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fluffyfantasticducky · 7 months

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Focus on the Good

☆ Pairing: Loki x Reader

☆ Synopsis: Loki is overwhelmed dealing with being accused as a traitor, although this time he's innocent. But this time, he is not the man he used to be, and he has you by his side.

☆ Word Count: 5,110

☆ Notes: The relatively awaited part two of Smile for me. Sorry I took so long to post this, I had a creative block and had trouble deciding what to focus on. The traitor plot twist is anticlimatic but I chose to focus more on Loki and his feelings.

☆ Warnings: Loki dealing with self hatred, insinuations and caresses that aren't spicy per se but are a bit more intimate and flirty but it's all sfw.

Frustrating. How else could he call it?

His first mission as a leader was a complete disaster. You had gotten hurt due to his own incompetence. And add some insult to this pathetic situation, now he was being investigated for treason to S.H.I.E.L.D. despite that he was completely innocent.

It must have been some sick twisted joke of fate. He spent years playing with Asgard like a fiddle, getting away with so much, to the point that where he committed treason everyone realized only when it was too late. And now that he had a reason to make things right, be transparent and honest, now he was investigated as if he was some traitor.

The most offensive thing of those implications was that it suggested that Loki was either using you or lying to you. When in reality he would die for you, he’d walk through fire if you asked him. Or that you were complicit of his ‘crimes.’ You, you who were the kindest, sweetest, most righteous person he had ever met.

Every day or two days at most they come to either interrogate you, him, or inspect your shared room which always left them a mess to clean up.

At least the people he cared about knew he was innocent. Thor was constantly arguing with Fury, going over and over about how this was nonsensical and even offering Loki to flee to New Asgard for a few days until things calmed down. Valkyrie had offered him an extra room if he needed. Bruce, while he wasn’t as passionate about defending Loki, agreed that it made very little sense that Loki would betray them now with all he had accomplished. Even the great Tony Stark agreed between sarcastic jokes that he would’ve believed if he hadn’t seen how down bad, he was for you.

You… what would he do without you? You not only got into mad arguments and made abundantly clear your distaste for this decision, but you were his biggest source of support and peace after all the draining routine he was being put through during the suspension from missions. You were a risk taker by disobeying direct orders from Fury by asking Thor, Bruce, Nat, Clint to trade with you during missions as to make a strike until they decided to reintegrate Loki to his normal duties. And for the first week of interrogations, whenever it was your turn… Norns, he felt a bit bad for the director. You were quite loud and fierce when you wanted to be.

But most importantly, all the support he got from you after all the interrogations and room inspections that hurt him more than he’d ever admit.

“I’m sorry…” he sighed, resting his head on your lap.

In between the inspections to your shared bedroom one of the agents had broken a little figurine you collected.

“It’s just a toy, I’ll get another one…” you assured him.

Loki could sense a lie. But he also remembered how excited you had been when you got it, saying it was rare and it had taken you a huge effort to get it.

“You darling prince…” you spoke softly, running your fingers through his hair. “It’s okay. We know you’re innocent, soon all of S.H.I.E.L.D. will see it too. Everything else doesn’t matter.”

“What did I do so right to deserve such a pretty angel such as you?” he chuckled. “You are unfairly good to me.”

“You keep saying that baby.” You spoke gently, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear. “You sound like a broken record.”

“I might be one” he shrugged, closing his eyes.

“Yeah?” you giggled. “Then I’ll just have to fix you.”

“I thought you said the I can fix him was a toxic mentality in romance” he said cheekily.

“Oh, now you remember my movie rants” you laughed. “But the I can fix him trope is toxic when—”

“…It is used by the abuser who manipulates them into staying as a rehabilitation center. A partner should be part of your support group but never the responsible to fix you, but a motivation and helping hand while you fix yourself.” He opened his eyes to look up at you as he finished repeating your old rant word by word. “I always remember the things you say.”

“Is that so? When is our anniversary?”

“June 9” Loki smiled and noticed you opening your mouth to retort. “And our 1,000 days together is on March 5th year. And yes, I knew you were going to ask that.”

“Smart pants” you smiled.

“You love me like that.”

“I do” you smiled and kissed his lips softly. “Guess you don’t need fixing after all.”

“Glad we agree, I am the most perfect man” he grinned, relishing the way you cringed and smiled at the silly joke.

