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I made you gameboy compatible.
Ohhhh my gawd girl W H A T I fucking love this 🥺🥺🥺
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mochie85 · 1 year
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Poker Face
These Wicked Games Collection | Complete Masterlist
Summary: Will you win a game of strip poker against the god of mischief? A/N: A special cameo of my dear friend. Word Count: 1.7K Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Warnings: Explicit. No details of smut, but heavily implied. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics
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Loki looked around the table trying to stifle his smirk from giving him away. He had a great hand – a winning hand. All he needed to do now was bait you in and he would win.
Rogers and Barnes had shown him how to play Texas Hold’em. They needed a third player as their usual playing mates were out on a mission. Things got more interesting when the women decided to join and turned it into ‘strip poker.’
Loki kept his cards face down on the velvet green table and placed his hands behind his head waiting for everyone else.
You knew that look. That pompous I-have-a-trick-up-my-sleeve look. You knew all his looks. His tired look. His hungry look. His annoyed look. Right now, he thinks he’s going to win.  You watched him stretch, his shirt untucking, riding up to give you a peek at what you could be winning tonight.
Nearly everyone was on their last piece of clothing. Steve and Bucky were now in their boxers, having negotiated that each sock was one piece of clothing. Nat was in a white undershirt that barely hid the dark pink dusting of her nipples underneath.
Vision wasn’t allowed to play because he would count cards and calculate the odds in his head. Instead, he opted to hold Andrea, the new computer engineer Tony hired, in his lap as she happily lost each round. One by one, a piece of her clothing came off and Vision had to hide her body strategically, making you think she was losing on purpose.
You and Loki were the only ones who were fully clothed. You kept your head low and played safe up until now, letting the others lose their bets and hands. Your father would be damn proud of you.
“Geez, Loki. You have a horrible tell. I know you’ve got a winning hand,” Natasha said as she took a gulp of her beer. “I fold.”
“Ya, work on that poker face, buddy,” Bucky groaned. “I fold. I’m not losing my boxers.”
“I fold too,” Steve said.
“I can’t fold,” Drea said, smiling.
“That’s because you have nothing left, darling.” Vision said as his grip on her tightened.
“Well, my dear, that just leaves you and me,” Loki said in a smoldering voice. If you didn’t lose this hand, you would’ve taken off your clothes anyway just by the way he looked at you.  His deep voice caressed you from across the table, making you squeeze your legs tighter together. “What do you say we up the ante? Last play for all your clothes.”
“Don’t you mean all your clothes, Laufeyson? You forget that I have a Las Vegas past.” You fired back, as resounding ‘oohs’ and heckles came from everyone else.
“All right. Bet.” He smiled.
“If I win, you take off all your clothes, Laufeyson. Including the next time we play poker, whether it’s strip poker or not. You will play naked - as the day you were born. No matter who else is playing.” You arrogantly raised your chin, calling out his bluff. His smile grew wide, reaching from ear to ear.
“And If I win, dear pet, not only will you strip down, but then I want you to walk your pretty little arse down the hall to my room and we can continue our own little game.” Gasps and jeers were heard all around the table as Loki finally admitted to some semblance of an attraction towards you. How genuine that attraction was, or how deep those feelings went, was still a mystery.
“Now hold on just a minute, Loki,” Steve said being protective of you.
“No, no. It’s ok, Steve. I accept.” You steeled your nerves and looked into Loki’s swirling eyes. Your body shook visibly, feeling his stare reach past your clothes and stroke your waiting skin underneath.
You looked down at the table where four cards were laid out. They were clubs, a 10, a 9, and an 8. Then there was the queen of diamonds. You had a King and a Jack of clubs. You already had a great hand with a flush, matching the suit to all five cards. But if that last card turned out to be a 7 or a Queen of clubs, you’d win with a straight flush.
But what did Loki have? Would his hand be better than yours? Would that last card help you or condemn you?
“Are you both ready?” Nat asked, burning a card and readying to turn the last card down onto the river. You looked into his eyes, deep and promising as you both nodded. Nat turned the card over and placed it on the table.
It was the queen of clubs.  
You took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. Loki’s eyes turned deadly as he turned his hand face up. An 8 of spades and the queen of hearts. “I believe that I have a full house,” he prodded, misinterpreting your sigh as a sign of defeat. Everyone’s mouth hung open in shock at his assertion.
He leaned back onto his chair and placed his hands behind his head. A proud grin on his face. “Go on love, show everybody what I’ll be playing with later.”
His comment bristled your edges. He was so arrogant. So cocky. You’re going to relish taking him down a notch. Everyone silently watched with shock and awe as you stood up with your poker face still on.
Loki’s eyes changed into pools of desire as you decided to play with his emotions a little bit more. You traced the hem of your shirt, pinching it and scrunching it up in your fist.
His greedy eyes followed the movements of your hands as you reached for your cards and turned them face up. “A king and a jack of clubs. A straight flush. Which beats your full house.” The last part of your sentence was drowned out by the screams and yells of everyone at the table.
Surprised by the turn of events, Steve, Bucky, and Vision couldn’t stop laughing. Drea and Nat just sat there and whistled as they leered at Loki to start taking his clothes off.
Loki’s eyes were full and round- devastated that he had lost. He looked up at you, at your gorgeous playful face. That angelic smile that had him enraptured from the moment he laid his eyes on you, caught his breath. He was stunned.
It wasn’t until Bucky jostled him out of his reverie that he took a lungful of air. “You gotta do it now, man,” Bucky said, laughing at him.
Loki’s smile grew wicked as he stood up and looked straight into your eyes. “My pleasure,” he ground out, making your skin flush at his promise.
He wouldn’t stop staring at you. Not when he pulled his scarf down one side and threw it in your direction. Not when he started to unbutton his shirt, painfully slow. His grin growing wider with every button. You watched as his hands trailed down onto his belt and the sharp clank of metal resounded in your ears.
“Should we leave? I feel like I’m watching something intimate,” Steve whispered to Vision and Drea.
“You can leave if you want to. I’m getting my free show,” Nat said finishing her beer.
Loki had all but taken off his shirt, socks, and shoes. All that was left were his pants. His thumbs hooked into them, watching your reaction as he pushed them down revealing all his godly glory.
A resounding “OHH!” could be heard from everyone else as Loki stood there in front of you naked. His sculpted body was on display as your eyes took in all the details that they could remember. His wide shoulders, his defined abs, and the ‘V’ of his Adonis Belt leading your stare to his semi-erect cock.
“Do you like what you see, pet? Anything I can offer you later?” He asked with a proud smile.
“All right. All right. Put your clothes back on. I think we should all call it a night. I’m done,” Steve said.
“Awe boo, Cap.” Nat leered, getting up and gathering her clothes. Bucky laughed and followed her into the bar as he struggled to get his jeans back on.
Loki flicked his hands. In a flash, all his clothes were back on and put into place, immaculately.
