#i am being buried in my own simpness for women | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rere-the-writer · 3 years

Note

Can I request a fic where Elijah Mikaelson is in love with a human!Reader who isn't his usual type of woman. Reader is always getting in trouble and Elijah is trying to save

I love Elijah trying to save the women he love fics. Simping time baby.

Warnings: Fluff, A bit of angst, Elijah being a bit possessive, Hayley being a bitch, A bit of smut

You had been on your own since you were sixteen and taking care of yourself that was until you met Elijah Mikaelson one night at Rousseau's when he scared off one of your clients that followed you to the bar after you got off work. You shared a few drinks with Elijah sharing that fact you were a stripper and for once you weren't judged for it.

Since that night Elijah was became apart of your everyday life always looking out for you. At first it was sweet and you found him to be a gentleman but now you were annoyed.

"Long night?" Camille asked pouring you a glass of your favorite whiskey as you groaned.

"It would be if I could work Cami." You said downing your whiskey and Camille poured you another glass. Elijah had started to show up at your work paying for your whole shift which was a lot of money. Normally you wouldn't have a problem with it as many businessmen would pay for a stripper's whole shift but the other girls were starting to get jealous and your normal clients were scared off by Elijah.

"Elijah being a hand full?"

"Yes! I get at first he was being a gentleman but now he is getting on my nerves." You growled as you felt a hand on your back and you looked seeing it was Elijah.

"Thanks Cams but I am calling it a night." You said huffing annoyed paying for your drinks walking out and Elijah followed after you.

"Well you fu...." You were cut off by a every brave vampire had grabbed you and was about to bite you. Elijah was quick to kill the vampire then caught you when you tripped over yourself.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." You tell Elijah pushing him away making him smirk. Elijah knew you were annoyed with him and angry with him following you everywhere. But Elijah couldn't help himself for being drawn to you.

"Why do you deny that you are mine?"

"What?! I don't belong to no one!" You growled glaring at Elijah as he couldn't help but find you just gorgeous with the fiery anger in your eyes.

"But you are. When you let me feed from you." Elijah tells you as you glared harder remembering that night you found him hurt nearly bleeding out by your apartment building. You brought him into your apartment cleaning him up and letting him drink from you unaware that you became his.

"You can't hold that against me!" You yell at Elijah then a squeak came from you when Elijah was suddenly in front of you. Elijah put an arm around you gripping your chin kissing you pulling a mewl from you letting him deepen the kiss.

"I am not holding it against you. It is true, you belong to me and if it was up to me you wouldn't have to work again."

You were flushed heart racing as you looked at Elijah shivering as he cupped your cheek rubbing it with his thumb. You knew Elijah well enough now to know he wasn't a man to let go of something. So you swallowed deciding to give into Elijah completely, you gently tugged him down brushing your lips lightly against his.

"Then take what is yours." You whispered looking up at Elijah seeing a dark glit in his eyes. Suddenly you were pressed up against a bedroom wall as Elijah kissed you roughly. Moans and growls filled the room as you both tore at one another's clothing.

You choked out a moan arching when Elijah had set a rough brutal pace once one the bed. Elijah wasn't going easy on you as if you had broke whatever self control he had.

"Elijah.." You panted out cupping his face kissing him hungrily feeling him grabbing your legs moving higher placing one leg over his shoulder the other in the crook of his arm. Elijah leaned back looking down at you seeing your hair damp by sweat face flushed gripping his sheets tightly.

"You take me so well. Is my baby going to cum again?" Elijah asked watching you throw your head back mouth hanging open shaking when he began to rub your clit.

"I.....I..I can't." You tell him turning your head burying your face in the sheets as Elijah smirked leaning down not letting up one bit.

"Come on baby. Just one more." Elijah says latching onto your neck as you shook and whined under him. You felt the air leave you arching off the bed clinging to Elijah biting down hard on his shoulder as you cummed hard with Elijah growling lowly following after.

You fell back against the bed feeling weak as you panted Elijah smiled brushing the hair from your face as the bite mark you left was healing. Elijah gently kissed you then peppered you neck with kisses.

"If....I knew...this was what...I get for giving in....I would have done it months ago." You panted as Elijah chuckled getting up and gently began to clean you up.

"Any lesser man wouldn't have cared as much as I did." Elijah said pulling you into his arms smiling as you kissed his chest.

"Next time....I'll show you my talented mouth." You tell him trying to leave marks on his neck. Elijah laughed pulling you closer kissing you gently.

"I look forward to it baby." Elijah said rubbing your bare back kissing the crown of your head. You woke before Elijah and carefully got out of bed stealing one of his botton ups then grabbed your panties glad he didn't torn them.

"You must be the stripper." You heard someone say as you had gone down to get a snack and water. You looked up seeing it was Hayley, you knew who she was as Elijah told you about her when you indulge him with a private dance.

"I'm......"

"Look I don't care. We both know what you are. A gold digger. Let me guess you let Elijah pay for a few dances, then manipulated Elijah into bed to use him."

You swallowed hiding the pain of what Hayley said and normally you could take it as you were use to wives coming to yell at you. But this hit harder for some reason and you didn't know why. You looked at Hayley.

"No...that's not...what I'm."

"Really? Elijah had spent a lot of money on you and now you are sleeping with him. I think we both know that is a lie. Elijah needs someone better that isn't some lonely stripper." Hayley said as you stood up leaving the kitchen as Hayley stood there arms crossed.

You were on autopilot putting your pants on grabbing your shirt not changing out Elijah's and grabbed your purse looking at a sleeping Elijah. You decided to not leave a note and left the compound not seeing that Hayley was watching.

"Are you sure?" Your boss asked frowning handing your last check to you. You had told your boss that you were quitting and thank her for taking such good care of you.

"Y...y...yeah I just...need something new." You said normally a strong woman but Elijah had soften you. As you used to now being taken care of, able to feel safe for once but what Hayley said hit too close.

"Okay suga but know you are always welcome back. You're family." Your ex boss said hugging you and you hugged back. You said goodbye to the bartender, Andy, and bouncer Daniel both were like big brothers you never had. Once you got your boxes in your car you left New Orleans.

It hurt to leave but you knew you could run into Elijah a little too easy and you knew you'll crawl back to the vampire. You drove until you reached New York finding a tiny apartment and settled down there.

"Where could she have gone?" Elijah growled as Freya was doing a locater spell which was being proven difficult. It only took Elijah an hour to noticed you had left not only his side but the city.

"What is going on?" Hayley asked seeing an angry Elijah and smirking Klaus as Freya was trying to locate something.

"Elijah's little dancer had ran away."

"Oh? I didn't know you were dating." Hayley said thinking she kinda knew who Klaus was about but she wasn't too sure.

"Little wolf they weren't dating. More like the girl belongs to Elijah. But for some reason she left." Klaus said smirking devilishly making Hayley nervous thinking Klaus may know something.

"Belonging to him?"

"I saved her from a client that was too pushy. We talked shared a drink then a month later I was wounded bleeding out in front of her building. She cleaned me up and allowed me to feed from her."

"Since then she is the only one he feeds from unless it is a blood bag." Klaus said surprising Hayley as she looked at Elijah.

"Is that a normal vampire thing?"

"Yes and last night I finally got her to fully give herself to me. But someone has sow seeds of lies in her so once I bring her home. I will find who drove her from me."

Elijah's tone was dark and Klaus stood seeing the red door opening. While Klaus knew what you meant to Elijah, he didn't think you were red door opening worthy.

"I am sure whoever's responsible brother, didn't know how much Y/N meant to you." Klaus said slowly as Hayley looked at Klaus shocked. Now Klaus over heard that morning now he was planning to tease Hayley but now knowing Elijah's red door was opening. It was different.

"Do you know something Niklaus?" Elijah asked calmly too calm as Klaus knew he could take Elijah, Klaus knew Hayley wouldn't have a chance. And before Klaus could say a word he was glad Freya interrupted.

"She is in New York." Once those words left Freya, Elijah was gone. Klaus looked to Hayley.

"Pray Elijah, gets her back Hayley as there is so much I can do to calm Elijah." Klaus said as Hayley let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

You had just gotten off work feeling sore as the new place you danced at was more demanding but the tips were bigger. You locked your apartment door dropping your bag and keys on the hall table and kicking off heels.

"I would have gotten you a bigger place." You nearly screamed when you saw Elijah sitting in your chair.

"Elijah wh...." You were cut off by Elijah giving you a heated kiss lifting you up by your thighs. You couldn't help but moan into the kiss as Elijah growled deeply taking you over to the chair he was sitting in.

"Now baby. Why did you leave and don't lie." Elijah said pulling you closer as you swallowed seeing the dark glit in his eye the same one he had before fucking you silly.

"I ran into Hayley and well......" You trailed off insecurities you had long forgotten came flooding back as you realized the reason it hurt was because you were in love with Elijah.

"Baby, what happened?" Elijah asked gently wiping the tears at fell from your eyes. You took a shakey breath looking at Elijah seeing his eyes soften.

"Hayley called me a gold digger, telling me that I used you and told me you need.......someone that wasn't a lonely stripper."

Elijah felt a flare of anger for what Hayley had done but focused on you placing soft kisses on your skin reaching up behind you unzipping your dress.

"If anyone needs better baby. It is you, remember I chased you. You could never use me as you are too good for that." Elijah says undressing you slowly until you were in only lingerie.

"But...." You were silenced by a kiss as Elijah held the back of your head gently tugging on your hair. You moaned softly rolling your hips but Elijah stopped you with his other hand.

"I need to punish you for leaving and coming to me about this problem."

"Before you can I just say I love you Elijah." You tell him flushing as arousal flooded your veins seeing the dark look Elijah gave you.

"I love you too baby." Elijah says softly picking you up as he stood up taking you to your bedroom. Indeed Elijah's punishment was one you wouldn't forget as he took you to a place that you didn't know could be reached.

You panted laying on Elijah as he traced random patterns on your bare back as you both whispered I love yous. You both knew you weren't going to let the other go any time soon.

#rere's stories #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson fluff

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roscgcld · 3 years

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ZEN’IN NAOYA || husband’s duty

request: omg if it is okay can i ask for a part 2 of sweet little things 🥲

note: you definitely can, love! honestly this definitely cracked my head a little since we didn’t get to explore naoya too much as a character, underneath all that complexity that makes him up as the man we saw in the manga. But I am not gonna sit here and say I do not simp for him AHAHAHA - that would be a huge lie. But we shall see, no? I feel like I made him too soft though, but I live for soft!Naoya - so do not touch me T^T

part one

warning: suggestive scene throughout, but nothing happens really. just naoya being an ass lol

pronouns: she/her

A content sigh left Naoya’s lips as he leans back into the warm water of the bath, his eyes slowly sliding shut at the warmth that surrounds him. Today has been a long day on the office - with back to back meetings and piles of paperwork on his desk, he was just ready to land into his bed face first and sleep the evening away.

“What do you want for your onigiri filling tomorrow? The farmers that produce that special rice you like sent a bag of rice to us earlier today.”

Your soft and sweet voice was what broke him out of his tranquil trance, yet he doesn’t find himself getting angry. Instead he hummed as he leans towards the direction of your voice, seeming to melt further in the steaming water when your soft hands immediately rest themselves against his broad shoulders. Fingers immediately getting to work on the knots that had started to build up since the afternoon. “Hmm...unagi filling sounds good.”

“I’ll make some for your bento tomorrow then,” You reassured him with a warm smile as you started to work through the knots on his shoulders, making sure to not accidentally dig your short but well kept nails into his skin. Whilst Naoya enjoys leaving marks of ownership all over your person, he does not appreciate having any scars left on his skin. And although he does not voice his disapproval, you know your husband well enough to know that unless he is in the mood, you should be careful about things like your nails scratching his skin.

The idea of you making one of his favourite dishes for him, knowing that he has to deal with more paperwork and calls tomorrow has him smiling softly in response. He would not voice out how your little actions causes his usually cold heart to skip a beat; instead he just leans back a little when he heard you collecting some water from the tub with the wooden shower pale. Relishing in the feeling of the water being poured over his two-toned hair, along with your soft fingers gently running through the strands.

Many people feel bad for you, since everyone knows what kind of man Naoya is. Everyone knows that he is nothing more but a skirt chaser, a man who views women as nothing an accessory to hang off his arm. Whose purpose is to provide strong heirs, and nothing more. You knew of the man even before you met him the first time on your family estate - listening to your older sister rant about how much of a myogenetic, rude, and disgusting excuse of a man Zen’In Naoya is. You’ve heard of the whispers from the other women whenever you would join a jujutsu event where the Zen’Ins would be in attendance. You knew that the moment both your fathers shook hands after Naoya shows great interest in you, your future was sealed to be with a man who seems to be every woman’s living nightmare.

And yet, for the last 4 months of marriage life, things have been...pleasant.

