to be and accepts his offer. Meredith then asks Thara to be one of her actors and also asks Chris if he could be the monster for her mini movie and they both fortunately say yes

The busy day soon arrives and the whole group, including Mar'i who was very curious to see how everything is done, are at her door ready to get to work

Chris loves finding ways to be interacting with Thara everytime, so he offers to do her makeup before filming while everyone else is still busy setting everything up, and she lets him

He doesn't admit that he's never done makeup for anyone or even himself before though, so as he's trying his best, Mar'i, who's watching him, can't help but get really annoyed at the very amateur way Chris is applying it on Thara and feels the strong need to step in and take over before he ruins it all any further than he already did. He gets a little embarrassed when she moves him out of the way and takes the supplies from his hands and tries to argue with her that he was doing just fine, which gets Mar'i to respond with "Chris, I saw how you were working on her face and I can't lie, all of the mistakes you were making were just all very terrifying to witness. I actually deal with this all the time, so I'm an expert on it. Plus, my close Uncle is a complete professional artist, so I totally know exactly what I'm doing." Which gets him to be quiet in defeat and gets a small giggle out of Thara as well

A little bit later, Meredith and Jake help Chris fit into his monster costume, making sure he's all very comfortable and is able to breath properly, which he can. Jake, Thara and Chris then read and try to memorize all of their respective lines on the script the best that they can. Meredith and Mar'i let them know that if they forget any of it by mistake while acting, they'll make sure to remind them what it was

After getting everyone and everything prepared, they all went outside and got to recording, having a blast acting everything out together. Sometimes they accidentally broke character while on the little set, bursting with laughter if they got too nervous or made a mistake in what they did or couldn't take moment in a scene seriously enough. Most times it was even contagious enough to get a few good laughs out of both Mar'i and Meredith too as well while watching everything

It took a lot of hours in the day for them to get it all done, but they successfully did it. Jake later offered to sit down with Meredith in her kitchen and help her edit all the footage together, which she was very grateful for. Chris took off his suit and was left in sweat from being in it all day, Thara was pretty sleepy from doing all of those many scenes and Mar'i was busy putting all the equipment and makeup away wherever Meredith told her it belonged

Meredith noticed this and could see that it was getting pretty late by now after taking just one good look at the clock on the wall and decided they should just have a sleepover for the night and review the film together, calling it a movie night for them all. Everybody liked the sound of that and called their parents to let them know that they were staying over at her place. Chris got use the shower after getting Meredith's permission and Mar'i and Thara got to relax on the couch together after cleaning up everything.

After ordering pizza, getting comfortable in the living room together, once the homemade film was put on to watch, everyone could see that all the put in effort from every single one of them was all very worth it in the end

They all enjoyed every bit of it and fell asleep once it was finally over. Mar'i was the only one left awake though and turned the tv off to bring peaceful silence for everyones ears. She grabbed a couple of spare blanket for herself that she remembered Meredith telling her about in case if she wanted anymore and went to go place on her friends. Once she got to Meredith and Jake who were laying next to one another though, she saw them both with peaceful smiles on their faces and their hands placed on top of eachothers too while they were still asleep, which caused her to giggle to herself since it was a pretty cute moment. She took a quick, nice, clear picture of them with her phone and soon went to sleep after that

She was so showing it to Jake in the morning after leaving back home so that she could see the hilarious, flustered expression on her dear little brothers face

Meredith ended up getting an A on her project and she was super joyed about it. She later told everyone while chatting on her laptop with them and thanked them a for their big help, letting them all know that she appreciated it very much. They later went out for ice cream and pizza that day to celebrate together and had such a great time!

#meredith robinson #jake grayson #mari grayson #chris kent

[superluigiglitchy]

Really specific ass headcanons on the cast of SMG4

Meggy is really stubborn about sleep not because of her coffee addiction but because of nightmares she has from the anime island incident, the YouTube graveyard and pretty recently from Wild Spaghetti and Wren and pretty much just her trauma in general which results in her having some pretty bad insomnia

She's gotten better though because the glitchy gang don't want a repeat of what happened the last time she didnt sleep for days (read: she got a pretty bad fever because her human body hasnt adjusted to her newly made immune system and prettu much had a breakdown both from the stress, sleep deprivation and delirium caused form her fever) and she's trying to be better for them

What usually helps her sleep is having her cat Loaf near her, having one or more members of the gang sleep in a cuddle pile with her, a good cup of tea with some ramen noodles or the most embarrassing one for her: being rubbed behind her pointed ears