“Why didn’t you just do that in the first place?” you asked, still watching him.
“Because I wanted to give you a show,” he winked, and he strode off down the hallway towards his bedroom.
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Not long after, the compound had gotten dark and silent. The remnants of the game you all had played earlier are gone. The table was dismantled, and the cards were put away.
Your soft feet patted down the hallway and stopped in front of Loki’s door. You raised your hand to knock, but the door slightly opened to reveal a sliver of yellow light coming through. You pushed the door open, taking that as an invitation to go in.
Loki was sitting in front of his fireplace, a book in hand that he thumped shut as he took you in shutting his door behind you.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you grace my bedroom?”
“You reneged on our deal.” You said confidently. Loki looked confused as he ran by the terms of the bet earlier.
“I don’t think so, darling. The bet was, that if I lost, I would be the one to strip down naked. And I did.”
“What was the next part, Loki?” you whispered. His name on your lips sent a shiver down his spine, making him visibly tremble. You held his name on your tongue. Your breath invoking it like a prayer.
“The next caveat was that the next game of poker I played, no matter who I was with, I would have to play stripped as well.” He recited as a gleam in his eyes sparkled at your mischief. You took out a deck of cards from your back pocket and proceeded to shuffle them in your hand.
“Care for a game of poker, my prince?”
He bit his lips at your words. “With pleasure,” he smiled as he got up to unbutton his shirt.
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⬅️ These Wicked Games Collection | Chapter 2: The Chase ➡️
@alexs1200 @a-witch-with-words @athalialaufeyson @britishserpent @cakesandtom @crimson25 @el-zef @fictive-sl0th @gigglingtigger @glitterylokislut @goldencherriess @holymultiplefandomsbatman @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @immersed-in-mischief @kellatron55 @kikster606 @kkdvkyya @lokidbadguy @lokiprompts @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @lokischambermaid @lokyxryss @loopsisloops @lucylaufeyson3 @luvlady-writes @michelleleewise @mischief2sarawr @muddyorbs @nopenottodayson @one-oblivious-nerd @ozymdias @peaches1958 @salempoe @sarahscribbles @sarawr-reads @silverfire475 @springdandelixn @theaudacitytowrite @thedistractedagglomeration @thomase1 @user13cabs @vickie5446 @vbecker10 @wheredafandomat @xorpsbane  
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liminalpebble · 5 months
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If you’re up for something fluffy and/or lighthearted fun - like a month ago I gave another writer I’m following this idea but she‘s been gone since then and I would still love it 🥺
I was in the mood for a Lokitty Fic because it’s been a while and for whatever reason I’min the mood:D If it’s gonna be more fluffy, funny or even angsty is up to you 🫶
Basic idea was Loki disguised as a cat 🐈‍⬛ has been hiding from something/someone in our home. Without him realizing until he’s already in too deep, he starts to fall for us and the way we care for him. Not part of his plan. He hadn’t intended to reveal his identity and surely couldn’t do it now after basically misleading us the whole time.
But what’s been escaping him since as well - we absolutely know. 🤭
A/N: Hey friend! Thanks for this very sweet and fluffy prompt. I accidentally seemed to have made it a multiparter and I have no idea where this is going except definitely to fluff town, and the comfort district. I guess stay tuned? WTF am I even doing??
Much love,
Peb
--
Stray: Part 1
Masterlist link
The rain was tumbling down in heavy sheets as you made your way from the train to your apartment. By now you'd just about memorized how many steps were left from the soaked platform to your door.
The thought depressed you a little, realizing how long you've felt stuck in this life; just another shop girl in the city, a uniform and an apron with a tired person behind it. As the cold water continued to hit you, you were glad to realize the number of steps to the lobby door was finally reaching single digits and picked up your pace in one last jolt of momentum.
Then you heard it; an almost imperceptible mewling under the incessant drumming of the storm. You turned, following the faint noise until you reached the alley and the giant dumpsters housed there. The stench was awful. You held your soaked apron over your nose as you peaked into the crevice. Two of the biggest, most beautiful, aquamarine eyes stared back at you from a void of soaked black fur. It was a cat, and it was absolutely screaming now, realizing it had someone's attention.
It's not like you'd never seen an alley cat before. There were swarms of them around, but there was just something about this one, something so desperately in need of love. The little guy seemed almost confused to be in this position whereas the other strays seemed to resign themselves to their shitty fate.
You braced yourself; tried to talk yourself out of what you knew you were about to do and had never ever done before. It would be incredibly stupid. You weren't even allowed to have pets. You didn't even know if he was sick and you would never have the money to take him to the vet. Regardless, you sighed and scooped the pathetic little creature up, swaddling him in your apron, as you hurried toward the front door. Huffing, you warned him, “Okay buddy, but I swear to god, you better not have rabies.”
-----
Loki was glad to finally be out of the rain and stench, even if it was in a less than ideal form. Several hours earlier he had landed with a crash, cushioned by the heaps of debris. He scoffed realizing his neat black suit and tie and the crisp white shirt were now utterly ruined. His sunglasses were nowhere to be found. The money; all that money that came with him as he dove out of the plane was now safely magicked away, at least.
He groaned pitifully. A fall like that coupled with a mid-air tussle with Thor was enough to floor the younger god, though he hated to admit it. And who was Thor to come after him anyway? This whole D.B. Cooper heist was his fault...all because of that idiotic bet. Loki probably would have laid there feeling very sorry for himself a good deal longer, but he heard the lonely patter of someone running toward him through the downpour. He had to admit he needed help, and it was time for some quick scheming to get it. Good thing this was always his forte.
He had barely accustomed himself to his new feline form and begun mewling loudly when he heard your footfalls slow and watched your shadow move down the alley.
Come on. He thought, imbuing it with the hint of an enchantment. Come find me, mortal.
Loki was incredibly pleased with himself and, frankly, a bit surprised that his ploy worked so easily. Such dull creatures, mortals...such soft hearts., he mused as he dozed in your arms. He was already barely conscious when he heard you quip, “Okay buddy, but I swear to god, you better not have rabies.”
Hey! Rude, he thought, attempting to give a menacing, insulted glare, but it only came out as a grimacing twitch of his whiskers and whining, grumpy, growl.
The human smiled a reluctant little grin and tussled his fur saying, “It's a good thing you're adorable.”
I'm not adorable! I am a god, you dull creature! , he screamed in his mind, but it only left his mouth as another pathetically cute whine.
---
In your bathroom you clipped your wet hair up one-handed and kept the little creature bundled against your chest. Once your hand was free you tested temperature of the bath with a wiggle of your fingers.
Satisfied, you said, “Alright friend,” holding the cat under his armpits and meeting his eyes, as if you could appeal to his sense of logic. “You stink. I have to give you a bath. You can either except your fate with dignity or you can be a little shit and claw my eyes out. I beg you to accept your fate.”