“I don’t know about that.” You smiled, “But you are perfect for me.”

You pecked his lips and made him smile.

“I don’t deserve you…” he smiled.

“Oh, that’s it!” you laughed and soon your hands where all over his sides.

And sooner than that Loki was laughing his head off.

“Hehe- hey!” he protested between laughs.

You had an annoying charm. Tickling him silly as a pseudo-punishment. It was your shared secret how much Loki enjoyed being tickled. You stopped soon enough, smiling at him, caressing your thumb across his cheek.

“It’ll pass before you notice…” you whisper. “They will see exactly what you truly are. Just like I do.”

Loki chuckled softly.

“I hope not, you are a handful already” he smirked at the offended look on your face due to his comment.

“Oh, you want to talk about a handful…” you growled as you flipped to straddle him. “Let’s see how much of a handful I can be…”

Loki gulped, unable to fight a smile.

“Ahah…” he huffed, “darling, d-don’t… d-dohohohon’t!”

But your hands were already attacking his sides, your fingers skillfully scribbling along his skin, prodding his ribs, drilling along each crevice in the most maddening way.

“Is that enough handful for you, huh?” you asked in a faux anger. “Eh? Is it?”

“Thihihihihihis is cruel!” Loki protested. “And thahahahat doesn’t mahahake sehehense!”

“Mmm, it might have just been excuse to get my hands on this hot bod of yours” you smiled.

Being tickled was already a vulnerable moment for Loki. To the point where only you could tickle him without any resistance. Anyone else would need to overpower him physically or just restrain him. You, on the other side, he would barely fight back. He’d simply squirm in his place, rolling over to the side or on his stomach. Which it gave you more of a sensation that he just wanted you to focus on other spots. Not that he'd ever admit… you had tried.

“Ehehehe! You ahahahaha— wait no!” he protested as your fingers reached his stomach, giving it little pinches and pokes. “Lohohohove, stop!”

“Alright, alright.” You smiled and kissed his forehead as you stopped the tickling. “Is your mood better?”

“Ihi— if I say yes will you stop torturing my stomach?” he smiled at you, holding onto your hips. “You know I can’t take it there.”

The way you leaned against his chest to kiss his lips never failed to drive him wild. And this wasn’t the exception.

“I am aware” you hummed against his lips. “That’s why it’s my favorite spot to tickle.”

“I am, unfortunately, also aware of that” he chuckled.

“If you really minded it, you’d actually do something to stop me instead of just laughing your heart out.”

“I love it when a beautiful mortal has their hands all over me, is that something to be ashamed about?” he grinned cheekily at you.

You rolled your eyes and smiled. “It wouldn’t be if you were still single. But you are stuck with me now and forgive me if I’m not good at sharing my boyfriend. Unless you’d share me with others.”

“That is out of the question. You are mine, and mine alone.” He said solemnly as he held you in his arms. You lifted your eyebrows, expectantly as he felt his cheeks warm up under your gaze. “As… I am yours; I suppose.”

“Was that so hard to say?” you smiled.

“Terribly so” Loki smiled. But then, his face adopted a serious, melancholic expression. “I’m sorry… I should not be dragging you into this disaster. You deserve better, and I fear you will realize that. It would be best for you, but… I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Lucky for you, that’s not something you have to worry about” you assured him, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. I am perfectly happy with you.”

One thing that Loki loved about your relationship was that despite knowing you said stuff to made him feel better, it never came off as dishonest, as if those two concepts weren’t mutually exclusive. You said the kindest, most loving things, and he could tell you honestly felt every single one.

It made his heart soar. That honest and kind heart of yours was exactly what he had been craving for. You were what he had been looking for.

It made him want to open his heart to you. You were kind and listened to him without judging or thinking the worst of him.

“What am I going to do?” he sighed. “If I can’t go on missions, soon I will not be allowed to go outside, and then I will be going back to being a high-class prisoner.”

“Actually… you can’t leave the building given you’re under investigation” you said apologetically. “Sorry.”

“Lovely…” he groaned, throwing his head back, rubbing his face with his palms. “I am back to being a prisoner. Might as well get inside a cell.”

“Yes, we could tie you up, and torture you until you confess” you purred, trailing kisses along his jawline, as your hands made their way to play with his hair.