So far Mario and Luigi are some constant cuddle buddies of hers but Tari is a close second with Melony, Boopkins, Saiko and surprisingly Bob in third

With Meggy only looking human physically, she still retains all her inkling functions (plus a little something extra thanks shaggy) meaning yes she can still very much purr and she hates it

Mario and the others often exploit this

I am applying my inklings are basically aquatic cats headcanon onto Meggy and no one can stop me

Saiko is allergic to pollen and is practically knocked out during the first week of spring, yes Tari fusses over her a lot during this time

Bob is capable of being a good business man, he just needs to shed his old habits and bad practices this is easier said than done though

Unbeknownst to anyone not even herself, Tari is very susceptible to viruses, why she hasn't been infected by any is both a combination of dumb luck and being smart on what video games she enters (which is also a result of dumb luck) however that may change soon if TvWare involved now

Kaizo very much teases Saiko about her crush on Tari after he found out every chance he gets, he in turn nearly gets whacked with a hammer by the red faced pinkette

He's super supportive of her crush and will kick anyone's ass who objects, wingmans with Meggy so the idiots can finally confess to eachother

Mario wears a lot of star patches and bandages because he's silly like that

Peach went apocalypse survivor mode for a few weeks and did pretty well while trapped in the demon pit her castle was in, it's just that she got infect by the demon goop A week before SMG4 and the others could go down there to fetch the star, if the crew were to return and search around the remnants of the castle they would find a camcorder and a series of videos tapes of Peach's exploits and find the last 3 tapes are of her expressing her thought as she's been thinking of her actions from the past few years as of late and her regretting how she treated the others, Mario especially and how she wants to apologise to them and treat them all better once she gets out of this literal hell hole

Of course we all knew what happened after that

Luigi has seven evil ex boyfriends, each of which have experienced the wrath of Mario

Mario is also super supportive of Luigi and will also kick anyone's ass who objects

Peach and Daisy are dating, no one is aware of this and no one has figured it out

Pls add Daisy to SMG4 I want to see her kick ass and be a menace

Tari knows some karate moves and will not hesitate to use them post- western spaghetti, clench just speeds up the fighting with a laser and other dubious weapons that Tari didn't know her arm had

Boopkins has a guilty pleasure of watching scooby doo

Smg3 would make an animal sanctuary for any friends Eggdog makes

When Meggy gets sick (which is rare AF) she sorta acts... Kinda like a feral cat

Bob can confirm this statement with all the beak bite mark scars he has and scratches too

For some reason she's not mean to Mario, Luigi, Saiko or Tari (which is to be expected) but also Jubjub and Boopkins

Mario and Luigi consider Meggy A third Mario brother, Meggy cried for an hour straight when she found out about this because of how happy she was

She know uses the named Meggy Spletzer-Mario

Yes I still find it funny Mario and Luigi's last names are Mario so Mario Mario and Luigi Mario

Swag and Chris married for tax benefits

Everyone thinks that's a lie

#smg4 #the glitchy gang #i am not tagging everyone im sorry

[malaurymalfunctional]

1, 6, 12, 39

get asked things, dork (affectionate

welp, get your reading glasses out everyone

1: 3 things that shaped me into who i am

-1: luck. from the classic things like being born in a wealthy western country, being white (not inherently lucky but made me privileged/safer), having a relatively nice familly with no financial struggle, etc, to smaller stuff. like, it's a miracle i was never bullied in school. if it wasn't for that one person, maybe i would've died. i had free access to the internet since i was like 9, and somehow never stumbled on stuff that was inapropriate for my age

i consider myself quite lucky, despite all the hardships

-2: being trans. sorry to the people who think it's cringe when we make it our whole personnality, but it is litteraly so important. so central. i cannot fathom what i would be like if i weren't trans. that's just not the same person

-3: having weird ass parents. by that i mean that they're almost not like parents, more like... people i lived with that cared for me? i of course mean that in the sense that i don't have any special emotional attachment to them and all, but also that it doesn't feel like they raised me because they transmitted so little to me. my way of seeing the world, my hobbies, my fears, my political opinions, my general knowledge, my understanding of myself and others, my skills, i got them from, well, not them. the internet school, my friends, but not my parents. truly, i don't really know these people

6: best and worst part of being online

i've been here most of my life, so all the bad is just part of it. yes, that's where all the haters are. sure, all of the horrible things in existence can be found here. but that's also where my friends are. that's where community is. that's my only way of accessing at least 50% of what makes me happy. it has taught me so much about the world and myself, has held so many fulfilling experiences for me

if i had to choose 1 worst, i'd say transmisoginy i guess? i dunno, girl, i'm not even popular enough to get hate mail