He thought to himself, Why wouldn't I want a bath? I love baths, you idiot. Now clean me, mortal. I tire of....
“Mrewwoooow!” he screamed as soon as his paw hit the warm water. He surprised you and himself as you both flinched violently. Apparently Loki was unable to resist his new feline aversion to water. Okay...okay...this is new. He mused.
“Okay....Christ! Listen here, you little shit! You can either deal with this while I scrub you down with some Herbal Essences, or you can smell like dumpster juice.”
“Meow”
“Yeah. I know...I know it's not the right thing for cats. I know I should take you to the vet first. I know this is not fucking ideal. I'm...I'm doing my best,” you said, with an unexpected hitch in your throat and slightly-welling eyes, as suddenly you both realized you weren't just talking about the bath anymore.
Loki felt an emotion he couldn't quite categorize; one he seldom felt, one others might call sympathy. So he fought his instinct with all his might and remained quiet and while you carefully washed and rinsed his fur. You smiled as your careful hands cleaned every last patch. “Thank you,” you said softly.
My pleasure, he thought, and meant it. It actually did feel very nice to be clean, and if felt even better when you dried him, and wrapped him in a warm towel in front of the space heater, with one bowl of water, and one of tuna. By the time you had showered and settled next to him on the floor in your pajamas, he already had a full belly and was drifting off again in the pleasant warmth. You sipped your tea and stroked his now very glossy and soft black fur.
“See! You're such a handsome boy now that you don't look and smell like wet trash bag. That wasn't so bad, was it?”
From where his head rested on his delicately crossed paws he lazily opened one stunning eye to glare at you menacingly, but it only made you chuckle.
As you laughed and smiled down at him, stroking his fur, he felt something else he couldn't quite name; gratitude, certainly, but also something else...something like wanting desperately to see you smile as much as possible...something like hoping that sorrow he saw a glimpse of before wouldn't eat you alive...something like just wanting you to be okay regardless of the benefit to himself.
The next time he half-awoke in the night, you were gone and the lights were out, though you had left the space-heater on for him. With his now-amplified hearing, he listened for you, anxious to know you were still there. Only once he heard the gentle undulation of your sleeping breath could he relax into dreams again and wonder what tomorrow would bring.
@mischief2sarawr @ladyofthestayingpower @acidcasualties @unlucky-number-13 @goblingirlsarah @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokihiddleston @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @marcotheflychair @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @littlespaceyelf @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @eleniblue @loz-3 @the-haven-of-fiction @sweetsigyn @muddyorbs @icytrickster17 @holdmytesseract @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @sailorholly @peachyjinx @coldnique @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @infinitystoner @mischiefmaker615 @coldnique @jennyggggrrr @tripleyeeet @itsybitchylittlewitchy @mochie85
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lokisgoodgirl · 18 days
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Once you get this, you have to say five things you like about yourself, publicly. Then you have to send this to ten of your favourite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool~) 🌈🌈
Awww this is so sweet! (≧ヮ≦) 💕 Thank you my darling!
1) My imagination
2) My resilience
3) My eyebrows
4) Being able to find silver linings
5) Being comfortable in my skin
Tagging some lovelies to hear those wonderful self-cheerleads ❤️ @maple-seed @holdmytesseract @mrs-illyrian-baby @fictive-sl0th @starkzdaughter @simplyholl @mochie85 @ladyofthestayingpower @mochie85 @gigglingtiggerv2 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @justjoanne242 @goblingirlsarah @mischief2sarawr @muddyorbs ++ anyone who feels like it! Why not :)
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btsugarush · 3 months
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Some of y’all give old pervert living in their mom’s basement vibes. Like y’all be sweating to read some smut. I keep saying this but y’all are missing braincells or something; I have a life outside of here. Y’all are not paying me by the hour to write and I do not post shit on y’all timing. I’ll post whatever the fuck I want on my blog, and it’ll get started at whatever time, day, year I decide to start it. I will eat y’all tf up every time when you come to my asks feeling entitled.
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dragongirl-brev · 7 months
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What are the best places to pet a dragon?
By far the safest place to pet a dragon, if you don't fully trust them, is to sit on their back and rub their sides
If you trust the dragon not to bite, rubbing their head and snout feels amazing and most will rest their big heavy head in your lap for easier scritching. Some dragons (me) purr during this
If the dragon trusts you they will let you pet their fragile bits, like their tumny. A dragon's underbelly is warm and soft, and you can put your hands together, palms flat against it, and vigorously rub up and down. This is very soothing to the dragon and once they're happy and sleepy you can snuggle up to them and have a nap together.
A dragon's most fragile bits are their wings, and you'll have to be gentle, but they're also very sensitive. A gentle hand running up and down the wing, along the ridge of bone that keeps their shape, and then back over the wing will have the dragon stretching out and crooning in no time.
there's also horny places to pet a dragon but that's another question altogether
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lone-nyctophile · 1 month
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Is it expecting too much to ask for understanding and compassion from people?
It's actually the bare minimum, which is unfortunately hard to find.
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letraspal · 2 months
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your snowbaz art got me to read the simon snow series and I AM HOOKED
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My job here is done
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baronessblixen · 8 months
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I love reading fan fics but the only site i known are AO3, The nursery Files, i love the content but there’s another site where i can read fics?
I love ur fics 🤍 in AO3
Glad you're enjoying fic reading so much 😊
You should check out Gossamer because it has plenty of fic. It hasn't been updated in many years, but you'll find many classics and amazing stories there.
Does anyone have any more links?
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dimplesandfierceeyes · 6 months
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Don't know if u r still taking bad buddy prompts. But if u r, high school patpran teaching kissing or practicing kissing and Pat realizing his feelings and getting together.
OP.
OP OP OP.
How did you know?
How did you know this was my weakness?
Anyway, when this prompt came in the whole plot basically appeared in my head fully formed and all I needed was the time to make it real. I hope you all enjoy!
~~~
Practice Makes Perfect
(I know, I know, the least original title ever)
Pran wasn’t sure when it had become an unspoken rule that they would meet in his bedroom. He guessed it made sense. Pat’s family was nosy; they walked in and out of each other’s bedrooms unannounced and didn’t seem to like doing anything alone if they could drag another person into it too. Still, every time Pat was in his room, Pran’s heart rate skyrocketed with anxiety. (Only anxiety, definitely only anxiety.)
Pat was here again, all lanky-limbed six-foot of him sprawled over Pran’s bed like he was entitled to it. He’d grown again. Up until last year they’d been neck-and-neck for height but this year, Pran had slowed down and Pat, annoyingly, hadn’t. Not only that, but his shoulders were getting broader too whilst Pran’s stayed stubbornly slim, just like his mae’s. Not for the first time, Pran wished he’d inherited more of his father’s easy musculature.
“So we just gotta watch the scene and answer these questions right?” Pat asked, staring at the sheet he was holding in front of him. He was lying on his stomach, propped up on his elbows so he could screen while Pran had claimed the desk chair.