Naoya knew from the moment that he spoke to you that he needed to act ‘softer’ in order to gain your trust. That he cannot be his full self around you for at least the first month of your marriage in order to make him trust you; or until his patience runs thin from acting.

However, even though he has promised himself that he will drop the act after the first month; here he is, 4 months into your new marriage. Still finding it almost natural for him to act softer and more...kinder around you. Maybe it is because he finds your personality just so soft and welcoming that it just...felt right to treat you differently. Maybe he is just trying to reason to himself that as his wife, you should be treated differently from the common folk outside of your private home; after all, as long as he keeps you happy, he can get away with pretty much anything.

And yet...he has yet to find it in him to actually act like his usual self around you. Almost as if he was afraid of scaring you, or fearing that you’re scared of him. It’s laughable - how a man who was so self centered and only cared about himself and no one else, seemed to be so worried about what his wife thinks about him. He had reasoned to him that this is normal; that any husband would want their wife to fear them.

But just...it was odd to him. How he chooses to act differently around you, and not feel like he is forced in any way.

His opened his eyes to take a peak at you when his thoughts start to wonder, scanning over your concentrated features as you carefully worked the shampoo through his hair. Somehow just seeing you so focused on making sure that he was enjoying his bath had his heart skipping a beat; something that would have scared him if it were to happen with anyone else.

Yet, instead he found himself letting a small but genuine smile tug against the corners of his lips, one that immediately catches your attention as you carefully wash the studs from his hair. “What got you so happy, my love?,” You asked him curiously as you carefully ran your fingers through his hair, making sure that all the studs were gone. Instead of answering he just reached his hand up to grab your wrist in his gently, pressing a soft kiss against the inside of your wrist.

Naoya isn’t a man to convey his emotions often. He doesn’t necessarily view emotions as weak; he just sees no reason to show others around him how he feels unless it brings him some form of advantage. Other then that, he just puts up an arrogant and unbothered front for the most part. But with you...well, you were different. You are his wife, and in order to be a good husband, he needs to show you that he is willing to show you what is underneath his mask. Or so, he thinks that is what he needs to do.

The feeling of Naoya’s lips against your skin send a set of shivers down your spine, your eyes shyly glancing away from his handsome face as you felt the tips of your ears warm up. Just seeing how bashful you were about something as small as showing you emotion had him smirking against your wrist, immediately wanting to see just how far he can push his luck.

And he knows exactly what to do. “Get in the bath with me.”

You immediately snapped your shocked eyes back at your husband in shock, immediately feeling your cheeks warm at how he was staring at you expectantly. Although you’ve seen each other naked before, with him being so obsessed of having an heir of his own - it would be a surprise if you haven’t see him naked in all his glory. It wasn’t like he was bad to look at either - from all the training puts himself through to perfect his Technique, you would be lying to say that you’ve never stared at his strong back or broad shoulders whenever you two are alone.

It was just...so sudden. And you immediately knew what his intensions were, yet you just pouted softly as you quietly pulled yourself up from the steps you were seated on. Just seeing the soft pout tugging against the corner of your lips had Naoya biting back a smile as he watches you strip from your kimono, carefully folding the expensive fabrics to the side.

Soon you carefully made your way up the wooden steps of the traditional bathtub, thanking your husband quietly as he held a hand out to help you into the tub. You awkwardly knelt down between Naoya’s knees, still a little nervous to touch him even though he was the one who invited you into the bath with him. Naoya found your fear quite amusing, and without missing a beat he grabbed your hand in his before he pulls you close; chuckling at the squeak you let out when you landed against his bare chest.

“Don’t need to be so scared, my wife,” Naoya mumbles with a smirk, hands trailing down your soft back to relish the goosebumps that appear on your skin; his eyes glancing away from your shocked face to your fists resting against his chest. “After all...if there is one person worthy enough to be by my side, it will be you,” He mumbles, hands that seem even warmer than the water surrounding you two resting on the small of your back.

A combination from his soft touches, to his overly sweet but frank words had your face burning up once more as you whine and bury your face into his neck, your actions causing Naoya to let out a soft but genuine peel of laughter come from his chest. “Did I startle you?,” Naoya asks in amusement, already knowing the answer to that question. Yet he wanted for you to answer the question yourself, since he lives for seeing you getting embarrassed over the smallest of interactions with him.

You fluttered your eyes close to try and calm you rapid heartbeat, yet you nodded your head gently to answer his question. “A-A little..,” You mumble back quietly against his skin, heart skipping a beat a little at Naoya’s soft chuckle that he breathed against the shell of your ear. Naoya did not want to admit it, but he finds this subconsciously clingy side of you quite endearing. Whilst he hates it when others touch him, even if they grazed him by accident; he does not mind it when it’s you.

Maybe he has gone a little insane after marriage.

After you’ve managed to gather your wits, you quietly pulled away from him before you reached back to grab the wash towel you had grabbed from earlier, Naoya curiously opened one of hi eyes when you shifted against his chest. Just having you pressed up against his chest, along with the warm water surrounding him had lulled him into a tranquil and sleepy state. But he didn’t stop you as you wet the wash towel before you carefully lathered his body wash into the fabric.

Quietly you started to wash his body like you would usually every night, yet this time it was a little different since now you were in the bath with him. Something that he has never really allowed before, since he views his bath time as his personal time. You would usually help him bathe before you leave the bathroom to prepare for bed and whatever wifely duties you need to fulfil for the night.

But if you were being honest, as you carefully washed your husband clean, you did not mind a change to your routine. Yet you did not voice your inner thoughts as you continue gliding your hands over Naoya’s arms, making sure to keep quiet to give him the silence he enjoys whenever he’s in the bath. However, Naoya was in the mood to talk today.

Whilst you were carefully washing his chest, Naoya’s hands started to wander along your body once more once more. “So, what did you get up today whilst your husband was out at work?”

You blinked up at your husband curiously, to which he just raised an eyebrow in response at the look you threw his way. “Can a husband not know what his wife gets up to when he slaves away at his desk?,” Naoya asks with a soft raise of his brow, his words causing you to widen your eyes as you shake your head immediately. Not wanting him to think that you’re questioning his authority. “O-Of course not! I-I just...thought...you’d like some quiet in your alone time..”

A soft sigh was your only response, to which you awkwardly looked away from your husband’s eyes to stare at his hard chest; worried that you’ve angered the man. “You know...I want to hear about your day too,” Naoya mumbles after a few tensed seconds of silence, a finger gently crocking under your chin to coax your eyes to look up at him. He did not have a smile on his serious face, yet there was a soft look shining in his usually hard eyes. “I get curious sometimes when I have time to breath...what does my beautiful wife do at home when I am away? Does she miss me? Does she take the free time she gets to pretend that she is not my wife? What could you be possibly be doing when I am away from home..?”

When you heard his words, you tilted your head softly as you scanned his face, trying to understand the meaning behind his message. He wasn’t dumb - he was more than aware of the whispers of the maids that thought he was not around, how people feel bad for you that you are married to a man like him. He honestly doesn’t care what others have to say about him - he never cared about what others have to say about him. Because he knows that when they need power or need something to get done, they will always turn to him with fake smiles and praise dripping from their tongues.

However, he was genuinely worried about you - he was worried that the whispers of his past will start to scare you away. Make you think that you are an idiot for marrying a man like him, and slowly but surely take you away from him. For once he was worried that you are going to leave him, because for once in his life, he finally understand what it truly means to be home. The very thought of you leaving him shakes him down to his very core, and he will do everything in his power to prevent that from becoming his reality.

“I don’t...think like that, you know.”

Your soft voice snapped his train of thought as he glances back into your eyes, blinking when your soft hands rest against his cheeks gently with a soft smile gracing your features. “I knew the type of man you were before you came to my family estate that day, and I have heard of all the rumours of your attitude even whilst you were courting me. But that didn’t change my decision because I genuinely enjoyed having you around.”

Your words had Naoya widening his eyes as his mind went blank at your confession. And seeing your usually stoic and arrogant husband looking stunned had you giggling as your thumbs started to stroke at his high cheekbones. “Yes, you may be a little colder and stricter then I am used to, but you are still a good man. You’ve been nothing but a good husband to me, and far from the rumours paint you to be. So don’t worry too much about my thoughts on our marriage, because I am nothing but happy to be your wife.”

Quietly you gently tugged his face close, resting his forehead against yours with a smile. “I know that you grew up in a different world from I did, and that you were brought up with different morals from mine. But I also know you’re trying for me, and that is more than enough for me at the end of the day.” You mumble softly, revealing to him that you were more observant than you let on. Yet you faked ignorance for his sake because you genuinely cared for him as a person. “Because at the end of the day, a wife is knows all of her husband’s sides the best.”

For once Naoya was completely stunned into silence, having never expected for you to be so candid about your feelings. Your response to his stunned silence was a quiet giggle as you lean forward to press a soft kiss against the tip of his nose. The feeling of your warm and soft lips snapped him back into reality, and upon realising how close you were, his pale cheeks flushed up from embarrassment. Immediately one of his hands pulled itself away from where they were resting against your bare hips to cover his cheeks with the back of his hand, eyes darting away as he leans away from you immediately.

“I-I want to get out of the bath now...”

You let out a giggle at the sight of your husband so out of character, yet you made no other comment as you nodded with a smile. “Lets get ready for bed then, my love,” You hummed out as you carefully got out to grab the towels for the both of you, biting back your smile at how cute you find him to be as you dried yourself before you did the same for him.

It was only later into the night, long after you’ve fallen asleep when Naoya really calmed down. You had long fallen asleep, face tucked away underneath his chin whilst your arms wrapped around him loosely. He knows he needed to sleep in order to function properly tomorrow, but his mind has been racing the moment you two got out of the bath to prepare for bed together.

He still cannot wrap his head around the idea that you willingly stay, even knowing that there is a chance you might see a less ideal version of himself. You choose to stay knowing all of the rumours about him and his, admittedly, horrendous behaviour and morals. And whilst he does not know what was it that he did that had you landing in his life, he is 100% sure he will never let you go.

Quietly he presses a soft kiss against the top of your head, a soft but content sigh leaving his lips as he closes his eyes to try and get some sleep before his alarm would go off later. Signaling to a start of another long and boring day away from you once more.

“You’re the best thing that has happened to me,” He mumbles softly into the quiet bedroom, a soft admission to you whilst you’re far away in dreamland, dreaming of things unknown to him. But the least he can pray for is that he wouldn’t become the enemy in your nightmares.

Because at the end of the day, it’s a husband’s duty to protect the happiness of their wife from the evils of the world. Even if the biggest evil in their lives is themselves. As long as he is your husband, you will have nothing to fear.

He will make sure of it.

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vislorrturlough · 3 years

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Scaramouche!

"Of course, this assumption of responsibility does not mean that we are not conditioned genetically, culturally, and socially. It means that we know ourselves to be conditioned but not determined. It means recognizing that History is time filled with possibility and not inexorably determined-that the future is problematic and not already decided, fatalistically."

- Paulo Friere

For as long as Loki can remember, tapestries have lined the walls of Asgard's palace.

When Loki was a child, the Allmother sat by his bed one night and explained the significance of the tapestries that lined the walls of their home.

“The Norns weave the tapestry that assigns our roles,” she told him. “So that we may fulfill our fate and serve Midgard as we are meant to.”

The tapestries stretched across all the walls of the palace, covering vast miles of golden wall with breathtaking imagery depicting life and death and love and hate and everything in between. They pictured Loki too, who moved from boy to tragedy to a vicious and cruel man.

“So I have a role too? And Thor?” he asked. She smiled at him with fondness. The Thor on the tapestries seemed brave and strong - Loki could never imagine his brother, still a boy himself, to become that hulk of a man someday.

“Of course, Loki,” she said. “We all have roles. I am a mother, and a magician. Thor will be a great hero. Your father, a beloved and wise king. This is what is sewn into our destiny, to be enacted until Ragnarok and again after that. In a cycle, unending and unwavering.”

He yawned, obscuring the nervousness bubbling in his chest and curling the silken covers around his shoulders. He knew what the tapestries said Loki would do. He had hoped that maybe - “What’s my fate, mother?” he asked quietly.

Her smile, previously relaxed, became firm and serious. His heart was racing, thinking of that man, and of the awful cruelty that was depicted to come at his hands. “We all have a part to play, my dear. And every story has a villain for a reason.”

Despite common misconception, Loki Laufeyson never lived in the moment. In fact, Loki found the moment particularly difficult to pin down. Once you begin to think “Hey, I think this is the moment!” it wasn’t the moment anymore, and Loki already had four tabs open on his phone about the relativity of time and he didn’t need anymore.

Loki lived in the future, which was why he was that very moment getting his fair share of serotonin from the Schrödinger’s Night Out with Sigurd and Lorelei he was planning.