12: a piece of advice i'd like to give

like i said in a previous post of mine i'm just 18. i'm like a baby. i feel like the least qualified person on earth to be giving advice. but i'll say one thing: advices are kinda bullshit. in essence they're opinions you think will be helpfull to someone else. but in my experience, they rarely are, especially when talking about life choices, mental health and the such. i watched hundreds of hours of self help videos, listened to people, went to therapy, and i felt like a fucking moron. i knew all the things, i had the advice, but it wasn't working. in the end, what helped me crawl out of the pit is time, love, and a bunch of stuff i'll never know about. find what works for you and ditch what doesn't; it's not because a piece of advice is true that it is helpful. searching for your solution will probably work better than just trying to apply the solutions others found

39: a youtuber i'm obssessed with

hard and specific

brennan lee mulligan? absolutely obssessed. a youtuber? not really

thegreatreview (he's french)? amazing youtuber. so fucking talented. obssessed? not really

dougdoug? obssessed by his entire cinematic universe for a while now. a youtuber? maybe 50%? it's all twitch streams highlights

john and hank green? ok i'll stop there

let's settle for brian david gilbert then, the man so nice they named him thrice. please buy his bed.

most well known for his Unravelled series on Polygon's channel, like the one about the sonic bible or the one about the smash bros osha violations, his personnal stuff is simply perfect, sometimes whimsical, like "i wish that i could wear hats" or "Pumpkin Cowboy", sometimes horrifying, like the one about the american healthcare system or "Teaching Jake about the Camcorder, Jan '97", often a mix of both, like "we like watching birds" or "earn $20K EACH MONTH by being your own boss". his comedic genius is at its best when it is also at its weirdest. he's also the guy who made the sibling dance song, i guess

[toxik14]

In a world where the internet is such a core part of our lives, for better or worse (its for worse most of the time), found footage has never been more important. we have high definition cameras in our pockets every day, your fucking fridge may have a camera, we define ourselves so much by recording everything in social media, this can be a bad thing, but it can also be a good thing, specially with art. that old critique of "why are they still holding the camera?" doesnt really apply anymore, because we are all so obsessed with recording everything. recordings represent memories, feelings, people, experiences, stories. found footage is such a special medium that i hold dear to my heart. wether its a cctv recording, or a camcorder, or a semi professional camera, or a webcam, or a screen recording, or, yes, a cursed VHS tape, as saturated as that scene is, its special. there's nothing like it. found footage can play around with perspective, both on a story sense and a literal sense, the limitation of 1 or 2 cameras, different recordings, different cameras, different times, different places. blair witch was about an independent documentary by amateur filmmakers REC was about a reporter and a cameraman making a segment for a TV show. Cloverfield is about a group of friends recording their friend's party with a camcorder. Marble Hornets was about a student film and someone investigating it. Everymanhybrid is about a fitness youtube channel. Creep 2 is about a documentarian who uploads to youtube finding a weird guy. and that one tiktok arg was about ghostface or something the genre evolves. and yes analog horror counts too, it's totheark taken to the extreme, it's haunted tapes, as saturated as it is, it can be good. digital horror is also a subgenre, focusing more on screen recordings of videogames or programs. all of these can mix together, eckva has both analog horror elements AND found footage elements, Unfriended as mediocre as it is, has an impresive way of storytelling that i haven't seen been recreated that much apart from like 2 movies (seriously someone make like a webseries where the characters record a discord call with OBS or something), monument mythos isnt even analog horror anymore, it's this strange combination of mockumentary and fucking insane media trickery, its amazing. BDG made a horror video thats a parody of get rich quick tutorials, like go fucking watch Wham City's stuff, this house has people in it is one of the best found footage ARG media in existance, alantutorial is fucking awesome.

So then

GO GO MAKE FOUND FOOTAGE SHIT NOW DO IT NOW TRY NEW THINGS GRAB YOUR CAMERA GRAB YOUR PHONE WHATEVER BUT DO IT NOW!!!!