“You’re making it sound appealing” he hummed, relishing the feeling of your lips against his skin. “Mmm~ Keep touching me like that and I’ll do anything you ask.”

“Mm, what a good boy” you giggled, kissing his lips.

He laughed along with you, but mostly because your hands had found his ears and were tickling behind them.

“W-Whahahat are you doing? T-That tickles!” he laughed.

“I told you I would torture an answer out of you” you giggled, tickling the back of his ears. “Now confess, you war criminal!”

“Nohohoho, stohop it!” he squirmed underneath you. “How is thahahat spot so bahahad?”

“Right?” you chuckled, pressing loving kisses along his face. “I found out the other day while we were kissing.”

He grabbed your wrists. “Oh really?” he smirked, and trapped your wrists in one of his hands as he began tickling your ear shell and behind it. It took absolutely nothing to have you giggling like a kid.

“Ehehehe! L-Loki!” you giggled. “Hehehe! I-It tickles!”

“It does, does it not?” he chuckled.

He traced along the outline of your ear. He relished the way you laughed against him, you never tried to get away nor asked him to stop. You loved that closeness as much as Loki did.

“Mmm, that laugh of yours is so lovely~” he hummed as he stopped, tucking a few streaks of hair behind your ear. “It’s my favorite sound in the whole world, you make me so happy.”

“Cheesy” you chuckled, kissing his lips.

“I mean that, darling” he smiled. “Without you I would have gone mad by now. Or worse, I would be a prisoner.”

“You can’t believe that…” you spoke softly.

“What else am I supposed to believe?” he sighed, “what I did to New York is unforgivable. I should be locked up for life, I was going to be… It’s what I deserve. It took me too long to understand it.”

It broke your heart to hear him talk like that. It was a shame that he still punished himself so badly. You appreciated that he recognized his error, but the fact that it haunted him was painful to watch. He was already working on getting better.

“Loki… Your beef with Earth had its particular and complicated circumstances, it wasn’t 100% your fault.” You assured him. “But even if that was, there are other ways to atone for your mistakes… Punishing yourself but you were helping Earth, compensation is another way of redemption. Being an Avenger is a way to redeem yourself.”

“How do you do it?” he chuckled, “How do you manage to look at all the awful things I have done and still somehow see the best in me?”

“Because I’ve also seen how much you regret it, and I’ve seen you trying to prove to everyone, prove to yourself that you are doing better.” you spoke lovingly. “That means a lot, to me, to Thor, to everyone.”

“But why?” he asked. “What I did is…”

“Fucked up, yes. Tony and Bruce created a genocidal robot, Clint was an international criminal prisoner and retook as an assassin, Steve and Natasha were literal war criminals, your brother before you nearly started a war—”

“That I provoked him into.”

“Would you do it again?” you asked.

“For the sake of entertainment—” Loki pondered.

“Loki!” you giggled.

“I’m jesting, love!” he laughed. “Earth is no good in wars like Asgard, we fight to settle disagreements, make alliances, or get respect. But never to destroy.”

“We’re not so bad…” you smiled.

“Not all of you, no.” Loki agreed. “You for once are a wonderful mor— human. Smart, beautiful, funny, kind… It’s the people on the higher power that worry me.”

“It’s as they say, absolute power corrupts absolutely” you shrugged. “That’s what we fight for. For those without power, and against those who abuse it.”

“You say that as I remain locked in here, simply training and withering away” Loki sighed.

“Well… we can find something interesting to keep you occupied—”

“Reindeer games, out now!” Tony banged on the door.

“Not now Stark!” Loki called annoyed.

“You’ll want to see this.” Tony spoke through the other side of the door.

You stood up and Loki followed right after. Everyone was headed to the meeting room so that’s where you went to.

Bruce and Thor had one of the younger cadets, Philip. He was struggling against the two. His blonde hair was a mess and he looked like he had lost a fight.

“We found our traitor, brother.” Thor said firmly, even a bit prideful. “The little rat sabotaged our missions.”

“A double agent?” Steve asked.

“Self-sabotage” Bruce clarified. “He informed the base you were going. Who and when. And exactly how to take down a god. We found a report of the mission sent to an unknown address.”

“I found it.” Natasha stated.

“You?” Clint raised an eyebrow.

“We” she corrected herself.