“Sigurd definitely won’t come out if Lorelei isn’t,” he explained to Verity as he paced hurriedly around their absurdly fancy flat, which he paid for entirely and in return, Verity didn’t ask where he got all the money. “Which means I need Lorelei to agree first. One problem with that!”

“Lorelei hates you?” Verity asked, as she planted an orange tree in Stardew Valley.

“Lorelei hates me!” Loki agreed. “Which means I need to sweeten the pot.”

Verity glanced up at him suspiciously. “How are you going to do that?”

He grinned, and picked up a pen so he could start dramatically gesticulating. “Bisexual women! They’re always fascinated with me. And by the end of the evening, I’ll have established a system where I transport their attention from me to Lorelei and get her many dates. Like a Ford factory.”

She glared, turned back to her game. “You’re a walking hate crime.”

“Was that a lie, Verity?” he teased, collapsing on the couch and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She tried just barely to shrug him off. “Was it a lie when I said bi women are fascinated with me? Was it?”

Verity narrowed her eyes at him, but didn’t say anything, and in response he burst into cackles of laughter.

—

Lorelei claimed to be very insulted that Loki thought bisexual women liked him more than her, but he knew well that she knew well that she looked like the straightest girl alive and really, that was her own fault. Once Lorelei was a confirmed booking, Sigurd swiftly followed, because he’s nothing if not a simp, and thus Loki had now established the perfect evening. A pricey club, two people who could barely stand him, and himself.

Although he never really enjoyed it. He’d never planned to.

Anticipation was a drug, really. And as previously established, the moment was very boring indeed. And this moment, Loki found himself crammed against Sigurd, who while very attractive and an owner of some very firm abs, was covered in sweat, and only slept with Loki when he was desperate anyway. Loki squinted up at him, and tried to figure out if he was desperate tonight.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Sigurd shouted over the music.

Loki smiled at him genially, and proceeded to turn quickly around and elbow his way to the smoking area.

The initial smack of fresh onto his face was divine. He closed his eyes and smiled in satisfaction, continuing to move forward. The music was more muted out here, and the sound of voices and laughter blurred into itself until nothing was anything anymore. Peace! The lights were all different shades of pink and green, and they cast an ethereal glow over the throngs of young people with cigarettes in their hands, all here, all living now.

Loki bumped into someone.

“Shit!” he yelped, watching in horror as her cocktail spilt down her crop top. “I’m so sorry! Oh my God!”

She’d flinched a bit during the incident itself, but the alcohol had seemingly tempered any stronger reaction than that. Lightly brushing at her (now soaked) top, she only laughed lightly and smiled at him. “No worries, dude!”

He pulled out his best prince charming grin (practiced in the mirror and finely tuned). “Please, let me at least buy you another drink.”

“I’m not going to say no to a drink!” she laughed shyly, and they traipsed inside to the bar. Sigurd seemed to have vanished, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Lorelei getting very close to the DJ, so maybe if Loki had any luck he was crying in the gents or something. Usual affair, really.

He bought them both mojitos, and they fought their way back through the crowd to return to the smoking area. “I like your necklace,” he said, because his mother had always said women liked having their jewelry complimented. Sif had later said that they didn’t, but Sif was as much a woman as Loki was a man, so her opinion didn’t count.

The girl giggled. “Thanks, it’s a crucifix.”

“Oh sorry!” Loki said. “I’m not from around here. That’s the catholic thing right?”

“Do you guys not have catholicism in Britain?”

Ugh, mentioning Asgard would dance a bit too close to the possibility of ‘Oh man, anyone ever told you you look like Thor’s evil brother?’. Loki chuckled instead and rolled his eyes. “I was pretty sheltered. It was like, a weird cult?”

“Oh wow! That’s so interesting.” She had a sympathetic sort of look on her face, and Loki quickly buried the irritation that bubbled up in his chest. The sympathy wasn’t for Loki anyway, just some fake man who grew up in a cult. Did he think Asgard was a cult? God, he was glad he didn’t have a therapist

“Yeah, I don’t really believe in it now, you know?” he lied easily, smiling at her. “It’s hard to have faith when it’s like, you never see any proof.”

She nodded understandingly. “Yeah, lots of people say that nowadays, what with superheroes and Asgard and all. I don’t know, I kind of think the fact I don’t have proof makes it more important.”

“Oh yes?” Loki asked. “What do you mean by that?”

She looked up at the lights, placed her free hand on the crook of the elbow of the hand holding her drink. For a second, Loki saw ancient and revered philosophers! He decided that they’d had it all wrong. Screw the forums, they should’ve done all their philosophising in smoking areas.

“It means something, you know?” she explained slowly. “Like, of course we believe in the ground and the sky and all. Those are right in front of us, we can’t deny that. Same with science, or aliens, or Asgardians. But believing in God requires a certain kind of faith. I’m going beyond seeing and believing. I’m just believing. God has a plan for me, and I believe in that.”

Loki nodded slowly. A fate? One set, but controlled by a benevolent creature and entirely unknown? It wasn’t true or real of course, but there was a beauty to it, that Loki, who’s path was clear and determined, appreciated. The alcohol (he and Lorelei made a habit of spiking drinks they bought on earth with Asgardian liqueur, so they’d, you know, work) was beginning to blur his awareness anyway. “That’s beautiful,” he said kindly.

She giggled, quickly touching her necklace and looking at the ground. “Haha, sorry! I study theology, it’s kind of a thing.”

“No, no!” Loki laughed, giving her a wide grin. “It was very interesting! Where do you study?”

They got into a long conversation about Sarah’s (her name, Loki found out eventually) degree, NYU dorms and a guy she hated in her seminars, before he noticed Lorelei making a beeline towards him, her hand around Sigurd’s wrist.

“Hey,” she said, before frowning at him and glancing at Sarah. “I’m going home with a girl named Angelica. She’s goth and plays bass. So you need to take Sig home.”

“I’m literally an ancient hero. Of legend,” Sigurd interjected.

Lorelei turned and glared at him instead. “Well, you need to take Loki home.”

“Oh well, come on then Sig!” Loki said loudly, ignoring his scowl. “Thank you for such a lovely conversation, Sarah darling. Have a nice night!”

“Thanks Luke!” she laughed, not being not obvious about checking Sigurd out. Oh God, she probably thought he was dating Loki. Yuck, how mortifying. “See you around!”

“Go get a taxi,” Lorelei told him, before wandering off to a girl with a septum piercing and docs, which Loki considered quite basic, especially for Lorelei.

They didn’t get a taxi. They walked five minutes until Loki ducked around a corner, ignored Sigurd saying “Aren’t we getting a taxi?” and grabbed his arm before dragging him through the spaces in between the universe and dropping him on the bean bag in his living room. A solitary pringles can rolled quietly and hit Loki’s foot.

“Ugh, you’re disgusting,” Loki muttered, kicking it away.

“I hate you,” Sigurd growled, pinching his nose and clearly trying not to throw up. Loki didn’t know why, it wouldn’t be any major downgrade from how the room was currently. “And I hate that. You’re such a fucking prick Loki.”

Time to make his exit before Sigurd regained enough strength to cause him bodily harm. “Bye honey!” he trilled, and Sigurd’s growl was cut off as he made his way to his own apartment. He didn’t wake up Verity, she had work tomorrow, so he just kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed, surrendering to unconsciousness.

Verity and Loki had moved in together for two reasons.

1) Loki spent most of his time at Verity’s. He had a separate shelf in her fridge for his energy drinks and his salsa, and a special place at the bottom of her spice cupboard for his snacks. He told Verity she had full ownership over all the snacks and could have them when he’d left, but she never did. Instead she got the little clip things she used and pinched the bags closed carefully, putting them to the side for the next time he came over. It was thoughtful, and Loki didn’t know what to do with it, so he never mentioned it. He got bored quite easily anyway, and most of his ‘friends’ had a very limited tolerance of him, so most days he found himself on Verity’s couch, playing Uno and eating Oreos.

2) Verity’s flat was bad and small and Loki’s was perfect and expensive, and if he spent all his time with Verity, they may as well hang out in his sketchily acquired penthouse. Plus, paying her rent made him feel useful. It was like a payment for all the little clips on his packets of Doritos.

He didn’t regret it. Except he thought that perhaps he might be as close as he could get to regretting it as he lay in bed listening to her pounding viciously at his door.

“Are you alive?” she yelled through the mahogany. He groaned just loudly enough to be heard, and she banged one more time for good measure before her footsteps quickly petered off towards the kitchen.

He sighed in frustration, rolling off his bed with just enough basic athletic ability to land on his feet. His vision blacked out for just a second, and his head very much rejected the idea of being on his feet. Had he shifted through space while drunk? That was so dangerous. He should have gotten like, a driving ticket. A magic driving ticket.

He stumbled into the kitchen and stared blearily at Verity. “What are you cooking?” he mumbled.

“Eggs,” she replied without turning. “Want some?”

“Hmm.” He stares at the clock. One in the afternoon? That wasn’t too bad. Verity must have just gotten in from work though, which made him feel bad. Oh, how he missed the days when he had no shame and also no friends. “No thanks, I don’t want to throw up.”

“I thought alcohol didn’t affect you?”

“Human alcohol doesn’t.” He sat down on one of the tall swivel chairs at their counter and spun around. Ow, oh fuck, that wasn’t a good idea. He grimaced and placed his pounding head in his hands. “Lorelei and I spiked our drinks with something we got from Asgard.”

“Huh.” Verity sat opposite him, eggs piled onto the plate she set down in front of her. She’d cooked the yokes, the heathen. “Did you have a good time?”

Loki stared at her. “I feel like I’m being interrogated by my mother.”

“Oh honey,” she teased, grinning through a mouthful of eggs. “Oh sweetie. Wear protection!”

Loki dramatically re-enacted retching, and she choked on her eggs. A just punishment for her crimes, he thought.

“Ew,” he moaned. “I had to see Sigurd’s flat last night. It was disgusting.”

“I wasn’t being serious?” she stared at him. “I didn’t know you actually slept with-”

“Ew, ew, no,” he interrupted. “I was just detailing how he’s far too disgusting to ever consider as a sexual object. I would probably sleep with Lorelei though.”

“As if she’d sleep with you.”

“I’m forever alone!” he cried “Like the meme!”

“If you think referencing memes from 2008 is going to help you get laid-” she got up, pulled the dishwasher open and put her plate in without washing it off. Awful dishwasher etiquette, and Loki was from a place where they washed dishes with magic, so she had no excuse. “-then I think you might be beyond help.”

“I’m waiting for the right person,” he mumbled, squinting in the light streaming in from their egregiously large windows. “Like America. I ship America and myself.”

“America’s a lesbian,” Verity said.

“I’m a woman sometimes!” He got up and opened the fridge. “It’d be perfectly possible if she could tolerate me.”

“Which she can’t.”

“Yeah,” Loki said in faux-disappointment. “Ergo, forever alone, I’m mister lonely, involuntarily celibate, and sent to the friendzone.”

He shut the fridge, no bacon in sight, and stared at the front of it trying to consider his next move. He could head down to the store, but also he couldn’t, because he couldn’t imagine bringing himself to put on something other than the shorts he was currently in that said ‘BAD WITCH’ in bright green, metallic lettering on the back (a gift from Kate) and also he was pretty certain a drink had been poured on him the night before, judging by the smell of lager and the way his fringe had congealed into a hard point overnight. He wasn’t in any fit state to walk down the street. He had standards to maintain.

Yes, he was an illusionist, but he was a hungover illusionist with a headache, thus he opened up DoorDash and ordered McDonald’s.

“Vee?” he called down the hall. “Do you want anything from McDonald’s?”

“Ew,” she called back. “No.”

He placed his order and looked back up at the fridge. They had a shared calendar printed out on that kind of slippy photo paper so they could use whiteboard markers on it and make sure to not double book having people over. Last time it had happened, Verity’s cousin had to top-and-tail with Thor on the couch, which was a weird experience for everyone, but mostly for Daniel. Currently, the calendar was pretty sparse, since it was early April, but Verity had written something in for Sunday. ‘Easter - Mom’s House’.

He stared at it, confused. He didn’t turn when he heard Verity’s feet pattering back into the kitchen. “Hey, I didn’t know you were religious.”

“Huh?” Verity had flopped onto the couch and was fiddling with the remote control, probably trying to turn on Dr Phil. “Not really, what do you mean?”

“You’re going to your Mum’s for Easter?”

“Oh I guess.” The Judge Judy theme song streamed from the TV. Loki stood corrected. “I don’t believe in it or anything. It’s just tradition.”

“Huh.” He glanced out onto the street. It was lively. They were in pretty central Manhattan, and usually when you looked onto the road it was hard to see a part of the path that wasn’t covered in black throngs of city goers. He sometimes wondered where they were going, had they plans, or were they just wandering, aimless and free? Loki had always thought it would be night to wander off and see where his feet would take him if he didn’t walk with direction or intention. “Had an interesting conversation last night.”