#found footage

[magnetictapedatastorage]

Hello hello, my brithday is coming up soon and I want a tape recorder real bad. Which ones do you recommend for an absolute beginner who knows nothing except that timeshifting is super cool and a total "gotcha!" to my parents who think piracy is bad?

something at least 30 years old, preferably rectangular, with headphone-jack-shaped input and output and some piano-key style controls. I personally use a Tandy CCR-81. anything that looks basically like this should be ok:

you don't want anything hand-held, or boombox-shaped. and absolutely NOTHING post-Y2K. Oh, and you should buy two cheap audio cables (headphone jack on each end, these cost only a couple bucks) so you have a way to get audio into and out of the device. But on to the other stuff...

this really isn't quite the same as piracy, because you need to be able to access the media you're copying already. Bootlegging used to be the term for this, and people have applied it to copied floppies, camcorder-taped plays, and many other things that have nowadays actually been normalized due to recording equipment being pocket-small and recordings being able to travel wirelessly around the globe.

I have no moral issue with modern digital piracy, but you need to be wary of consequences. If your parents don't want you torrenting with the internet connection they pay for, that's actually a very reasonable line to not cross, because if you get caught, it's on them. Recording a song from youtube or the radio is a completely different ballgame from digital piracy, because tape recording it's completely undetectable and sort of already legal. Again I have no moral issues with either of them, but the more I've learned, the less I've felt that they should be conflated.

Happy birthday, and remember to keep an open mind on these things. I understand the instinct to "gotcha" your parents, but put yourself in their shoes.

#magnetic tape #I made some very avoidable mistakes as a teenage pirate

[truckfreaks]

for the "questions I think would be fun to be asked"

2, 17, 28, 31, 34!

2) show us a picture of your handwriting?

oof ok!

17) name 3 things that make you happy:

bugs, plants, and making people laugh!

28) do you collect anything?

oh lord yeah. i collect specific kindsa toys and electronics??, i guess would be the big catchall for what i've got... i like to pick stuff up on a deal and see if i can clean/fix it. i have a big collection of old, weird virtual pets (many are tamagotchis but many are not!), old cameras and camcorders, muppets things, knockoff/bootleg plushies or figures... oh, and i also collect divination tools, like tarot decks... and things that are tarot-adjacent, i guess (like, i have two decks of Clow cards from cardcaptors that i translated a japanese guide for which outlined how to use it for divination...) and some of my virtual pets are ALSO divination tools! (angelscope and miraiscope come to mind.)

31) are you messy or organised?

i have to be pretty organized! i live in a small space so i do my best to make the most of my storage... but sometimes i fall behind like anyone else! :)

34) any pet peeves?

mmm, yeah, kinda! it annoys me when i get caught up in my own fatalism... i do my best to disengage from this! i also dislike when people very clearly are being overly nice to me for something because they want or need something... like, i'm not scary, just ask! :) i am very very very bad at any communication that is not direct so when people toe around making their point or telling me something in a straightforward way, i can get very confused! this also applies for when something is obviously bothering a person, but they refuse to acknowledge it. i understand the boundary of saying "yes i am upset but i do not want to talk about it at the moment", that is valid and i do it myself! but it is very confusing to me when someone refuses to say even that. also: one sided conversations! it is difficult for me to engage with someone if i am not really getting much back! i try not to make assumptions but i will worry i've done something to upset them or make them uncomfortable, or perhaps i am just being "too much" and i need to back off.

[lawlibrary]

647. (disorderly conduct, stalking, harassment, qos "blackballers"

(4) (A) A person who intentionally distributes the image of the intimate body part or parts of another identifiable person, or an image of the person depicted engaged in an act of sexual intercourse, sodomy, oral copulation, sexual penetration, or an image of masturbation by the person depicted or in which the person depicted participates, under circumstances in which the persons agree or understand that the image shall remain private, the person distributing the image knows or should know that distribution of the image will cause serious emotional distress, and the person depicted suffers that distress.

(B) A person intentionally distributes an image described in subparagraph (A) when that person personally distributes the image, or arranges, specifically requests, or intentionally causes another person to distribute that image

(j) (1) A person who looks through a hole or opening, into, or otherwise views, by means of any instrumentality, including, but not limited to, a periscope, telescope, binoculars, camera, motion picture camera, camcorder, mobile phone, electronic device, or unmanned aircraft system, the interior of a bedroom, bathroom, changing room, fitting room, dressing room, or tanning booth, or the interior of any other area in which the occupant has a reasonable expectation of privacy, with the intent to invade the privacy of a person or persons inside. This subdivision does not apply to those areas of a private business used to count currency or other negotiable instruments.