“Yes.” 
“Oh, cool! That’s easy.” 
They were working on literature homework: the interpretations of play adaptation. This was the second version of this play they were watching and the questions were mostly about drawing comparisons. Pran clicked on the file the teacher had uploaded and blinked as a thumbnail popped up showing two male characters.
“I thought this was supposed to be the kiss scene?” Pat questioned. “Has the teacher uploaded the wrong file?”
“I don’t think so. Nobody else has said it was a different scene,” Pran replied. He was still staring at the screen, his heart pumping so much faster than it should have been as he considered the only other possibility. 
“So basically it’s a BL version,” Pat laughed.
“I guess.” Pran furiously told his heart there was no difference between watching a straight kissing scene with Pat or watching a BL one. It didn’t listen.
“Alright, let’s get started, I guess.”
Pran had never wished for his parents to get home early from the weekly shop but it turned out there really was a first time for everything. Unfortunately, no engine noise rumbled up to the front gate and Pran was forced to accept that this was, in fact, happening. 
He could barely pay attention to the questions on the sheet of paper in front of him, though he spent as much time as he could staring down at it as the men on the screen danced around each other, feeling the other out, before finally shattering the tension, reaching for each other as if starving. Pran had watched the exact same scene in class between a man and a woman without even blinking. Now he was hot all over, hyper aware of Pat lying on his bed behind him watching two men kiss on his computer screen, and he could only hope that his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt they should be. 
The end of the scene couldn’t come soon enough.
“Okay,” Pran said as professionally as he could manage, lifting his sheet in the air to show he meant business as he quarter-turned in his chair so he had his profile to Pat. 
“What do you think it’s like for the actors? To kiss a guy, I mean,” Pat chimed in with his usual inability to not send Pran’s mind into chaos. 
“Pretty much like kissing a girl,” Pran replied tightly, lifting his sheet a little higher. It was once again ignored.
“Do you think it is? Just the same as a kissing a girl? I think it would be different.”
“Why would it be different? They’re both just people.” Pran replied, unable to believe he was actually locked into this conversation.
“I don’t know,” Pat shrugged. “Have you ever done it? Kissed a guy?” 
Pran barely managed not to choke on his own saliva. “Wh-What business is that of yours?” 
Pat’s eyes went as round as saucers, his mouth dropping open. “Wait, you have?”
“I didn’t say that,” Pran replied rapidly but he could see it was already too late.
“Holy shit, you have! Why didn’t you tell me?” If a tone of voice could be a pout, Pat’s would have been a prime example.
“Why would I tell you that?”
“Who was it?”
“Why would I tell you that either?”
“You know all the girls I’ve kissed,” Pat complained.  
Unfortunately, Pran thought to himself. “It’s not like I ever asked for that information.”
Pat ignored the jibe, steamrolling over it. “So, was it? Was it different from kissing a girl?”
“None!” Pran replied spitefully, despite having never kissed a girl.
“Oh,” Pat looked disappointed. “Not at all?”
“What sort of difference should there be?” Pran asked, exasperated. 
“I don’t know, it just feels like there would be.” Pat frowned for a second before suddenly his expression released and he looked at Pran like he’d just thought of something. Pran got a sharp and defined sense of foreboding. “What if we tried it?”
“What?” Pran squeaked.
“I mean, I know you didn’t think there was a difference, but maybe it would be different for me,” Pat reasoned. 
"And this is my problem, how?" Pran managed to force out as his entire body launched into a state of panic hitherto only observed in mice fleeing a hungry cat. 
"Oh, come on," Pat whined in a way that was terrifyingly close to the way that had wheeled Pran into truly remarkable levels of trouble several times. "It's not like I'd be your first guy; I'd just be your second! It's not like it's special or anything."
"What kind of logic is that? Then I'd-I'd be your first!"
"I don't mind," Pat replied with a shrug and Pran's mind gurgled. 
He knew he had to say no, that if he kept just pointing out problems Pat would just keep countering them. But then he’d be saying no. To Pat kissing him.
“Come on, what do you want?” Pat asked, sounding exasperated.
“What?”
“I know you’re just stretching it out because you want me to agree to lose at something in return.”
“I don’t need you to agree to lose; I can make you lose any day.” Pran replied automatically. Pat rolled his eyes.
“Just name your terms, Parakul.”
Pran flung out an idea from the void. “The next rugby match. If I’m close to the goal post, find a way to fumble the ball to me.”
Pat frowned, brow furrowing as if in dilemma, before huffing dramatically. “Fine. The next match is yours.”
Pran’s already abused heart was electrocuted by the words, now hammering at double the speed. He’d agreed. He might not have actually said the words, but he’d agreed to let Pat kiss him. He didn’t know if he was a genius or insane. 
Pat seemed to be waiting for something and it took Pran a second to realise it was for him to walk over to the bed. His mind rebelled the idea, it felt too much like a capitulation to be the one to move. And what if he looked eager? He couldn’t bear the thought.
“I’m not going to you,” he said as dismissively as he could manage. “You were the one who wanted to see how different it was.”
Another huff was released and then Pat rolled his eyes so dramatically his whole head got involved in the action, but he did start to lift himself off the bed. 
Pran only realised what a mistake he’d made when Pat was already looming in front of him. Then Pat was leaning forwards and Pran was caged in, one of Pat’s hands on the desk next to him to steady himself and the other reaching for Pran’s cheek. It found it with a gentleness that was foreign, strange. Pran’s lungs pulled in short, sharp breaths through his nose as Pat’s long fingers settled around his ear and he was pinned by Pat’s uncertain gaze.
He waited for him to call it off, convinced that this alone would be enough to make Pat retreat, that he would pull back, laugh, shake his head, proclaim how weird it was, but instead… instead…
Instead Pat’s eyes fell shut and his head tilted and he bowed lower and lower until his lips made contact with Pran’s. The touch was soft but without hesitation, lips slipping open to catch Pran’s between them. Then, already, they were pulling away, leaving Pran’s mouth cold and wanting. Pran flicked his eyes open, not sure even when he’d closed them, and watched as Pat opened his own, slow and unfocused.
“You call that a kiss?” The question was supposed to be scathing, mocking, anything that brought them back to their status quo, but Pran’s voice was suddenly hoarse and breathless, as though he hadn’t spoken in weeks and his throat was parched. 
There was no hiding the want in every syllable.   
“What would you call it?” Pat asked. To Pran’s devastation, he sounded just as rough.
“Barely anything,” Pran replied, his voice half a whisper as adrenaline flooded through his veins. 
Because he knew what he was going to do next. 
And he knew there was no way of stopping himself even if he tried. 
As if the want inside of him had torn into his limbs, seizing control, his hand shot up and grabbed Pat by the back of his head. He dragged him down, no gentleness, no subtlety, no mercy. He ransacked Pat’s mouth like a thief ripping through a household, eager to take everything he could before occupants woke up. 