“Yeah?” Verity responded mindlessly, staring at the TV.

“About religion. With a girl in the smoking area.”

“Dude.” Verity leaned over, effortlessly butch. “Conversations about religion in a smoking area? I’m putting my foot down. Either you download Grindr or find a therapist.”

“Both of those options are severely limited by the fact that I am a divine being and a world renowned criminal,” he replied. “Do you think guys on Grindr are into my evil vibes, actually?”

“Guys on Grindr are definitely into your evil vibes.”

“Thanks Verity,” he said, turning and heading towards the door. “You always have my back. Maybe I’ll find a bae after all.”

He grinned at her sounds of indignation and headed to his room to sleep his headache away.

Loki had always been rather a superior child. He had no need for childish matters of ‘bravery’ and ‘heroics’, instead favouring his intellect and insight. His mother said he was a bright young man, thank you. So he cared little about Thor informing him he was too small and weak to spar with him and his friends. However, he had in return let Thor know that he would be instead spending some time with his very close friends, who Thor did not have an acquaintance with and who thought Loki was very cool and interesting indeed. Thus, appearances had to be upheld.

He peered around the corner of the great, awning entrance to the Bifröst control room. Lord Heimdall had his back turned, but Loki was not a fool. A child, but not a fool.

“Your Highness,” the Watcher called out, turning to face him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He inched forward, the tips of his fingers trailing the chilly gold-plated walls of the gate. “I was bored,” he lied.

“Very well.” Heimdall set down the Key and sat heavily down onto its platform. “Would you be able to keep me company during my break?”

Loki lifted his chin, glanced around himself and headed to sit beside him. “I suppose I can grace you with my presence, for some time at least.”

“Have you a full schedule, your Highness?”

Anger and indignation built in his chest. Loki whipped around and scowled at him. “I’m very busy.”

Heimdall’s playful expression sunk with practiced ease into something serious. “My apologies. Of course you are, my prince.”

Loki crossed his arms. He knew that Lord Heimdall knew all his business, all of everyone’s business, but it struck him like a spear to his chest to have been mocked over his… lack of desirability. How dare he? Loki may be a boy, but he was his prince. It was not Heimdall’s place to mock him.

He struggled to think of something dignified to reply, and the pressure of the silence between them built into a garotte that tightened around his neck. He daren’t look at Heimdall, imagining a mocking grin staring down at him. It was unlikely, and would be utterly out of place on the man’s face, but Loki would rather avoid the possibility altogether.

“How is your brother, your Highness?” Heimdall said to break the silence.

In a fit of rage, Loki slammed his palm against the platform. His eyes watered with the pain of it. “Why does everyone only care about what Thor is doing? How Thor is? I am not a vessel through which people may be updated about my brother’s status!”

In his anger he’d turned to glare at Heimdall, and was horrified to find the man’s face transformed by pity. Loki scowled in disgust, and stared at the wall in the opposite direction.

“I did not mean to imply anything as such, your Highness,” Heimdall explained carefully. “I merely asked out of having nothing else very interesting to say. Perhaps I should have asked how you are?”

Loki hesitated, glanced back up. “I’m well,” he mumbled shortly.

“That’s good to hear,” Heimdall replied, staring ahead, out the gates and down the Bifröst. Loki wondered if he saw that which lay in front of him with more clarity, or if what his tangible eyes caught was nothing different to everything else he saw. “Is there anything in particular you would like to speak about?”

Loki was silent for a moment. A topic had been weighing on his mind, one he hesitated to bring to his mother. A heavy topic indeed. “Heimdall?” he asked. “Why am I destined to be a monster?”

It had been a burden to bear, acknowledging what was written upon the tapestries spun deep in Nornheim. When mother had first told him of his destiny years ago, it had seemed like a childhood game, but everyday the gravity of his situation held him just a little firmer to the ground. All has its place, his mother had told him, and your place is important. It is against you that others will shine.

It coloured everything he did, and how others treated him. Thor still loved him as a brother, but everyday his pride in his own journey grew and Loki could only stand and watch as he looked on his brother with a little more suspicion, held him at a slightly further distance. Loki’s cruelty had been encouraged, not in a direct way, but in the ways in which his parents and carers were cruel towards him. Like a knife being sharpened.

Heimdall did not move. “Everything has its duty. Our world is not much but an elaborate play, and we act according to our roles so that the other realms may live in our image.”

“But why me?” Loki pressed. “Why can’t I be the hero?”

Neither mentioned what lay between them. A man and a child and a destiny for two corpses, having slain one another, to lie in the middle of their world as it burned.

“I’m sorry, my prince,” Heimdall said quietly. “Perhaps take some relief in the fact that you needn’t worry over who you will be. The Midgardians in particular struggle with virtue.”

“Really?” Loki muttered, head in his hands. “Isn’t it very freeing for them?”

“Not as such,” he replied. “In return for their agency, they are burdened with the duty to be ever kind and charitable to one another, or be damned for their failure to do so. It's simpler for us. Our fate is predetermined, and while you may be the villain, you are doing your duty as such and can rest easy knowing that it is a moral and just thing for you to be.”

Loki was silent for a second, staring morosely ahead. “But I don’t want to be the villain.”

“I’m sorry, Prince Loki,” Heimdall replied, resting a hand on his shoulder. “But the tapestries have already been spun.”

The Allmothers, in their omnipowetful ability to be incredibly annoying, always called him when he was in the middle of doing things. In this case, a lovely girl named Amelia who had told him he looked like Timotheé Chalamet.

She screamed, causing Loki to whip around with a curse only to find Gaia staring at him through his mirror, disgust on her face and her right eye covered by Loki’s Blondie postcard that Verity had bought him from some emo shop.

Gritting his teeth, he looked down at Amelia, who seemed to be sinking into some form of shock. “Oh man,” he said. “I’m so fucking sorry. Uh, I kind of have to take this. Another time maybe?”

She looked up at him in speechless horror before turning quickly and climbing out from under him. Before he could even look up at her he heard the slam of the door. He glanced up. Huh, at least she’d taken her shirt with her. Loki was a feminist after all.

With a sigh, he turned to face Gaia. “My Lady!” He greeted with gritted teeth. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She held his gaze for a few awkward seconds.

“Okay,” he said. “I would say, if anything it’s your fault that you decided to just turn up in my mirror without any prior warning. Really? You can’t expect me to be celibate. I’m Loki.”

She graced him with a performatively regal sigh and a significantly less regal eye roll. “The Allmothers have a task for you to complete, Loki.”

“Don’t you always?” He grumbled, pulling a hoodie on to cover up some of his nudity. Amelia may have only lost a shirt, but Loki was already down to his boxers. He was a feminist, after all.

“There is a great treasure in the belonging of one of our own, one who dwells in the realm of Midgard.”

“In English?”

The Allmother paused. Her eyebrows furrowed. “Your first language is the tongue of Jötunheim.”

“It’s just a-, it’s just a phrase, okay? Anyway, can you get to the crux of it? I was busy.”

“You aren’t busy anymore.”

He threw his arms out dramatically, making sure his irritation was painted clear on his face. “Thanks for that, by the way!”

“We would like-,” she continued, gathering her composure. “-for you to retrieve the ancient sword, Gram. It’s power is too great for us to allow it to remain out of our grasp. We have waited too long already, and time is of the essence.”

“Gram?” Loki asked. “You mean Sigurd’s sword?”

“The legendary sword Gram does indeed lie in the hands of the hero Sigurd-”

“But Sig loves his sword,” he interrupted. “He’s going to hate me if I take it for you. That’s narc behaviour.”

“This is your duty, Prince Loki, to your people,” Gaia said sternly. “You are, and have always been, a narc.”

“Hey, fuck you-”

She was gone in the next second, and Loki was left staring at his face in the mirror, and the way the skin underneath his eyes was grey and sunken, which made his eyes pop in a sort of consumption-chic. He looked a bit like Maleficent, he thought in an attempt to distract himself from the dread of the task that now lay before him and the inevitable broken friendship (he didn’t have many to break left).

But without all the milf energy. Loki didn’t have any milf energy, which was probably the source of most of his problems

Often, Loki found the easiest way to avoid all of his issues was to pretend he was a funny, quirky little guy living a funny, quirky little life. Oh Loki, he’s the token evil teammate, the funny comic relief in stories about other people, relegated to side character (but hot enough that all the fan art and fic was going to centre him). This allowed him to get away with his faults, which were many and numerous, by playing them off as the work of that darned scamp, Loki. This situation however, was one that worried Loki, as Sigurd was nothing if he wasn’t two things; 1) absolutely unenamoured by Loki and everything Loki had going for himself, and 2) in love with that fucking sword.

Loki sat down cross-legged on his bed and contemplated the choices he could make here. He could take the sword, and try to manipulate the situation to make Sigurd look like he was overreacting. Take the sword to the flat and mess around while he showed it to Verity. But, he knew, Verity wouldn’t play along, because her moral compass was ever on the straight and narrow and anyway, she’d know he was lying.

Lorelei would side with Sigurd over him, because she didn’t trust the Asgardian establishment and they all knew that the tentative little bit of control that let them languish in something resembling a real life on Midgard rested on Sigurd having enough power that Asgardia would rather leave him alone than bother. Losing Gram would put that in jeopardy, and Lorelei wouldn’t trade a shoelace for Loki, nevermind her happy ending. He knew well enough that this theft would be unjust, would put all of the power into the hands of the already powerful. He knew this, and he knew that Sig and Lorelei? Wouldn’t hurt a fly, really. For all the three of them pretended to hate each other, Loki knew they were good people, and they just wanted to live their lives in peace.

He could simply refuse. Not take the sword, let the Allmothers deal with it some other way. He could say it was above his pay grade, which it was.

Except, he couldn’t. Not really. He had duties that Sigurd and Lorelei couldn’t possibly understand. That idea couldn’t push its way forward from the back of his mind, as if constrained by something, writhing back and forth to break free. Or was it? Or was that an excuse, a claim to someone that he was trying, still, to do the right thing, and that it wasn’t his fault when he failed to.

He sighed, and stood up. His wardrobe was a mess, but it was an organised mess, and anyway it was a bright, sunny day outside and he could find his dragon scale armour easily from the way it glinted in the light at the back of his slogan t-shirts.

Sig had moved all the dirty washing from his desk chair. Loki didn’t have high hopes that it was for any reason other than playing PC games though. Sig was really into, like, Call of Duty and Halo. Were they PC? Loki didn’t know. He preferred superior gaming experiences, like Professor Layton.

Lo and behold, Loki found the mysteriously disappeared dirty clothing on Sig’s couch. For a guy whose feats and adventures were written down in legend, he really had some drab taste in furnishings.

Loki moved silently through the flat, letting just a little bit of his seidr seep into his steps to cushion the noise. He didn’t turn on any lights, instead relying on a little bit of patience to let his eyes adjust to the dark. His Jotunn heritage, dare he say it, came in handy at times like this due to the Jotnär having pretty decent night vision. This was in order to do crimes and eat children, his nursemaid had informed him when he was small. Well, Loki was doing crimes, but the jury was out on the eating children bit.

Loki was an expert catburglar, tales of his stealthiness were scribbled on the walls of ancient Midgardian caves, the remnants of long extinct societies, all of which he had outlived. Thus, he cleverly noticed the Guitar Hero™ plastic guitar and stepped over it.

Loki knew one thing about Sigurd. He was paranoid. Thus, Loki had a suspicion about where he would put Gram, and if he was correct he knew this job wouldn’t be easy.

He eased open the bedroom door, and watched as the hero of the stories he had been told as a babe snored while laying on his front. Huh, great ass.

Loki mentally smacked himself. Bad!

His attention was then quickly snatched by the gleaming sword that lay against the left bedpost. Ding ding, we have a winner! Sigurd both expected his sword to be stolen and expected to have to fight off home invaders, and so he kept his greatest asset (other than his ass) right next to him in his most vulnerable times. Loki was his worst nightmare, well usually, but even more so at this moment.

He crept forward, stepping carefully over strewn clothes. Wait, was that Lorelei’s blouse? Ugh, he didn’t want to think about that. He’d much rather they remain entirely celibate in his mind.

Loki crept closer, and reached out to grasp the hilt of the sword silently.

“...What the fuck? Loki?”

He should have run, probably. Teleported, gone invisible, maybe should have even jumped through the window. That might have thrown Sigurd off the scent right? Prince Loki, God of Trickery and Harbinger of Ragnarök wouldn’t have just leapt through a window. Well, the window was seventeen floors up actually, so maybe a regular burglar wouldn’t have either.

Anyway, what happened was he stood stock still, unable to move a muscle or turn to face Sigurd, as if he were labouring under the delusion that Sigurd was a creature that tracked prey by movement. He looked like something out of Looney Tunes, which wasn’t fantastic for his dignity.