“With my technology, that is.” Tony added. “In case anyone was wondering.”

“No one was wondering that, Tony” Steve smiled lightly, amused by the genius’ ego.

“But why? You were the only non-Avenger agent Loki chose personally” Thor asked. “My brother trusted you. And it was a wonderful opportunity for you.”

Fury looked… well, furious.

“Philip Crowe, you’re immediately and effectively removed from all S.H.I.E.L.D. work and installations, permanently for treason, espionage, and sabotage to an elite strike agent.” Fury said firmly.

“Elite?! He’s a monster!” the young man protested, struggling to break free from the arm lock. “It’s a time bomb! It’s in his nature! You’ve seen what he’s capable of! It’s a matter of time before we have New York part two! You’ve read myths, what guarantees that there won’t be a Ragnarök on Earth?! He—”

SMACK! He had been cut off by a slap in the face by you. If the stinging in his cheek was not enough to silence him, your cold glare silenced him.

“Take him away.” You said. “I want him rotting in a cell for a really long time…”

“Oh, he will be locked in the dark for a very long time” Fury agreed, “for espionage, and sabotage… And being an asshole as a whole.”

Thor was about to take him away. He was struggling to break free.

“Don’t.” Loki spoke up. “I’ll use a spell to delete his memories, about S.H.I.E.L.D. about the Avengers. Everything will be gone from his mind. He can live a normal life not remembering being an agent.”

Loki walked and looked down at him. Placed his hand on his forehead as the blond struggled. Loki let his Seidr flow and Philip’s body went limp.

“When he wakes up, he’ll be normal, he can have a normal life, he won’t be a risk for S.H.I.E.L.D.” he sighed and left the room.

Flowers bloomed under him as he sat by the lake. Just enjoying the familiar view. But not even that brought him any joy.

“Loki, there you are, honey.”

“Hello mother” Loki smiled. “I was just… thinking.”

“I thought you would be happy to get your naming” Frigga said. “You were excited this morning to receive your title.”

“God of Mischief, mother?” he asked. “Does that mean I’m supposed to cause trouble?”

“Is that so bad?”

“Will father get upset at me?” Loki asked. “Besides, you like annoying your brother.”

“Pranking Thor is different. Why could I be the God of rain, wind, or something, then Thor and I could be gods together.”

“You can’t revolve your personality around Thor. Your godly title is meant to reflect your personality, not your brother’s” Frigga smiled at him gently. “Your father gave you a title that would fit you.”

“Does father think I’m a bad son?” he asked.

“I think your father thinks you’re creative, smart, with good abilities to get away with what you want” Frigga assured him. “All qualities you do have. And you are quite cheeky.”

Loki chuckled weakly. Frigga smiled and picked up a purple flower and wiggled it against Loki’s face. Causing the young god to scrunch up his nose and swat the pretty flower away.

“You know, son. I think it’s time for you to start learning magic” Frigga said.

“But you said I had to wait until I was 500 years old” Loki asked.

“I think you’re ready” Frigga said, “You’re 250 years old already, and you just got your title. You are a big boy now.”

With a few elegant movements the violet on Frigga’s hands turned into a purple frog that jumped out of hands and into the pond. Loki giggled as his mother’s arms trapped him into a hug as she tickled his sides.

“Pretty memory” you looked at him as you sat next to him. “Your mom is pretty.”

“Most beautiful woman in all of Asgard” Loki agreed. “Do you know what Orvokki means?”

“Uhh, it’s a violet, right?” you said looking at the flowers around the lake.

“It can also be interpreted as little orphan. How ironic that it was my favorite flower as a child…” Loki grumbled.

He flicked his wrist and the illusion of his memory vanished. He was no longer in Asgard, he was sitting on the rooftop of the compound’s main building. He wasn’t with his mother. And his eyes were red from crying.

“That was really nice thing you did back there” you congratulated him as you rubbed circles across his back.

“Not bad for a monster, huh?” Loki huffed out, in a failed attempt to fake out a laugh. “Did you see the way he looked at me? The fear in his eyes…?”

“Don’t listen to him…” you said resting your head against his shoulder. “He never gave you a chance to prove how good you really are. That’s his problem, not yours.”

“I can’t blame him… I would not trust me either… I am a monster, I was a monster to my people, to my home…” he sighed.