He didn’t expect Pat to fight back. 
There was no paralysed surprise, no frozen astonishment, Pat let him take and take and take and then stole it all back and more. His hand gripped at Pran’s hair, his teeth nipped and scraped over Pran’s lip, his tongue licked into Pran’s mouth like he wanted to own it. Pran could barely breathe under the onslaught, control slipping away from him as he tried to process the ferocity of Pat’s response. Then all the competition seemed to slip away and they were just kissing, kissing, kissing.
By the time they broke apart, they were both gasping for air. 
Pran looked up at Pat in astonishment, but Pat didn’t look back. His eyes were still closed, forehead bent against Pran’s forehead as he hauled oxygen into his lungs, like he was trying to fix the memory of their kiss in his head forever. The only sound in the entire room was their broken breathing.
Then he smiled, the single most beautiful and most ruinous smile Pran had ever seen, before he opened his eyes. He tilted his head as he grinned down at Pran like they were sharing a secret. Pran felt his mouth respond in kind and Pat’s gaze dipped down, catching on his lips before dragging back up.
Instinctively, deliberately, somewhere in between, Pran’s eyeline dropped from Pat’s captivating gaze to his tempting mouth. His lips were red and puffy, shining with a hint of…
Me, Pran thought. That’s from me. 
And he looked back up in time just to see Pat lean back down and then he was being kissed again. He responded instantly, surging up to steal more of Pat’s taste, and somehow ended up standing, his hands in Pat’s hair. Pat’s arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, making Pran’s heart jolt as they were pressed together from hip to chest and Pat’s heat bled through their clothes. 
He’d never been this close to another person. Not even the only other boy he’d kissed, who’d sat next to him and kissed him awkwardly, neither of them entirely sure what they were doing. This—Pat—was something else entirely. He felt submerged in him, Pat on his tongue, on his skin, on his body, everywhere and anywhere, all at once, and he sank into him rapturously, a willing victim of his own drowning. 
Pat tugged and Pran followed, edging carefully, unhurriedly, across the floor as their mouths danced to a rhythm of their own making. Then Pat pulled away to drop down onto Pran’s bed, dragging Pran after him. Pran settled eagerly into his lap, unable to resist one little quip before bent his head to kiss him.
“In my bed already, Napat? Are you always this easy?”
“No, you’re just special,” Pat replied breathlessly and then Pran had to devour him. 
Pran didn’t know how long their fourth kiss lasted for but by the time they broke apart, the streetlights outside were turning a burnt umber and Pran’s lips were so sensitive they were tingling. He swallowed weakly, hands still twisted in Pat’s hair, hips almost bruised with Pat’s fingerprints.
 “So. Any differences?” he found himself asking. Pat chuckled breathlessly. 
“Just a few, yeah.” 
Pran smiled back at him, his lips almost sore but in a pleasant way as he curved them upwards. One of Pat’s thumbs had found its way under Pran’s shirt and was rubbing over the skin at the base of his waist. 
“Can we do this again?” Pat asked, eyes dropping to Pran’s mouth. “More than once? Can we do this many times?”
Pran laughed. “How often are you thinking?”
“I don’t know. Once a week? Once a day? Once an hour?” Pat grinned cheekily and Pran’s cheeks were going to ache from how broad his own smile was. 
“You’re gonna wake up every hour, are you?”
“It would be worth it.” That was too much for Pran. He closed his eyes, shaking his head as he laughed again.
“You’re so cheesy.” 
“Pran, I’m serious. I think we should date.” Pat continued earnestly, a smile still colouring his voice like a warm sunset.
Pran opened his eyes, wide and uncertain. Pat looked back at him candidly.
“Pat…That…”
"You don't want to?"
"I… didn't say that." 
Pat beamed, somewhere between delighted and smug and Pran shoved him backwards with more show than force. Pat faked falling anyway, tilting backwards dramatically before bouncing up with a grin. Pran tried not to be affected by it.
“If our parents found it, they would kill us,” he pointed out.
“Why would they need to find out? I sneak into your bedroom almost every week. They’ve never found that out, have they?” 
Pran loved how stubborn Pat was.
“We won’t be able to tell anyone. I mean, anyone. Not even Duke. Not even Pa.” 
“Is this you saying yes? Pran, are you saying yes to me?”
“Who said I’m saying yes,” Pran tried to sound aloof but it was hard when he was still straddling Pat’s lap and his hands had settled on Pat’s shoulders.
Pat’s smile spilled out over his entire face, eyes little more than curved lines as he laughed. “You are. You are saying yes,” Pat told him. Pran didn’t disagree.  
He also didn’t disagree when Pat said they should kiss again. 
~~~
Aaaand done. Don't think about what happens after the concert. @miscellar already made that mistake. Just don't do it yourself.
Anyway I hope you enjoyed it OP! And all the others that come across this mini fic! Look out for an actually edited version of this to appear on AO3 sometime soon....
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michelleleewise · 9 months
Note
Omg I LOVE your pfp 😍🩷
Eek!! Thank you so much!!!! It's one of the pics I made 😁😁💚💚
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This is one of my faves...... 😁😏
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edenesth · 2 months
Note
Ok ok picture this the reader is a psychologist, she’s living a difficult life with an abusive ex husband who has an restraining order on him, her life changes when she meets a new patient named Kim Hongjoong. He was sent there due to his violent and psychotic episodes resulting him being one of the most dangerous patients, his childhood wasn’t so great. He was moved from foster home to foster home only to get hurt mentally and emotionally. She knew deep down he’s one of the sweetest guys she’s ever known or if that’s what he WANTS her to think🤫
Girlie, you and another reader of mine should definitely be besties!
That's a very Joker and Harley Quinn concept, am I right? I just had another friend suggesting a similar idea but with Yunho as the protagonist HAHA damn, is this a sign from the heavens for me to try this concept next?😵
But thank you for this, baby! It's a wonderful idea that I'll definitely keep in the archives. For now, my goal is to focus on finishing up The Way to His Heart🫡❤️
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mochie85 · 1 year
Note
Thank you for opening up requests! 💖
I feel this prompt in my soul: “You don’t have to pretend with me.” And I could see it coming from Loki or the reader, or both.
Thanks! 💖
A Brave Face
1k Celebration Masterlist One-Shots Masterlist Complete Masterlist
Summary: Loki comforts you after one of Stark's exhausting parties. A/N: Part of my 1k Celebration Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: 903 Warnings: ALL Fluff, slight angst if you squint your eyes, the fic alludes to the reader being sick prior and had just recovered.
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Your cheeks were the ones that hurt the most. The constant smile you had to put on was draining. But you knew their incessant questions would be more work if you didn’t have it on.
The “Are you ok?” or, “How are you feeling?” or the ever-wonderful, “You’re such a champ. How do you do it?” always demanded more thought energy from you than necessary. You knew their hearts were in the right place, but it was exhausting trying to prove to them that you were fine. You were ok.