“Loki,” Sigurd snapped again.

He turned, and winced at the look of outrage on his friend’s face. Sigurd was sat up on his elbow, his other arm on his comforter. He looked like he was ready to attack someone. Loki was pretty sure he hadn’t expected it to be - well, Loki.

“What the fuck were you doing?” he said. “Were you stealing Gram? Why? For who?”

Ouch, that hurt. He may have been stealing it for someone else, but it was a bit upsetting that Sigurd had immediately disregarded the idea he was working in his own interest.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. “The Allmothers send their regards,” he finally admitted drily.

If anything, Sigurd’s outrage grew. “How- How could you?”

A bit dramatic, Loki thought. Sigurd leapt out of his bed, and Loki didn’t have the chance to step back before his shoulders were in Sigurd’s bruising grip and his back pushed hard against the wall. “You know what this means,” Sigurd said, his disgust evident. “You aren’t stupid, Loki. You know what you’re doing.”

Oh, that was it, wasn’t it? Loki wasn’t evil because he did evil things. He was evil because he knew they were wrong before he did them, and he did them anyway.

“I have to,” he mumbled weakly. Was that a lie? Verity would know. “I have no choice.”

“Yes you do,” Sigurd said, releasing his grip and stepping back, “Yes you do, you’re just too much of a coward to admit it. You’re so desperate to play happy families. I can see it in you, and so can Lorelei. All you want is to be useful to people, even if it’s for the Allmothers, who treat you like shit. You do their fucking dirty work and they kick you around and you love it, because you get to be part of their rotten little story.”

Loki stared at him, suddenly feeling utterly, entirely tired beyond belief. Sigurd could not tell him anything that he did not tell himself.

“You’re a coward. You’re a fucking coward who does everything the Allmothers ask of you. One moment you sneer at them up there, in Asgard, and pretend that you and me and Lorelei are all in the same boat, but the next moment you bare your neck to them. One day they’re going to ask you to hurt someone you really care about, and you know what? You’ll do it. They’ll ask you to hurt Thor, or Verity, and you’ll do it without a second thought because you’re a coward, Loki, and you always will be.”

His breath caught in his throat. “I wouldn’t hurt Verity.”

“Yes, you would. If someone put it on a tapestry you’d do it in a fucking heartbeat.”

“I see, well,” he paused, looked to his right to avoid Sigurd’s gaze. “I’ll let you get back to sleep I suppose.”

Sigurd reached out to grab him, but he was gone before he had a chance.

—

Received FRI 2:08

Verity: hey u coming back tonight or what

Verity: im assuming ur working

Verity: if u are there’s leftover pasta bake in the fridge. Ik you hate leftovers but its on offer. Im off to bed, night!

Received FRI 11:02

Verity: hey called lorelei to check in on you and she says you and sig aren’t talking. She didnt seem thrilled w you either. U ok?

Verity: call me if you get the chance ok

Received MON 15:47

Verity: yh ok this is cringe but please call. Im worried

Verity: you usually lmk when youre gone this long and sig was being suspicious

Verity: i asked him if hed seen you and he like laughed

Verity: idk maybe hed be more concerned if something had happened but u guys dont exactly have a normal expectation for health and safety in the workplace

Received WED 23:21

Verity: please call i’m worried

Verity: please

Received THU 18:54

Verity: you’re a fucking idiot

Verity: I hate you

Received THU 19:02

Verity: i didn’t mean that

Verity: sorry.

Verity: please do call. please

Verity wasn’t the only one texting him, which would have done wonders for his ego if it had been anywhere near still intact, but she was the only one who’s texts he kept re reading, scanning them obsessively and trying to convince himself he was doing the right thing.

The thing that nagged him though, was how would he know what the right thing was?

All his life, the right thing was whatever was in stride with where he was determined to end up. The path had been laid out for him - all he had to do was walk it. But, though the Norns had written out his beginning, his end, his great misdeeds and stories, they hadn’t written about things like whether he should get KFC or not, whether he’d be good at Mario Party or what dog breed was his favourite (alsatian). They had never had the name Verity Lewis brush their lips.

Because this world was untethered. It simply wasn’t important enough for the Norns to have seen. Did that mean that they were free, here? Was that bad or good? To Loki, who despite everything had spent an eternity comfortable in the knowledge that he knew what would happen, and that the future was clear to him as long as he could stand in the halls he’d grown up in and stare at the tapestries on the walls, the idea of absolute undetermined fate was deeply terrifying. It caught in his throat, wrapped around his heart, squeezed the warmth out of his chest.

But Sigurd was right, and so he had a decision to make.

There were people walking around under him, where he sat perched on the roof of a Soviet era apartment building in Brno. They didn’t know what would happen to them, how many kids they’d have, whether they’d marry or how they’d die. They didn’t know any of that, and that meant they could decide.

Huh.

He stumbled when he flashed in, and his hand reached out steady himself against the wall. The lights were off, but after a couple of seconds he heard a slight clutter from Verity’s room. Taking a deep breath he made his way to the kitchen and sat down at the bar. He didn’t bother to switch the light on, instead just collapsed into the chair and placed his head in his hands.

The lights switched on. “Loki?”

He peeked at her from between his fingers. Verity stared at him as if she couldn’t quite decide whether to be angry or happy. She was squinting (she wasn’t wearing glasses - she must have been asleep). He must have looked suitably miserable because instead of launching into a tirade she narrowed her eyes and slowly moved to sit opposite him, as if trying to tame some vicious creature. Apt, perhaps.

Their silence hung very heavily. “I’m sorry,” Loki eventually said, mortified to hear a crack in his voice from disuse.

She watched him carefully. “I forgive you,” she replied. Not ‘it’s okay’, because Verity found lying, even unconsciously, very difficult. “Can you tell me what’s up?”

By ‘can’, Loki knew that Verity was asking as if this was something related to his work for the Allmothers, but he found that even though this wasn’t any secret mission detail he was forbidden from sharing, he still found it hard to describe.

“I mean,” he muttered, breaking away from her stare. “Where would you like me to start?”

“Wherever you want to?”

He swallowed. “I had to steal something from Sigurd. Gram-” She opened her mouth and he jerked his shoulders defensively. “Please let me just explain. The Allmothers asked me too. I knew that if I did it it would put Sig and Lorelei’s relative safety at a significant risk. But,” he paused, bit his lip, horrified by the lump in his throat. “Even though I knew it was the wrong thing to do, and that all of you, all of my friends, would think less of me because of it, I had to do it. I had to do it because if I don’t do things that are wrong, that are bad, I am not filling the role that I am set out to fill, that I have always been set out to fill.

“There are tapestries, in Asgard,” he explained, a wobble entering his tone. “They’ve been there since before me, before my parents, before anyone. They were woven by the Norns, who see all of the past, the present and the future. They were woven so that we, who will be images of all the people of the Nine Realms and who will serve as a reflection of their large and varied communion, could know where we fit and what roles we are to play. And I’m a villain, Verity. I am the bad guy, because someone has got to be. There are people who actively choose to be bad and evil and selfish all over the shop, and someone has to represent them in the grand scheme of things. And, mainly, I have to keep everyone’s hands clean by making mine dirty.”

Her hands reached steadily out, grabbed one of his and held it between them. They were tears threatening to fall now, and they choked up his voice.

“So I do what the Allmothers ask me to, and I antagonise Thor, and I play my part as the bad guy of the story so that one day that story may be told to children as they are tucked into bed, so that they know that immorality causes you nothing but strife. I am supposed to have that strife, and through this my immorality is good and right, because I am an example.”

He paused. “Sigurd said I would hurt you, if they asked me to.”

“Would you?” she asked.

A second passed. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’d rather not risk it, but I thought you at least deserved an explanation for my sudden disappearance.”

She leaned back then, stared out their windows and onto the road beneath them, still busy despite the hour. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“Dare I ask?” he chuckled wetly.

Her voice was firm. “I think that’s bullshit. I know you’re telling the truth, that you might hurt me if your Moms asked you. But I think you don’t know that that’s not true, which is why it’s registering as right to me.”

He squinted at her in confusion.

“You believe it,” she explained. “Which is why it’s registering as true to me. But that doesn’t mean you would, it just means you don’t think you’re a good person, and that’s not news.

“You see yourself as some kind of cut-out character with one trait, a yin to Thor’s yang or some shit, but you only think that’s all real because people have told you it is. Who’s to say those tapestries are anything? I think that you - all of you Asgardians - are terrified of being unmoored, so you make up shit like this so that you don’t have to grapple with morality.”

He tried to interrupt, but Verity continued. “You’re all terrified of life, so you pretend it’s one big play you’re putting on for our benefit, with roles and lines so that you needn’t make ‘em up. But you know what? Why don’t you just try? Try to improvise. Break away from it all. Maybe those tapestries do mean something, but maybe they just come true because you all keep doing what they say.

“You’re not the bad guy in a play, Loki,” she told him, her voice full of emotion and her hand rubbing his. It was just enough to keep him tethered to reality, he thought. “You’re my friend. You’re funny, and flippant. You don’t like to talk about your emotions. You don’t have great self-esteem and you kick ass at Jenga. You’re playing a part, but you know the thing about actors? They have lives when they get off the stage, and you could too.”

His boots echoed across the ground as he climbed the short hill to his destination. It was dust, not dirt, that he trod on, and the air was stale and cloyed in his lungs. It was the kind of air that felt like it didn’t blow, but just hung in the air for eternity, older than you by indescribable amounts.

No one went here. It was unplottable by some working laid down long before even the beginning of Asgardian history. It had taken Loki four days to crack, because 1) he’d spent all of his non-eating, non-sleeping time in the last couple of days focused on it, 2) he’d already made a groundwork as a teenager before his mother had told him off for meddling in things he shouldn’t have been and 3) he was pretty fucking good. Really, the only reason he hadn’t touched it before was because as he became a man, he grew to respect the Norns. Things had changed.

“Hello!” he called, not surprised to find the three women staring at him, likely well aware of his arrival for at least eternity, or something.

“Liesmith,” Lady Verdandi spoke in a low, powerful voice. “You have come to rattle the chains that you feel resting upon your shoulders.”

“Yep,” he responded, popping the ‘p’.

“These chains,” Skuld said in a tight voice. “Are imaginary.”

“No actually,” he said, beginning to pace around the room. “You see, I don’t really care if they’re ‘imaginary’ or whatever. I actually am just here to let you know that I’m just going to be kind of doing my own thing from now on.”

“Your ‘own thing’?” Urd sneered. “ You do not have your ‘own thing’. The fate we have laid out for you is everything you are.”

“Everything I am is just a mask. A mask that you put on me!”

“Oh? That implies something on which a mask can be put. Is there anything under your mask, Loki? Do you even know?”

“Well, I guess I’m going to find out,” he ground out. They were sat down, staring up at him, and he felt unnervingly like he was still a child who had been summoned to his father’s study to receive an admonishment for troublemaking.

“You will find out,” Verdandi explained calmly. “That you are mistaken, and that you will play your part in the fate that will become and will end and will begin again, whether you try to fight against it or not.”

“So that’s it then?” Loki said softly, although his voice still echoed across the ancient walls that enclosed him. “There’s no path to grace for me. I’m your villainous fool, cast in this grand play so that your heroes may show their virtue in my vanquishment. I’m good when I’m bad, and I’m bad when I’m good.”

He paused, and stared her down.

“Well, I’m afraid I’d rather be bad on my own terms, actually.”

Verdandi had opened her mouth to say something else, probably something even more patronising, but before she had the chance Loki had stepped between reality and left Nornheim and its frigid, stale air behind him.

“Saw you coming,” the Watcher said when Loki stepped out in front of him.

Loki smiled. “Naturally,”

Heimdall sat tiredly on the Bifröst’s lock. Loki noticed with a sort of jolt that Heimdall was getting old. Maybe they all were. “What is it you would like from me, my prince?”

“Oh nothing really,” he answered. “I just thought I should let someone know that I will be unable to complete the most recent mission that the Allmothers have given me. In fact, perhaps you could let them know that I’m putting in my two week’s notice, so to speak? Although I’m not really giving them any notice, let alone two weeks.”

“Oh? Might I ask what has brought this on, your highness?”

Loki crossed his arms. “I’m trying this new thing called ‘making your own destiny’. All the cool kids are doing it.”

Heimdall nodded. He wouldn’t have been able to have viewed Loki’s conversation with the Norns, but he would have seen what Verity had said. “I wish you luck, dear child,” he said softly.

Loki’s smile turned quiet and genuine for just a moment, before he turned away and took a few steps. Wait! He had something else to mention.

He looked back at Heimdall.

“By the way, maybe I am going to kill you someday,” he said. “”But I promise that I’m going to try my damndest not to.”