“What? No, Loki…”

“My birth father abandoned me to die, I was raced by a kingdom that thought my kind were monsters…” Loki sighed, “and I caused so much pain and death to a Realm that could’ve seen me as something quite literally divine.”

You looked at him and squeezed his hand.

“I thought… I hoped I had a second chance, I wanted to believe people were already accepting me. I thought that if I could have at least one agent to trust me… How foolish of me…”

“Stop that…” you scolded him, giving his hand a gentle and loving squeeze. “You’re not a monster. No one sees you as a monster.”

Loki laughed bitterly. While you weren’t lying in the literal sense, you were being too kind, blinded by your affection for the young Asgardian to acknowledge the recent events.

“I mean it!” you said. “You’re so focused on one person thinking you’re a monster, that you fail to see what everyone else did because they believed in you. They all helped in their own way to prove you were innocent. Either tracking conversation, providing resources… Gosh, even director Fury trusted you were innocent.”

“I…” Loki recapped the events from earlier. You weren’t wrong.

“Besides, you know how picky I am when it comes to dating” you smiled, “I wouldn’t date just anyone. Is that not enough for you?”

Loki was silent for a moment, for once he didn’t even have a smart reply for that.

He had seen you turn down a couple of agents or staff members before the two of you started dating. Philip among the lines of the rejected. In fact, he remembered that during that time where the other Avengers noticed his feelings for you, some of them tried to discourage him from courting you, because “you didn’t date.” In fact, they had brought it up, on his face to prove it so. You were, in fact, very picky when it came to dating. Which just made him value your relationship even more. It gave him a huge confidence boost, and the security of not being replaced or overshadowed he so desperately had been needing.

And once again, you were that source of comfort and security. You were his sweet little balm.

“I… um…” he stuttered.

You chuckled and kissed his cheek.

“Tongue tied?” you teased him, making him groan in frustration as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “Just… don’t give him power over you, if he didn’t bother knowing you, he shouldn’t deserve such a space in your mind.”

“Thanks, love” he smiled softly. “For… looking after me. And… helping me see that others look after me.”

“Heh… I’m glad I helped” you spoke lovingly as you rubbed your nose against his neck.

He chuckled rested his cheek against the top of your head.

“Should we head inside?” you asked, rubbing your own arms, as you stood up “it’s a bit chilly out here.”

“You can go inside, love” Loki offered. “I need some time alone.”

You looked at him worried, but a gust of cold wind made you shiver, making the idea of going inside more and more appealing. But he saw the hesitation in your eyes, the way you didn’t want to leave him alone made him smile.

“I promise I’ll meet you inside later” he assured you. But you didn’t look too convinced “Make some tea for us, and I’ll meet you in our room before you’re done putting on your pajamas.”

You gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher but you nodded and made your way inside.

He relished the fresh air. But as he mentally prepared to be burdened with his failure, he surprised himself smiling. His mind wasn’t clouded with the young spy that betrayed him.

All he could think was that all the original Avengers, those he had cursed himself for unintentionally helping assemble to defeat him… now had stood up for him. And it didn’t stop there.

His mind was filled with happy memories.

All the times he had gotten a pat in the back from Tony and being called his new favorite for teasing Steve’s righteous stiffness and the way Bucky and Sam snickered at it. As well as his training contests with the super soldiers to test their serum with Loki and Thor’s godly nature. How he beamed with pride at the blond’s praise after a mission. The way Natasha and her little sister acknowledge his ability to infiltrate and swoon targets and even required him specifically. How Clint and his little new protegee had gotten really happy when Loki gifted them his old Asgardian bows for them, despite the teasing when they saw right through his “I don’t even use them” excuse and treated for dinner after. Bruce acknowledging his observation capabilities during some of his experiments. Thor… who despite all the awful things they had gone through never abandoned him, and still saw Loki as his baby brother, and despite they refused to admit it, both still adored each other.

And you. You had stolen his heart from minute one. He had been hopeless before the first kiss or even a declaration. Your eyes brought him to his knees, and he had sworn to be at your mercy for the rest of his existence when he saw you smile. And with that power you had over him done nothing but nourish him. Your payback when he pestered you was always fun and harmless. You made him laugh. You listened to everything he said and always encouraged him to keep talking until he was hoarse. You gave him the attention he had been craving for so many years. You treated him as the most important being of the universe.