Really.
So faux-smile it was. You walked around the party like Lazarus, back from the dead. Like someone who had their life together, waiting for the opportune moment to hide out from the party and leave.
Your saving grace was your husband, Loki. He could tell when your smile was genuine. He knew because he made sure he was the recipient of most of them. He held your hand throughout the night and gave you someone to lean on when you got tired.
“Would, you like to leave now, darling?” he whispered in your ear.
“No. I’m ok,” you smiled up at him.
“You don’t have to pretend with me, love,” he said kissing the top of your head. “Let’s hurry before the Captain makes a speech about sacrifice and glory. You know he will likely go on forever,” he laughed in your hair, tickling your nerves, and making you giggle genuinely.
“Too late,” Natasha said coming up next to you. Her gaze made you both look up on stage as Roger’s stepped up to the podium, holding a glass of champagne.
Low groans could be heard sprinkled throughout the crowd. Most likely from team members who’ve been victimized by his straining speeches.
Steve was about to speak when Tony came up and patted him on the back. “I think what the good Captain was trying to say…”
“I haven’t said anything yet,” Steve said surprised.
“…is that’ we’re glad to have our friend back.” He raised his glass towards you as the spotlight moved in your direction and blinded your eyes. “Cheers, my friend to your health and speedy recovery.” He raised a glass and everyone else did the same.
You forced your smile just a little bit wider. Just a little bit happier, and waved to everyone. “Any reason for a party, eh Stark?!” you yelled out, making everyone laugh at your quip.
When the lights finally left you, you whispered a silent ‘thank you’ to Tony, and he nodded in return. “I think that’s our queue to leave,” Loki rubbed your back and led you out toward the private hallway to your quarters.
He intercepted greetings and well-wishers along the way for you as he guided you further and further into the private quarters of the team.
Once in your room, you let out the biggest sigh and launched yourself on the bed, almost falling onto the floor. “That was exhausting,” you muffled in the pillow. Loki came up behind you kneeling on the bed. Instinctively, you spread your legs apart at the thought of your godly husband behind you.
He reached for your foot and tried to untie the straps of your shoes. You tried to wiggle your foot away, but he held them with a firm grasp. Chuckling, he lightly twisted your leg to signal you to turn.
“Loki, you don’t have to do that. I can take them off myself,” you smiled. You turned your body over, as he placed your foot on his chest. He fingered the delicate straps of your heels, deftly taking them off.
“I know, but please, allow me.” He gave you a chaste kiss on your ankle as he set your foot down and reached for the other. “You did say you were exhausted.”
You smiled up at him. The one heart that kept you going even when yours wanted to fail. He finished untying your shoes and set them gently on the floor.
“Did you see the look on Roger’s face when Stark commandeered his speech?” He said crawling up next to you, leaning his head on his hand while the other wrapped around your hips.
You laughed, turning into his chest. You snuggled up against the heat of his neck, feeling the strong pulse of his heartbeat. You could smell his cologne and the clean scent of his shirt. “Poor Steve. You know we’re not gonna get away without him saying that speech one way or another.” you chuckled.
“Do you have enough energy to change, darling, or would you like me to use my seidr?”
“I’m comfortable here in your arms. Please don’t make me get up,” your voice muffled against his skin.
“Seidr it is.” He snickered. With a snap of his fingers, a warm heat shimmered over your body. Rough organza gave way to soft jersey fabric, and you sighed with contentment. His linen shirt was replaced with soft ribbed cotton and you could feel his heartbeat quicken.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. You looked up into his worried eyes. The passion and devotion in them were enough to render you speechless.
With Loki, you didn’t have to pretend. You gave him your genuine smile. The one smile you save only for him and said, “I’m happy Loki.”
“Good. So am I,” he sighed as he captured your lips in a heated kiss.
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@alexs1200 @a-witch-with-words @athalialaufeyson @britishserpent @cakesandtom @crimson25 @el-zef @fictive-sl0th @gigglingtigger @glitterylokislut @goldencherriess @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @immersed-in-mischief @kellatron55 @kikster606 @kkdvkyya @ladyofthestayingpower @lokidbadguy @lokiprompts @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @lokischambermaid @lokixryss @loopsisloops @lucylaufeyson3 @luvlady-writes @michelleleewise @mischief2sarawr @muddyorbs @nopenottodayson @one-oblivious-nerd @ozymdias @peaches1958 @salempoe @sarahscribbles @sarawr-reads @silverfire475 @springdandelixn @starktowerrooftop @theaudacitytowrite @thedistractedagglomeration @thomase1 @vickie5446 @vbecker10 @wheredafandomat @xorpsbane  
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liminalpebble · 6 months
Note
Hi ya, my ask would be for Loki....
For some reason his magic is glitching. He needs to understand why before anyone finds out.
Oddly, when he's around [insert character name] the effect is better/worse*
*delete as appropriate
Hello dear nonny!
Sorry it has taken me a thousand years to write this. It's kind of a long one but I hope it warms your heart. It's kind of silly and fluffy but unexpectedly emotionally real. I hope you enjoy.
CW: Fluff, all fluff. Loki x gn reader, surprisingly wholesome, just bit of cussing.
----
The Glitch
“DAMN!” Loki screamed for the tenth time that morning, smacking his fist against the kitchen counter. In the privacy of his quarters at Avengers Tower, the god of mischief was having a horrible morning.
He woke up as usual and tried to spark up the green glow of his magic to help him get ready more quickly for the day. Although long hot showers were pleasant to him, so was sleeping in after reading late into the night. Being able to magic oneself clean and ready for the day in seconds was a major convenience...one he had always taken for granted.
Although his fist was no longer magically charged, the strength of his hand still left divots in the counter top, frustrating him further. Finally the god of mischief screamed so loudly and smacked the wall so hard in rage that it was a miracle the whole building didn't hear it.
He was very lucky, in that case, that there was only one person walking quietly through the hall to the morning meeting (something Steve cutely called the “Superhero Roundtable”). You rolled your eyes thinking of the name, but Steve was too much of a sweetheart to burst his bubble about it. As your steps clicked over the polished floors you were feeling a bit proud of yourself that you would actually be early for once.
“DAMMIT!! NORNS SPIT UPON YOU, YOU HORRIBLE FICKLE FORCES.”
You jumped at the sudden avalanche of sound. His biting baritone tirade crashed into the hall from behind Loki's door. Your superhuman reflexes were the only thing keeping your files and your coffee from hitting the floor. Sighing in exasperation, you considered whether or not to get involved with whatever the hell this was. Ever since you joined the team a few days ago, your dramatic Asgardian coworker was none too thrilled to have another non-human demigod on the roster. Sharing the spotlight was never his forte and he made it everyone's problem, especially yours.