With that, he stepped back into New York, and headed towards Dominoes to pick up their pizza. They were doing movie night, he and Verity. They were going to watch Legally Blonde. Loki thought about - What was her name? Susie? Sarah? He thought maybe she was right, in the end. Maybe it was a gift to believe in what can’t be seen, and thus a gift to follow darkened paths. But the path that brought him home felt warm and reliable, just like it always did.

#this is nothing #really its just an attempt to see if i can write something 5k+#so its not good #but hey #loki #loki agent of asgard #agent of asgard #verity lewis #loki fic

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stevenbasic · 4 years

Photo

Sitting alone in the small chair in front of her desk, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was already being submissive, that he was acting contrite, before the meeting even began. He’d been cowed by what happened last night, and could swear the girls were looking at him funny when he skulked into his office this morning. Did they all know already?? What happened with Randi? It all made him nervous, and he knew it did nothing but undermine his authority and make him look weak.

And then there were the stream of aggressively confident posts Melissa had put on Instagram last night, and those he’d woken up to. “I’m proud of being a woman”? #simpforme, #motheryourman, #getready? “there’s gonna be a lot more of it”?? #stronger #bigger #successful. And - the baby-bird thing??? Jesus. It was like he was watching her spread her wings and he felt, this morning, like he was just cowering in her shadow.

She’d texted him this morning, said she’d wanted to meet with him in her office at 9, and had cleared the patients from his schedule. It was 9:05, looking at his watch. Every moment that went by felt like another nail in the coffin of his control of the office. I can’t let this happen, he tried to steel himself, I have to somehow show that I’m in charge.

But then, he heard it. The unmistakable staccato of her heels approaching down the hallway - click-clack-click-clack, echoing like gunshots - was heavier than one would expect in the corridor. The sound made his heart start to race. Why am I so nervous?? The Instagram posts and the events of last night - the girls in his apartment, him stupidly letting Randi once again have her way with him - had him on edge. Plus, he slept lousy. What did Melissa want to meet about?

click-clack-click-clack. She was almost there.

Remember, he told himself, she works for you.

But as soon as she walked in, when she entered the room and seemed to draw all light to her, he immediately felt himself to be in the presence of a more powerful person. Reflexively, he stood, and tried to keep from gaping. Oh my god she’s huge, he balked, astounded by her height. The only reason she hadn’t had to duck to get through the doorway was because she’d had such large, eight-foot doors installed.

“Good morning,” she said, her smile ebullient, happy to find him here and deferentially waiting for her, standing at attention, “Oh, so chivalrous! I like a man with good manners.” She watched his face as he took in her outfit, her figure, how tall she was in her new shoes. Immediately she knew she’d chosen right: the aggressively low-cut pink sweater, the high-waisted, dark grey pants that helped make her look both hippy, authoritative and even leggier than usual. And then there were the shoes.

“th-those are some heels,” he admitted, his obsequious gaze finding the safest place to linger: her feet and the black, patent leather pumps which made her...oh my god...he couldn’t bear to think how tall she’d be.

“Yeah huh?” she smiled, appreciating the crack in his voice, the submissive body language he was already assuming, standing there for her. She moved towards her desk, making sure to step as close to him as possible. “My friend Abby dropped them off for me this morning. They’re eight inches.”

“w-wow,” was all he could manage, dwarfed as he felt as she - standing well more than a foot taller than him - passed by. He knew he’d already started acting the simp, taken off his guard by her appearance, and was too dazed to resolve himself otherwise.

“They make me almost six-foot ten,” she stated, seeing how flabbergasted by her height he seemed. Something inside her urged her to step back closer to him, stand above him, demonstrate how big she was and make him feel small. That feeling made her tingle dangerously, rushed blood to her chest, and it was a hard instinct to fight back. But instead she knew she should proceed carefully with him, start business, and so she moved behind her desk. “You’re waiting for me to sit, aren’t you?” she asked with an approving smile, “such a gentleman.”

“Oh, haha, yeah I guess…” he said, still finding himself awkwardly standing in place, fidgeting.

“Looks like your mother trained you right," she responded, and immediately saw the wince in his expression. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie,” she cooed, as he cast his eyes aside, “I forgot. Forgive me?” She watched him nod, wanly. It was obviously, even to this day, a tender subject with him. I have to remember, she thought to herself, poor thing didn’t have a proper mommy.

"Well, every girl likes a respectful man,” she continued, with a munificent smile. Standing behind her desk, she felt the authority the office’s place of power gave her. “Especially one who knows his place in front of the alpha female. But no...sit.”

He looked at her as if confused. She was waiting for him patiently, like she was testing his resolve. Reflexively, though, he began to sit, and felt immediately emasculated as she remained standing.

“Good boy,” she said in approval, allowing mischief into her smile for the first time. Oooo this is funn, she caught herself musing.

The shock of that - the infantile little praise, the talk of “alpha female” - was not one he’d expected. She’d played around like this last week, at the beach conference...but hearing it here in the office was another thing altogether. “We’re - haha - w-we’re still doing that?” he asked, looking up at her, feeling a dark shiver of self-abasement and secretly marveling at the perfect hourglass her trim but wantonly full figure cut above him, silhouetted against the white wall behind.

“oooo remember, sweetie,” she replied, “we’re alone, it’s just you and me.” With that, on cue, she tapped a button on her desk and the door to the office closed behind him; she liked the startled look that brought to him. “We don’t have to worry about what anyone else thinks and just fall into our...natural roles,” she purred, putting her hands on the desk to lean over towards him. She smiled as his eyes predictably darted to her cleavage. “We’ll just let nature take its course,” she stated, “How does that sound, Dr. J?”

“Oh, uh…” he stammered, temporarily spellbound by the sheer volume of bosom she’d put on display. This sweater, he found himself thinking, she wore this on purpose. And just as he was almost able to tear his gaze away from her breasts, she casually squeezed them together and his eyes remained fixed, for more than a moment too long. Letting nature take its course, he thought, might end up with my face buried up to my ears.

And so she had him speechless, already; that got her grinning. She brushed away an imaginary nothing from the swell of her right beast, keeping his gaze fixed right where she wanted it. Melissa knew what she needed to say in this meeting, the words she had prepared to get him to do what she wanted. But, gauging his reaction, she was seeing already that she wouldn’t have to work too hard. Her tits could do the heavy lifting.

“Enjoying the view?” she asked, after finally drawing her fingers away from her chest and immediately causing him to look away. He flushed red, caught staring. ”Omigosh you’re so cute when you’re blushing,” she giggled, only to cause a wave of jiggles to joggle through her chest, drawing his hapless gaze for another brief second. Her breasts were just so big, the huge soft swells of her cleavage the main attraction in the room and a magnet to his eyes.

She laughed. “So, you know why I’m dressed like this, right?” she asked, a wry smile acknowledging the blatant aggression of her outfit, “the heels, the tight pants…” For a moment she looked down at her own chest, then locked eyes with him. “...the boobage?”

“Uhhhh….”

”You know what I'm going to ask for, of course?” she continued, becoming struck by how adorable he was in his tongue-tied, defenseless denseness.

“A-a raise?” he asked, struggling with all his will to keep her gaze.

Her laugh was deep and sultry, one of a woman pleased. “No haha but…” she said, as she then gathered her arms under her breasts, cradling them to exaggerate their size, “…could I get one if I asked really nicely?”

Oh my god, he thought, as he felt his dick start to stiffen, no. this is...too much. But he didn’t have the will to protest, scold her. “Y-you know money’s been tight…”

“Haha I’m joking, you know I’m teasing!” she laughed, enjoying the bewildered look on his face and standing up straight again, “I know your numbers are down. But that’s why we need to talk, about Abby…”

Abby, he thought, she’s the sales-rep friend...from that weird pharm company. He’d resisted meeting with her from the beginning, unwilling to waste precious time on another salesmonkey pushing snake oil. He’d been inundated with their brochures, ignored countless phone messages, avoided their research papers in his email, and still he had no idea what their product really was. It seemed like they made one thing and one thing only: some sort of supplement for women of childbearing age. His was a geriatric practice! Why would they want him to be part of some clinical trial? It really made no sense and he’s really wanted no part of it.

But he knew Melissa felt otherwise.

Indeed, she knew getting a meeting together was important to Evolution Pharmaceuticals, really the main reason Abby had sent her the posting for this job in the first place. Abby had encouraged her to go for the position even though it was frankly above her abilities. But it was something, a challenge, a job maybe she could grow into…

...and now she fully intended to, in spades.

Melissa leaned in further again, over the desk towards him, her suddenly soft doe-eyes seeking his out. “Remember..it’s just you and me,” she sweetly cooed, putting her full breasts once again on obvious display for him, “nobody’s going to think less of you if you agree to this…” She allowed her chest to slowly push forward, her shoulders back. “...just let nature take its course.”

She knew he heard the encouragement in her voice. Her beauty held real power that she knew how to use, and she intended to put him at ease. In the moment, she knew he didn’t even realize that it was already working. Her eyes searched his and saw something they were looking for. A warm smile formed on her lips and she continued to let her body do all the work. His eyes all but unabashedly on her tits again, this was already happening just the way Abby said it would.

“So...about meeting with Abby...” she began, letting go just the faintest waft of her pheromones, to drift across the desk, just enough to-

“yes okay I’ll do it,” he answered, without even having to be asked.

What?? Haha omigod.

“You...will?” she beamed, her smile becoming a sudden, dazzling grin. It can’t be that easy, can it? Admittedly a bit surprised she was immediately struck by one self-aggrandizing thought: she loved being this beautiful...and this big. She loved the feeling of being stronger and more powerful than those around her. She loved how her body, her buxom sexuality, could be so simply and so extravagantly too much for people; how it reduced them to putty in her hands, paralyzing them for her with nothing more than a smile and a look. And, what’s more, she was beginning to realize what else she could accomplish, given the time. She knew, secretly, that the bigger she got, the more Melissssy there was, the easier it would all become.

So bring it on, she thought to herself, give me more. She had to keep herself from laughing. Who needs an associate’s degree when you wear an I-cup?

“Ok I’ll call her, put it in your schedule right away,” Melissa said in victory, knowing she had to be gentle and watching as he had begun, it seemed, to sheepishly shrink into the chair below her. This was emasculating for him, she knew, capitulating like he was in his utter defenselessness. It gave her a thrill, she had to admit, flexing her authority here in the office, dwarfing him like this, dwarfing a man. She knew it was possibly unfair, that she’d had the deck stacked against him by coming at him with all this in his most fragile moments...but it needed to be done, and she would show him it was all for the best. And, she thought slyly, she would someday make it up to him, make him forget how little she’d just made him feel. Unless, of course, he likes that sort of thing...

But in the meantime-“, she knew she had other work to do, and as the saying goes about the hot iron and the striking-

“Let’s talk about new staff,” she said innocently, “I want to hire twelve more girls.”

“T-twelve?” he blurted, shaken a bit back to himself, “Really? Didn’t we lose just, like...five?”

“It was three, and then three part-timers,” she corrected him, “But I want to bring on twelve full-time people. A nurse practitioner, maybe a PA, a nurse Nurse Asstha...Attess…”

“Aesthetician?” he helped, even through his disarray.

“Yes, that..!” she giggled, “I’ll learn how to say that someday!” Twirling her hair girlishly in between the fingers of one hand, she stood again. “New providers, they’ll all need support staff, plus we have to replace the girls in accounting,” she listed, now starting to step away from behind her desk, “and we need a new supervisor for the front desk, unless you think Audrey is up for the job…?”

He paused, a bit confused, watching as she lazily stepped towards him. Was she actually asking for his opinion? Wait...he thought, why am I surprised by th- This was obviously getting away from him too quickly. “Uh, sure, but…” he began, “are you positive we can handle so many ne-”

“Oh, sweetie,” she cooed, now standing right next to him, above him, noticing how he’d reflexively turned his chair to face her, “we can handle it no problem. Maybe it’s just you that’s having some trouble?” She looked down at him, her employer, and mused on how anxious and small he looked. She reached down to tenderly push a wayward lock of hair behind his ear. “Besides...don’t you want to see us grow?”

What did she mean? “W-well, yes, of course,” he agreed, fighting the urge to turn his head, nuzzle his face into her soft hand as it continued to stroke his temple, above his ear, “of course I want the p-practice to do well. To, uh...grow.” His thoughts drifted to a day, maybe not far away, of an office she’d built for him, of being surrounded by more women than he could count, all young and beautiful, all doting on him...and of course, all beholden to her.

Is that what she meant by wanting to “see us grow”?

“So, uh, sure…” he said, knowing again it was another little surrender, “hire whoever you want…” He knew this was reckless, foolish even, and could only hope beyond hope that this money from - what was it? Lean In? - would be enough.