[swan-of-sunrise]

"A Spellbinding Wedding" Sneak Peek

I'm working on a couple of other things right now so I'm not sure when this'll be out but in the meantime, here's a little sneak peek from the wedding one-shot of Loki and the Cosmic Sorceress for ya'll! 💖

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

A Spellbinding Wedding October 8th, 2016 Stark Mansion New York City, New York

“So, (Y/L/N), in just a few short hours you’re gonna be officially – pause for dramatic effect – off the market! Can you tell us what exactly’s going through the beautiful bride’s head right now?”

(Y/N) paused her mascara application and pretended to ponder Clint’s overly-exaggerated question. “Whether or not it would be rude of me to drop that camcorder through a portal to Muspelheim and lock you in the basement until after the ceremony.”

The archer snickered before jumping up to sit on the dresser behind her and turning the camcorder around to directly address the camera. “As you can see, your mom gets a little cranky when she has to wake up early. Not sure if that’ll go away in the future or just get worse, so…either way, good luck with that, kiddos!”

“When you volunteered to film the ceremony and parts of the reception for us, I really should’ve questioned it more.” (Y/N) resumed applying her mascara while fighting back a smile. “At least any future children of ours will watch this, see just how ridiculous their Uncle Clint is and know that we weren’t exaggerating. Oh! Speaking of children, are Peter’s friends here yet?”

“Yeah, they’re all hanging out in the old lab downstairs and Tony’s helping them prep their sound equipment; you and Loki do know that there’s literally thousands of professional DJ’s you could’ve hired to run your wedding reception that aren’t sixteen and can actually drive themselves to their venues, right?”

“Says the friend of ours who practically begged to be the videographer even though he’s a professional archer…” She mumbled under her breath, twisting the mascara wand back into its tube just as someone knocked on her suite’s door. “Come in!”

The door opened and Natasha popped her head into the room, her long red hair still wrapped in curlers, a clipboard in her hands and a comm link secured in her ear. The spy was taking her many duties as Matron of Honor very seriously, treating the day’s celebration as if it were a highly-classified mission and not a fairly subdued wedding located at Tony’s family mansion; each of their teammates had been assigned specific duties and responsibilities and throughout the morning, Natasha checked in with them to ensure that their tasks were going smoothly, which explained why she was shooting Clint the trademark glare she normally reserved for Hydra agents. “Last I checked, Barton, you’re supposed to be overseeing the florists in the garden and not raising the bride’s blood pressure right before the wedding.”

Clint jumped down from the dresser and raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, no need to go all Black Widow on me, Tasha.” He crossed the room and pressed a chaste kiss onto (Y/N)’s cheek before winking at her through the vanity’s mirror. “I’ll see you later, (Y/L/N)!”

Natasha gave the archer one final glare as he hurried out of the suite while whistling ‘Chapel of Love’ and shook her head when the door closed behind him. “I swear, I’m gonna have to start using my Widow Bites on these people if they don’t start being more helpful…” The spy turned her attention to (Y/N) and her concentrated frown morphed into a smile. “(Y/N), you look stunning and you haven’t even put on your dress yet! I’m serious, it’s like you’re glowing or-” She cut herself off and held a hand up to her ear to listen to a voice in her comm. “Bruce says that the caterers just arrived. Did you want me to get you anything before I check in on them?”

“Is it too early in the day for a glass of champagne?”

“Not if there’s a splash of orange juice in it,” Natasha answered with a mischievous grin.

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

So yeah, that's pretty much it! Are you guys looking forward to a magical and mischievous wedding? Let me know and don't forget to give the series masterlist and my main masterlist a like/reblog. I always update it after posting a new work! (And I wish @mostclevermiss and anyone else taking their finals this week lots of luck, I believe in you!)

Spellbinding Masterlist

Fanfiction Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie99 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @a-laufeyson @outoftheregular @itscomplicatedx @0-artemis @vivloki @crowleysqueenofhell @groovy-lady @mostclevermiss

#spellbinding #loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #clint barton #hawkeye #natasha romanoff #black widow #tony stark #iron man #marvel cinematic universe

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

Jinx Dies At The End

by SunsetSharkbite

A video cassette found in a camcorder bought at a local thrift shop.

>> PLAY

Words: 3678, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Caitlyn (League of Legends), Vi (League of Legends), Ekko (League of Legends), Jinx (League of Legends)

Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)

Additional Tags: No character deaths just a quirky title, Mild Horror, Creepy, Found Footage, ambiguous ending, halloween fic

from AO3 works tagged 'Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)'

#ao3feed-piltovers-finest #a03feed-piltovers-finest #caitvi #arcane (league of legends) fanfiction