But...you were kind, sometimes to a fault. The idea of simply waking by and ignoring him, of enjoying some schadenfreude as this arrogant ass was finally being inconvenienced by something, was incredibly tempting. But pity welled up in your heart, knowing what it's like to be a stranger in a strange land, to feel alone and angry, so you knocked on the door despite being afraid of whatever hurricane was behind it.
Loud steps trudged closer, then the door swung open as Loki barked, “WHAT do you WANT?!”
You took a step back, eyes wide and coffee still death-gripped in one hand.
“I...uh...I heard you screaming, and breaking things. You know, you'll never get your deposit back if you keep it up,” you attempted to joke, painting an uncertain smile across your face, brows peaked in concern.
His aquamarine eyes stared down, boring into yours as he clenched his jaw, then said dryly, “How very perceptive of you.”
You rolled your eyes and huffed. “God, you're such a bellend.”
He flinched at the insult. He didn't know what “bellend” meant, but he could infer from your tone that it was not a compliment. As he tried to swing the door shut again, you slapped it back open, “But! I really am concerned about you, so can you please let me know what's wrong?”
“Nothing!” he growled out, chest heaving.
Your eyes scanned him up and down, taking in his disheveled hair, wrinkled pajamas, and the slew of objects strewn across his living room. “I'm not an idiot, Loki. I can see the obvious. Will you please just talk to me?”
He flinched again, this time struck by the genuine care in your voice and in your eyes. It rendered him uncharacteristically unsure of what to say or do. As he paused and you stepped closer, he could feel the surge of his magical energy building back up within him. Loki's face suddenly cracked into an unnerving gleeful grin. He hastily cast a green glow over his body, rendering himself dressed, scrubbed, and ready for the day. Although he knew he might be stretching his luck, he waved a hand behind him to reset the apartment back to its immaculate order. To his delight, it worked. “I'm ready, your highness. Let's go, shall we,” he said lightly, as if he wasn't in a tyrannical rage moments earlier.
You stared, eyes and mouth wide open in confusion, then shook your head and shrugged. “Whatever, Vlad the Complainer. Let's just go,” you said, striding quickly down the hall towards the conference room.
The demigod strutted after you, in much less of a hurry, until he felt the magic within him wither and shrink as the distance between you increased. He gingerly tested a theory, picking up his pace so he gained on you. As he suspected, each step closer caused his magic to re-energize within him.
Damn he thought with a huff, as the two of you entered the conference room, just in time. You settled in the only two seats left at the table, next to each other.
Great. You thought, realizing that at least for the next few hours, you would be stuck next to the intergalactic diva. That's what I get for being nice.
-------
The meeting went on far too long, but while Steve droned on, you turned the issue of Loki around in your mind. He sat next to you, not bothering to hide his boredom; arms crossed, chin tilted haughtily and legs spread wide. By the end of the first hour, you finally couldn't stand his long limbs sprawled out into your own space, so you swiftly kicked his shin under the table. He glared, but the message was received, loud and clear, as he wheeled his chair slightly away from you and crossed his legs.
As you touched, it happened yet again, the flaring of your own magic levels and a definite feeling of transfer to him. You could sense it ever since he answered his door this morning; the fluctuating magic. It didn't take you long to put two and two together. His magic was faltering, and for no reason you could discern, your proximity was jump-starting it again. You made a mental note to immediately drag Loki with you to Bruce to get this all sorted out.
You're welcome, Loki. You thought to yourself, considering that you could have just brought it up here in the larger group to get everyone working on the problem, but you instead decided to preserve his fragile pride. Finally, Steve dismissed everyone and you waited until the room was completely empty with a hand on Loki's arm, urging him to stay seated as well.
When you were alone, Loki took the opportunity to speak first. “Well, well, wellll,” he teased, “eager to prolong my charming presence, darling, and just the two of us, no less.” He winked and smiled. And although it was corny it was also devastatingly sexy coming from his stupid handsome face.
“Can you, for once, cut the crap? Just tell me what the fuck is going on with your powers.”
Those gorgeous icy eyes went even wider than usual, as he forced out a breathy chuckle while saying, “Why, what ever do you mean?”
Your expression remained knowing and unamused as you explained. “I know, Loki, I can feel the movement of my magic in my body, just like you can, and I can tell when someone's siphoning off of it like a gas tank. We have to go to Bruce, see if he can sort it...”
“NO.” he growled, deep and articulate, close to your face, and it sent a shiver down your spine.
“Can you put your enormous ego on a shelf for a few moments and just go with me? This won't just fix itself, you know.”
He sighed. “Very well.”
“You're welcome,” you quipped as you already left your chair and made your way to the lift. Loki was dragging his feet until he felt the magic seep away as you left. Reminded of his predicament, he jumped up and followed closely.
------
Several hours later you were sitting in a strange plastic shell of an observation room with Loki, a transparent, zipped divider between you. You sat in opposite corners trying to get comfortable while Bruce ran his tests, sometimes unzipping the middle panel, and sometimes closing it again to isolate each of you. Dr. Banner's warm voice rang in through the intercom as he looked through the observation window, “You okay in there, kid? Got everything you need for awhile?”
You laughed. “I'm 100 years old, Bruce, and I'm totally fine,” you said gesturing to your comfortable pajamas, piles of books, laptop, pillows and blankets. “It's...uh...it's like a slumber party. I'm doing great.”
“Except for the company,” Loki quipped under his breath, as he sat against the wall reading, not raising his eyes for a moment. Unlike you, Loki refused any creature comforts besides a book to keep him occupied over what would probably be long hours of testing.
---
When you arrived at the lab earlier that day, Bruce welcomed you warmly with a kind hug and chit chat. He definitely did not do the same for Loki. Instead he frowned warily and gave him a wide berth. After a few initial tests you asked, “What's the verdict?”
“Well, it looks like you two have powers that behave on similar principles but for some reason, they're interfering with each other like when radio signals cross...or maybe more like magnetic fields...still figuring that out...anyway. We never knew about this problem before because we never had two...uh...similar beings living in the same building. To bring it all back to normal, I need to find a way to separate the signals and keep it that way...some device to wear or even a nano device planted under the skin.
“I beg your pardon?” Loki said, brows furrowed and expression indignant. “You want to cut open my skin and implant something?”
Bruce smiled wryly. “You're making it sound medieval. I'm not chopping anyone open. It would be a tiny laparoscopic incision. It would take seconds and then you'd be back to normal.”
“That's great news!” you chirped.
Dr. Banner, held up his hand. “but I have to keep you both here for an extended period of time to collect enough data...eight hours or more. It might be best if you come in the evening and just sleep overnight. That way I can take readings and it won't interfere with whatever else you have to do today. It might not be the most comfortable sleeping ara...”
You put a hand on Bruce's arm. “It's fine, Bruce. I just appreciate your help.”
Loki was still glaring, arms crossed, but nodded his reluctant agreement to the arrangement.