Melissa - thrilled again but now keeping her grin in check - saw the doubt in his face. She understood this was hard on him, watching the reins of his business being taken by another, and knew she should...reward him.

She stroked his hair - oooo he had such nice hair - and thought to herself.

It was just like Abby said. This was a man, she considered, remembering the type of pictures he’d been hoarding on his computer, who needed a strong female figure. This was a man, remembering what he’d told her about his childhood, who craved a woman’s constant attention, unconditional affection. This was a man - it almost made her giggle - who needed a mommy.

Just last night in DM Ms. Zazanetti - oops, I’m supposed to call her ‘Sara’! - had told it to her straight, made her understand. It's not taboo that he’d been stockpiling pictures of beautiful, ultra-bosomy, giant women on his computer, but rather the reasonable needs of manchild who never really had a childhood. He had told it to her himself, the night at that bull-riding bar: that he “never really had a mother.” And she’d heard it from Rina - who come to find out used to work here, and was one of his old flings - he’d lost her at a very young age.

Omigod the poor thing!

She knelt down in front of him, heart growing in her chest as she looked deep into his eyes. The desperation, she knew, ran deep in his mind, looking for fully blossomed women. His breast obsession was a consequence of what he missed as a child, a toddler, an infant - being coddled, nurtured, loved. And, she reminded herself, it wasn’t just pictures of random huge, big-breasted women he’d had on his computer. There were also countless pictures of her. It was a significant moment, when she’d realized what she represented to him, what she could strive to be for him - even if his male pride keeps him from ever really expressing himself, admitting what he needs.

#motheryourman, remember?

Still gazing at him, wondering what he was thinking, she smiled to herself. Well, he’s not “your man” but - haha - close enough, right?

“You’ve been doing such a good job, being so strong,” she said to him, tenderly, taking one of his hands into both of hers and resting it on his lap, “especially with everything going on.”

”uhhh...what do u mean?” he asked. There was - good god - so much going on. But...looking into her eyes, he suddenly knew what she meant.

“When were you going to tell me? I had to hear it from Marisela,” she said, sounding a bit sad that he would not confide in her, about his troubles at home...or, rather, what used to be his home, “I thought we were friends…”

========================================

Thanks to GTScity reader @sherlock for inspirations and ideas - they really helped the post coalesce. And to FantasticMrMoose - fans may notice that a few passages are all but stolen right from "Sexy Lexie": awesome story!

#Growing Into the Job

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spice-chan · 4 years

Text

Runaway Omega

Katsu’s End .

Bakugo moved toward you in one stride, gulping worriedly as he looked you over.

You breathed out, feeling the pain dull and disappear.

“I’m fine now, but can you two try and not fight for one second ?”

Bakugo looked away and kissed his teeth, glaring at the ground. You hated how you recognized that as him being guilty and acknowledging his wrong.

You turned to Shoto, slightly remorseful at your coming request, but this has to be done in private.

“Sho, could you please let me talk to Bakugo alone?”

Shoto looked between you and Bakugo, his stare hardening as he tried to protest.

“But -“

“Shoto, I have to do this in private please.” You coaxed. He sighed in reluctance, bit gave in and pecked you, staring at Bakugo while he was at it and reveling in his jealousy rolling off in waves.

“Who the fuck is that ?” Bakugo asked. His anger seemed so evident with his clenched jaw and murderous red pools staring at you. He wasn’t shouting, but this was like a volcano, threatening to erupt and destroy everything in it’s wake.

“That’s Sho...my Alpha.” You said.

And erupt it did.

His face starting to show the semblance of his scales as patches of red starting appearing on his skin, his eyes got so black, it was like you were staring Thanatos in the eye.

He stalked towards you, barely able to contain his Alpha, as he urged him to do what he should have done years ago.

He grabbed your chin, tilting your head sideways to bare your neck to him as he leaned down and sniffed it. His growl near your ear was low, yet the barely there sound sent shivers down your spine.

“His stench is all over you.” He growled in distaste. He can smell that bastard all over you, and he was teetering on the edge of giving in to his urges and white, hot anger.

You pulled yourself together, willing yourself not to give in to his charm as you always had, with his tempting caramel scent, daring you to pluck the apple and take a bite. But the sweetness of the forbidden fruit is nothing but ethereal, while sweet, it was never everlasting.

You pushed him away. Stammering out with a flushed face , “ why do you care anyway ? I could have an Alpha, or two if I wish to, lasting time I checked, I wasn’t wanted by you.”

Her biting words brought sadness upon him. He is the reason they are where they are, the reason his Omega had to go through her pregnancy alone, or rather, with that wretched Alpha.

Bakugo cupped the back of your head and brought you into a warm embrace, his arms caging around you.

“Bak-“

“It’s Katsuki ! Always has been and always will be !” He shouted, still keeping you in his caramel and firewood scented embrace.

“I never meant any of it ...God, a few days after I was back at your door, sniffing around for your scent like a starved dog.” He choked at. Your heart clenched at the sight of his tear stained eyes, the vermilion shining like rubies.

“You said what you did Katsuki...I can’t simply believe that you didn’t mean it, there must have been some truth in there.” You explained.

“NO!” He yelled.

He cradled your face in his hands, the face he worshipped for the better part of his life. The one that plagued his dreams, and sometimes even the cruelest of his nightmares.

“I -“ he suddenly got tongue tied, the words he left unspoken when he shouldn’t are at the tip of his tongue. “I love you (y/n), and I’m sorry I didn’t show it, but I’ll be damned if I leave you to some other Alpha, you’re mine, no one can change that.”

It’s not like Bakugo never said the L words to you before, but he kept it at minimum, due to his own biting nature, but also because of the incredibly happy, adorable expression you made every time that made him want to take on the world for. He was a simp for that expression, and he hated weakness. Now all he wanted was to see it again.

Your expression was troubled.

“Katsuki, you said I’m beneath you, so why am I suddenly important to you ? I won’t let you play me like a fiddle and then toss me like I’m worthless when you’re angry.” You said, maintaining your resolve.

Katsuki looked like he was about to protest, when you firmly reminded him.

“Besides, I have an Alpha, who always makes me feel cherished and loved. He’d never tell me I’m beneath him.”

Your words brought a mix of jealousy and self loathing through him. The male gritted his teeth, but even he knew, he had no right to be angry when he said that shit to her.

“Well, you should have talked to me.” He still tried to defend his stance though.

“What was there to say ?”

“Should of said you were leaving, that you didn’t want to be with me, that you were pregnant, fuck, you should have just said something !”

“Bakugo, you made it clear that you didn’t want me to be a part of your life, you don’t need someone distracting you ! You wanted me to leave you the fuck alone, so I did !”

Words that were left unsaid were tumbling out of your mouth, unburdening you with their weight.

“And I didn’t know I was pregnant until I left.”

A silence took over Katsuki, he knew you were right, but he’ll be damned if he lets you go, especially into the arms of another man. He loved you too much, and love was selfish.

He hugged your midsection, where the pup that’s a mixture of the two of you lied. He started purring, the familiar sound stirring up buried feelings.

Your Omega however, still didn’t respond to him.

“Shitty Omega, you think I’m going to let you leave me again ? No, no, no. I can’t let you and our pup leave me, I love you, and I will live our pup too, you just have to see the best in me one more time.”

You turned away, unable to look at his pleading eyes. You didn’t want to betray Shoto like that, but you hates how he pulled at your heartstrings, like a puppeteer, moving the strings how he wishes.

Bakugo refused to leave. He’s stayed, with the excuse of wanting to be there for his pup, which wasn’t entirely an excuse. He always feared how he might be as a father, but he couldn’t hell the joy at imagining a little pul of his own, with you. God, you looked angelic, he could only hope that the pup inherits your looks, so he could always see you in their.

.....

Shoto walked near the ocean, where he first met you, trying to destress.

Wishful thinking.

“SHOTO” a booming voice called out. Shoto looked startled for a second, until that transformed into disdain upon seeing the object of his hatred.

“What are you doing here ?” Shoto asked coldly.

“Shoto, why did you leave ?” Enji asked, not concealing the sorrow in his voice.

“Isn’t it obvious ?”

A silence enveloped them.

Enji swallowed, looking to the ground in remorse, the remorse that Shoto refused to believe his father harbored.

“You left because of me, but please Shoto, you need to come back.” Pleaded Enji.

“And why is that ?”

“Your mother Shoto, she’s very ill, and had been since you left.” Enji confessed, making Shoto’s heart drop.

His ...mother ?

But he got a grip on himself quickly. This could be a foil play to get him back willingly.

Sho scoffed, turning a scornful eye to the esteemed king Enji.

“And I should believe you because ?”

“You don’t have to, but I know you, you will never forgive yourself if your mother dies without seeing you.”

He was right. Shoto loved his mother too much for that.

But Shoto knows, he couldn’t bring you with him on this risky journey. His father might be lying, and he doesn’t want to think about it or imagine it but; he might hurt you.

“I am going to give the throne to either you or one of your brothers, then taking your mother to the West to find a suitable doctor.” Enji said. It was that serious huh ?

Shoto loved you, and could see himself spending the rest of his life with you but, if it puts your life at risk, then Shoto will gladly chose your happiness over his.

You were the companion that eased his loneliness, and he will be forever grateful to you for showing him the light in this darkened world.

.....

“So how did you find me ?” You asked Bakugo as you sat down in the living room with him, eating strawberries.

He smirked at that. If you thought you could hide, you were sourly wrong.

“I sent spies to each village, keeping an eye on any healers that don’t reside in the castle, or anyone that looks like you. You weren’t as discreet as you could have been.” He explained, then added.

“Plus, that women you helped wasn’t secretive, she ratted you out with the promise of money.”

Well damn, that one stung. Is that how she repays you ?

Bakugo took notice of your soured expression.

“That’s why I tell you to be careful, dumbass.” He reprimanded.

“I don’t regret it though, I wasn’t about to let someone die. And a mother at that.” You rebuttled, and he shrugged.

“And thats why you always get in trouble.”

You glared at him, but Bakugo just thought you looked like a kitten trying to growl. He reached out and pinched your cheek.

You were about to swat his hand away, when Shoto walked in the house, walking briskly into the living room.

He walked in, ignoring Bakugo’s growl, and made his way to you.

“Can we talk ?”

At the vague question, you nodded your head.

Bakugo growled to himself even more when he saw the two of you walk inside the bedroom, glaring at the door like it offended his ancestors, then snatching a strawberry and eating it with elongated canines.

.........

“(Y/n), you understand, right ?” Shoto asked worriedly.

You swallowed, then nodded sadly.

“Besides, I can’t be the father the pup deserves, the only father figure I have is potentially a danger to the both of you.”

At that, you nodded more firmly. You were still heart broken, the Alpha you got used to having everyday, the one you were slowly falling for, is leaving. But somehow, you had a feeling you’d be alright. It would be alright.

He had his reasons anyway, you couldn’t think of endangering your pup, and Shoto doesn’t think he is ready to be a father. He said he still loves you, probably always will, but he had a feeling this is for the best.

Shoto kissed you one last time, the sound resounding throughout the room as be deepened it. You could feel many emotions, but the thing you could feel most is the goodbye through the kiss. Maybe that’s why is was so passionate.

You broke it off when the sound of shattering plates echoed.

Shoto rolled his eyes, and gave you a peck and a hug, before walking to the door and stopping.

“(Y/n), do write me letters when you hear good news.” He said, giving you one last heartfelt smile, before turning the doorknob and walking out.

You laid on the bed, with a soured scent as you sighed.

You caressed your belly. Your bundle of joy would surely erase most the pain.

The door opened, and in your peripheral vision, you saw a tuft of blond hair and a scrunched up nose.

“What’s sup, dumbass ?”

Should you tell him ?

He sat down next to you, then took your hand and started purring to calm your nerves. Somehow, it worked.

You turned to him and smiled, reveling in his surprised face, which then erupted in a blush. You allowed yourself a moment of reprieve, and caressed the blush on his cheeks as you used to. The gesture brought butterflies to both parties.

“Well, I was dumped.”

Bakugo growled, ready to stand up and chase after the half n half bastard for several reasons, but he will begin with this.

But you held his arm, preventing him from moving.

“But it’s understandable.” You reasoned.

“But-“

“Katsuki.” You used that final tone that always let him know you were gravely serious.

Before he can attempt to be belligerent again, you halted him with a question.

“Katsuki, do you even want to be a father ? With me no less ?”

The question made a spark of anger go through him. If not you, then who else ?

He glared at you.

“Damn straight dumbass, if not you, then who else ? Don’t think you’re getting out of this.”

This made you laugh, surprising him. The hostility in his expression broke, making him huff and call you a weirdo.

“I can feel the connection between me and them, maybe it’s because a dragon can sense another, or maybe it’s the connection to my pup, but I know for a fact, I love our pup and I couldn’t wish for a better mother.”