-----
So now, here you were, locked in a bubble with Loki until morning. You almost wished the divider in the middle were opaque, so it could block his moody glares and sidelong glances. Although you bristled at his comment, you made the best of things, arranging your blankets and pillows and reading a book just as you would if you were in your own bed, in your own quarters.
Before long you heard huffs of annoyance and shuffling coming from the other side. You ignored him until you found yourself reading the same page three times because of the interruption. Finally, you gave in.
You looked over to your cellmate and asked blandly, “Can I help you?”
He grunted. “I can't get comfortable.”
“Yeah. You didn't bring a sleeping bag or blanket or pillow or anything.”
He stepped closer to the divider, as did you. “Well, I thought I could conjure what I needed. I didn't think the good doctor would ask us not to actively use our powers.”
You tutted. “A remarkable lack of foresight from the god of cunning.”
He put his hands on his hips and be began to rush his words out, “And I should have...what? Made my side look like a damn nursery as yours does? With those bizarre creatures, and that atrocious nightwear. I am a god, not a toddler.”
You braced yourself, responding as he paced. “Well, for one fucking thing those creatures are called Squishmallows and they are incredibly comfortable as pillows...and they're cute. They make me smile, Loki.”
The god of mischief raised an eyebrow, looking skeptically and derisively at a large plushy winking mango you had been using as a pillow. He asked, “And what is this apparel you have donned for your captivity.”
You blushed, looking at the zip-up hooded onesie you were wearing, and mumbled, “Shut up. It's warm and very soft on the inside.”
“In the semblance of what? A bear?”
“A capybara.”
“A what?”
“A capybara. They're cute and peaceful...look a bit like overgrown guinea pigs?”
His face screwed up into a a cringe. “I wouldn't know. I haven't been spending my long godly lifespan on a silly little eternal holiday, playing with midgardians and forsaking my dignity,” he pronounced loudly, in his most aristocratic tone.
You were now facing each other only inches apart, breaths fogging the plastic divider, arms crossed pugnaciously. You paused, gathering what little patience and compassion you had left to muster, then asked. “And which of us seems happier, Loki? Hmm?”
You didn't wait for a reply, knowing it would just raise your dander even more. Loki, however, found he didn't have any rebuttal. He watched, puzzled, as you crossed the room and spoke something Loki couldn't hear into the intercom. He watched curiously, as a lab technician took several pillows and blankets from you and brought them to Loki in the other compartment.
He held them, staring blankly at the pile in his arms. You held back a chuckle at the incongruity of the scene; the proud ancient god in his regal clothes holding a pile of soft, pastel-colored material.
To your surprise, he spread them out very carefully, returned to the divider and said quietly, “Thank you.”
As he was turning to resume his pacing at the far end, you finally asked, “Loki. Why do you hate me so much? What do you have against me? I've been nothing but kind to you...even kinder because I know what it is to be like us...to be the only ones like us, alone and misunderstood in a foreign world.”
You tried to keep the hurt from your voice, but it seeped in, and the perceptive Asgardian saw it easily. Loki's stony face softened unexpectedly, eyebrows peaked in concern and a little shame at his behavior.
“Look...I...I don't hate you. I just....I took me years...years to gain the midgardians' trust after...everything. And then it took so much time and so much effort for these Avengers in particular to accept me, respect me, acknowledge me as someone other than Thor's little bastard brother and a nuisance to the planet. But eventually, finally, I had my identity as unique and glorious and a vital member of the team and finally...finally even, perhaps, gaining friends here.”
His voice dropped to an angrier growl, “But then there was you, and in mere days...days...all of that had unraveled because of you; because of your understanding of their ways, and your intelligence and your skills and....and your kindness...your incredible, unwavering kindness.”
He sat down heavily, slouching with a bowed head, as a barely perceptible tear rolled down his cheek.
There were a few moments of silence as you came closer to the divider sitting down to match him on the other side of the plastic wall. “Loki,” you said so softly, putting your hand up on the divider.
He raised his head and met your eyes, this time not bothering to hide his tears as he barked, “Spare me your pity!”
“I don't pity you,” you said, and he could see you were telling the truth. “But I do feel for you because I have been where you are. I'm sure none of it has been easy for you, but Loki, I've wanted to be your friend since I arrived here. I'd heard all about you...all those good things you said they finally thought and felt about you were the things I heard. I was honestly, a little star-struck over you.”
He chuckled at that. “Really? Star-struck?”
“Yeah. You seemed so fascinating, and bright, and...well...and handsome obviously.”
He smiled broadly at that.
“Yeah. Yeah. Don't let it go to your head. I know everyone says that about you.”
He looked puzzled. “Actually, no one has said that to me.”
“Well. I assure you, they all think it.”
He smiled, looking you up and down in your ridiculous plush onesie and said, “And you're very...I don't remember their word for it...yndig in your...your....”
You smiled and chuckled, “In English the word is 'adorable' and I think this thing is called a onesie...which..actually is also what they call the ones babies wear so I guess you're a bit right.”
Now he was laughing too and neither of you could stop.
----
In the morning Dr. Banner smiled triumphantly as he strode into the isolation room. He held up two little syringes and said, “I've got it, you two! I hope you haven't torn each other's throats out after we unzipped the barrier.”
He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the two of you curled up together in a pile of blankets and pillows. The laptop was still streaming movies you had long since fallen asleep during. Loki's hand was around your shoulders and your sleepy head was resting in the crook of his neck. Sometime during the night, you had even convinced Loki to don your extra onesie (a black cat). Then, dressed up like animals, you had snuggled together and drifted off that way.
Bruce smiled, chuckled and walked right back out, deciding to let you both sleep a little longer.
He shrugged and quipped, “Guess it was a good slumber party.”
@goblingirlsarah @lokihiddleston @lokisgoodgirl @unlucky-number-13 @thedistractedagglomeration @gigglingtiggerv2 @muddyorbs @acidcasualties @alexakeyloveloki @joyful-enchantress @marcotheflychair @mischief2sarawr @icytrickster17 @loz-3 @loopsisloops @peachyjinx @peaches1958 @lokischambermaid @ladyofthestayingpower @sweetsigyn @november-rayne @little-wormwood @littlespaceyelf @mochie85 @sarahscribbles @alexakeyloveloki @holdmytesseract
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lokisgoodgirl · 5 months
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Thank you @maple-seed for sending me this totally innocent photo of Tom absolutely not getting sucked off beneath the cut.
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targaryen-dynasty · 2 months
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Hi hi friend! So proud of you for reaching 2k!!
I wanted to participate in the lil thing. I think Vhagar. So I got the idea of Modern Prince Daemon. Like the Targaryen family in the modern age with a constitutional monarchy. But Daemon of course is still the rouge prince
Hi!! Tysm for this 🫶🏻 This is a bit of Prince Philip (who would have thought lmfao) but I just finished The Crown season 2 and it‘s possible I miss him 😭
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Let‘s celebrate my milestone!
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