The use of collective pronouns made you feel warm inside, like a journey you were set to take with the most joy filled of companions.

And in a few days time, you held Katsuki’s hand as your pup made it’s way to the world.

Katsuki walked in, his eyes drinking the sight of the pup in your arms with awe, it’s like he was falling all over again.

He walked in and sat beside you as you cooed at the little bundle of joy, a tony baby girl, with flaming red eyes that glistened like the finest rubies, and little tufts of (h/c) hair, the hair he always adored and wanted for his kids. You looked at him with a bright smile, one he wouldn’t trade for the world, and beckoned him closer.

Bakugo held the baby girl in his arms, unable to keep the bubble of affection that sprouted in his heart, and gushed out of his eyes as his love overfilled. He gave her a peck on the forehead, then another just to memorise the soft texture of her skin before she grows up before his eyes.

He then walked to the empty space on the bed, then climbed up and put the pup next to you, careful about moving you lest he elicit pain from the procedure you just underwent.

He went to climb out, but paused when his pup held his finger in her hand, toying with it as she swung it left and right in her tiny arms. He couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face as he gazed at her tiny face curiously toying with his finger.

“Aw, she’s so perfect, isn’t she Katsuki ?” You gushed, purring at you baby girl as you caressed her head. Her eyes traveled up to your own hand, then her other hand went and grasped your own finger. She did the same to you as she did Katsuki, then with both of her occupied hands, she brought them together, making your finger touch Katsuki’s own larger one.

You gazed at her mindless actions with awe, both of you unable to take your fingers out of her toying hands and risk losing the contact. Her actions held so much meaning, like she was trying to communicate something despite you knowing it’s not true. Katsuki had a similar thought process. He decided to stop being a pussy and act like the Alpha he is.

“Well, if that’s what the pup wants, I guess you have no choice now.” He said. You looked back at the girl with love, then to Katsuki, and shrugged.

“Guess I have no choice, you’re lucky our baby girl decided to be your wing man.”

Giving Katsuki a chance to prove himself again seemed like the right choice.

Katsuki came closer to you, making you close your eyes as your lips joined in a familiar dance.

The little pup watched her parents curiously, her doe eyes staring at them in obliviousness as she resumed toying with their fingers.

............

And thats it, the end. I decided to publish this on here on a whim, so here we are, tho im gonna get to working on a masterlist in a bit. If you enjoyed this mini series and wish to buy me a coffee, my kofi is T_Spice.

#bnha fanfiction #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki fanfics #bakugou katsuki fanfiction #bakugou katsuki #alpha!bakugo #omega!reader #omegaverse #fantasy!bnha #bnha fanfics

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astroprojections101 · 4 years

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The Signs as Characters from ‘BRIDESMAIDS’

Annie Walker - Taurus

Bridesmaids is a hilarious and groundbreaking female-driven comedy about addiction and friendship, two things Tauruses know how to do very well. They are loyal and committed people whose reputation as the most boring sign of the zodiac is forgiven for also being the best friends you will ever find on this fucking planet, and they KNOW this dammit!! They wear their friendships like purple hearts, but it also means they can easily get stuck in a rut and indulge in self-destructive habits like fucking terrible people and matching red shoes with red nail polish when the waves get rough. Not to mention it could take years (or a very messy rock bottom) before these bulls get the wake up call they need to make a positive change in their lives, as evidenced by Annie failing to do any of this until Melissa McCarthy literally bites her in the ass while watching Castaway, a movie I am SURE she has seen at least five times.

They can also be territorial and possessive. While Annie may seem like that down-to-earth, low-maintenance girl who side eyes women that wear $8,000 evening gowns to an afternoon engagement party, on the inside she is a red-faced toddler crossing her arms and stamping her feet because Mom won’t let her play with the iPad. Or, in this case, because her best friend since CHILDHOOD (seriously, who still has friends from childhood? TAURUSES, bitches! + people from the Midwest) is getting married and has, like many grown ass adults sometimes do, ~made another friend~. Suddenly, Annie is forced to, without prior knowledge or consent, confront the bull’s biggest fear: change. Which is a big fat scary no no for a masochistic Taurus who would rather pursue subpar fucks than make baked goods with an emotionally literate Scottish bae. Tauruses like Things As They Are even when they don’t, and Annie Walker is no exception. We stan a true Taurus queen.

Sorry, Libras. Branding the antagonist of the movie as one may seem counterintuitive for a sign whose entire identity revolves being nice and fair to EVERYONE and liking EVERYONE and getting along with EVERYONE, but that’s exactly why Helen Harris III wins the coveted title of Passive Aggressive Shithead Who Reminds You of 30% Of Your High School: everyone loves her, everyone wants to be her, and who can blame them? As a wise Jeff Winger once said, nerds go to space to impress the people who wore leather jackets in high school.

And Helen Harris is beautiful. She can pull off wearing an $8,000 evening gown to an afternoon engagement party (almost) without coming off like an asshole. Helen Harris can book spontaneous bridal salon fittings. Helen Harris could eat that fucking cookie (Annie could never). Even if it means gaslighting a woman out of a wedding party, getting bullied by bratty white kids or marrying David Wallace, Libras don’t know who they are without the bliss of knowing their personal brand of outward bullshit is loved and admired by all, even if that means suppressing their true feelings until their next tennis sesh at the Milwaukee country club. Helen proves this when she ugly cries to a woman she socially tormented for the better part of a year, and also proves this when she arranges for Annie’s emotionally literate Scottish bae to pick her up after the wedding. You can’t convince me otherwise.

Lillian - Virgo

It’s easy to put Virgos in that Friends Who Have Their Shit Together box, even if underneath that facade they are literally dying inside. But this is what I love about Lillian, who is yes, obviously a Virgo. Lillian is getting married to the man she loves. She curated a bridal party that genuinely knows and loves her. She gets someone like Helen to simp for her. So yes, she is that classic Virgo who doesn’t judge you for not having your shit together but also would never, ever forgive herself for sinking that low.

But Lillian also manages to laugh when she comes out wearing that Abominable Snowman of a wedding dress. She shits on the street and lives to tell the tale. She is able to make hard choices and set boundaries with her best friend. Lillian doesn’t judge people out of insecurity, because she knows who she is and accepts it.

I’d like to think there is a Virgo out there, punishing herself because she applied to three jobs instead of two that day, who sees a Lillian and realizes there is a future where she can be a #BossBitch without committing her entire life to proving it to herself and others. I’d like to think there’s a Virgo out there who sees Lillian and realizes she doesn’t have to let her friend copy her homework answers for the fourth consecutive math test because no, she isn’t responsible for her lazy friend’s inability to study ahead of time. Lillian is the representation Virgos desperately need - not just because she is a badass woman, but because she is happy. She is a role model for all of us, and you can’t get more Virgo than that.

Megan - Aries

This was a hard one. On the one hand, Megan is weird. But let’s be real, an Aquarius could never be entrusted with the codes to every nuke buried underneath the United States. They would take those codes and use it to yeet Mark Zuckerberg out of his 100 million dollar Palo Alto estate within the first hour of signing their W-2 form. No, Megan may be unapologetically Megan as shit, but it’s not because she’s an Aquarius. She’s bold, and forward, and unapologetically Aries.

Which is odd, considering that an Aries and a Taurus together is, well... an unlikely friendship combo. Both signs are strong-willed and stubborn as hell, but in a way that makes them want to declare war on each other’s egos, not inspire the other into becoming better people. But then again, maybe that’s why their friendship works. Where Annie throws an empty compliment at an overdressed woman she’s already decided she hates, Megan expresses a desire to climb a man five minutes upon meeting Annie. Where Annie sits on a couch watching Castaway instead of addressing her issues the way 35 year old women probably should have learned to do by now, Megan bites ass and reminds her of this this. Where Annie HOLDS IN VOMIT UNTIL SHE HAS DRIVEN MILES AWAY FROM A BRIDAL SALON, Megan shits right into that refurbished marble sink without a second thought. Get where I’m going with this? Megan does what Annie doesn’t, which sometimes is exactly what a Taurus needs to get out of their rut of self-pity. But of course, Megan doesn’t just exist to provide emotional labor to lazy Earth signs. She is an individual truly living her best life, and we love for her for it. Aries women slap like no other.

Rita - Scorpio

Brutally honest and a sexual goddess. What more can you expect from an unhappily married Scorpio? Rita is bold, sexy, and dramatic, who knows how to pack the punches so quick and dirty she can turn a Disney-obsessed woman child into a drunken bisexual as she sips her martini on a first class ticket she bought with her asshole of a husband’s tax fraud money. After all, who else besides a Scorpio would tell a woman she hasn’t seen since high school that her very own flesh and blood masturbated a blanket into oblivion? Scorpios are dark, brooding, and know when they are being taken for granted. Nowhere is this better exemplified than when Rita spills the piping hot tea on her shitty family that can’t see her for the goddess she truly is. Rita, you deserve better.

Becca - Pisces

Erin Kemper has a long history of playing maladaptively naive characters, but I will bet my next unemployment check that Erin based her performance of Becca entirely off a Pisces description she found on Cafeastrology.com. Because there is literally nothing more Pisces than Becca. The hair, the clothes, the willingness to go through hospital levels of self-sanitization for her husband so that she can finally bone? Trying to convince herself she’s also too tired so that she doesn’t have to admit to herself that her husband is an emotionally and sexually unavailable failure of a man who can’t give her what she needs until she experiences a sexual awakening 2,000 miles up in the air with her Scorpio biffle??? Yup. Pisces to a P.

Rhodes - Cancer

Aww, Rhodes. So sweet. So awkward. Why did they have to make you a cop?

Can we talk about why it is that almost every leading man who is emotionally mature and secure in his masculinity ALWAYS seems to elicit Cancerous vibes, even if they’re clearly not a Cancer? Actual Cancer men, take note. Rhodes pursues respectfully. He calls, even after Annie doesn’t call back. Rhodes attempts exposure therapy on a woman he has had sex with once. Rhodes WOULD get ghosted by 80% of the women he meets on dating apps (including Annie, let’s be real), and we love him for it. Because cancers are just that loving and loyal! So yes, we can excuse him for getting a stick up his butt sometimes when someone drops a perfectly biodegradable vegetable on the ground. He more than makes up for it.

Annie’s mom - Gemini

Geminis are either terrible or the best people you’ll ever meet, and Annie’s mom is one of the rare few that falls into that in-between category of chaotic good, adorable Gemini doing her best not to drive everyone she’s ever loved away with what little self-awareness she has about her Gemininess. Annie’s mom is bubbly, chatty, and queen of the chisme. She uses logic to justify calling her ex husband’s wife a whore, and talks like she has a doctorate degree in the unsolicited advice she offers her daughter. Until at least, she’s introduced to a sweet man, and all that logic and wordiness melts away into a gooey puddle of all those emotions she likes to think she’s above.

Bryn - Aquarius

There are a lot of stand out heroines in this movie, but none of them beat the comedic genius that is Bryn, an incestuous roommate Annie probably dug up from Craiglist’s seventh circle of hell. Aquari are trail blazing, unconventional, and friendly enough to distract you from the fact that their brain cells came from aliens. Bryn is no exception. Even an impulsive Aries would look at the opportunity to get an offensively tacky tattoo in the back of a van and think, “I’ll get Starbucks instead.” But an Aquarius thrives on making people uncomfortable with their Society Has To Catch Up To Me complex, and Bryn is no exception. After all, if they’re not scandalizing their depressed roommate with xenophobic tattoos and baths with their brother, then who even are they? A sheep, that’s who.

13 year old - Sagittarius

This specific breed of popular mean girl is either a Gemini or Sagittarius. I have nothing to back up this claim, but watching that horrible girl verbally spar her way into getting a 35 year old woman fired from a jewelry store is enough to turn me into a believer. That’s why it was so hard to pinpoint a sign for her. On one hand, this girl is probably responsible for the social anxiety of at least a dozen ex-BFFs. She also clearly knows how to use words to make someone wish they had never been born, so I can accept that this insecure adult’s worst nightmare has a few placements of mercurial badassery in her chart.

But the truth hurts, and no one knows how to finesse the truth like a Sag, who either doesn’t know what they’re doing when they tell a customer service rep they have no boobs, or they know exactly. Anyway, don’t project your friendship drama onto an undeveloped Sagittarius child, Annie. Or tell them they’re going to be pregnant at their prom (yikes). You do not know what you’re getting yourself into.

Annie’s Mystery Man - Capricorn

The sports jacket. The pipe. The vibes. This guy probably cured cancer back in the day and still hated himself for not figuring it out until he was 30. You could also totally tell he was sizing Annie up to see if she met his expectations of People Worth His Time (she didn’t). Capricorn man, you are right. None of us deserve you. RIP Hugh Dane.

#astrology #zodiac #bridesmaids #taurus #aries #gemini #scorpio #signsas

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