Honestly, he didn’t realize when his thoughts had set him in motion. But by the time he was aware of his actions, he was already turning the doorknob of your shared bedroom.

“Liar” you scoffed, throwing a teddy bear to his face as soon as he set foot inside the room. “You said you’d be here before I was done putting on my jammies, but it’s been 5 minutes since I got in bed, and you weren’t here.”

Loki couldn’t help but smile. For a secret agent, you were terrible at hiding your feelings… at least from him.

“I apologize for not keeping my word, love” he apologized as he took off his shirt and searched through his drawer for the pajama he wanted to wear. “I lost track of time.”

“Did you drink?” you asked him.

“I did not. I trusted my favorite thing to make me tea” he responded with an innocent look as he put on his pajama shirt.

“It’s on your night table” you responded with the slightest pout, knowing you it was because he saw right through you.

He walked to the warm mug and took a sip. Of course, you had prepared his favorite tea… and with extra honey, just the way he liked. Everyone always complained there would never be enough for everyone if you kept spoiling Loki with his favorite all the time. You always got more, but it just meant starting the cycle again.

“Thank you, dear” he smiled as he kneeled on the bed to reach and cup your face to kiss your cheek.

Oh, how he wanted to tackle you and cover you in kisses at the way you fought and lost against the smile that appeared on your lovely face along with a light shade of pink.

“So adorable…” he chuckled.

As he was taking off his pants, he saw the way your blush turned even darked. He rushed to put on the pajama pants and dove in the bed, wrapping his arms around you in a loving embrace with his chest against your back.

“You’re in a lovely mood” you smiled as you reached to caress his cheek. “What gives?”

“I just thought about a lovely little mortal” he hummed pressing soft kisses on your nape, “that makes my darkest days bright and cozy.”

“Do you have a fever or something?” you touched his forehead.

“No, I mean it!” he laughed. “I stayed back to think… and all I could think about was your love, your kindness, and this hot body of yours…”

As he spoke that last bit, he reached to caress your sides, making you giggle.

“Loki…!” you giggle swatting his hand away. “You’re asking for trouble.”

“You know I am” he whispered, resting his face against your shoulder. Taking in your scent, closing his eyes as he relaxed. “Norns, what would I do without you?”

“Probably snuggle your pillow tonight” you smiled. “But you’d be fine.”

“I would not…” Loki choked up, as he felt tears forming in his eyes. “I would be lost; I would be absolutely nothing without you. A monster…”

“No, no, baby…” you spoke softly, turning around to face him. “You’ve worked really hard to be better… That’s all you, you are utterly and undoubtedly wonderful…”

The way you always made him feel better was almost scary. Your word was law. If you said he was so good, then… perhaps he wasn’t as bad as he thought.

“I love you…” he whispered. “Thank you…”

“What for?”

“For being my second chance… For believing I was more than the man that caused so much pain to your people…”

“Second chances are earned, Loki” you said. “You’ve earned it.”

He laughed softly when you rose up to sit on his waist, straddling him with your legs as you gave him a pseudo-menacing look.

“Now speak poorly of my sweet cuddly honeybun and you will be sorry…” you said in the worse threatening tone he had ever heard.

He cringed and laughed softly at the overly cheesy pet name.

“Oh gods…” he muttered with a shaky smile as his lips twitched upwards, amused by the situation. “You goofball.”

You let out an offended gasp and started tickling his sides, immediately making him giggle like a child.

“W-Wait! Dahahaharling! I’m sohohohohohrry!” he whined between laughs.

“Nope! Sorry ain’t gonna cut it this time, you insult me, you insult my prince… you deserve being chastised” you said playfully as you tickled his belly, which always made him hysterical.

“NAHAHAHA! STOP! STOP! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!” he cackled, soon wheezing. He was so ridiculously ticklish that had had no chance fighting back or think about anything else but the tingles that made him howl with laughter.

But he wouldn’t change this kind of silly fun with his darling for the world. And if he was honest with himself, this was a great thing to focus on.

| MASTERPOST |

#marvel tickles #marvel fluff #loki laufeyson #ticklish!loki #ler!loki #lee!loki #ticklish!reader #ler!reader #lee!reader #loki x reader #loki tickle #loki fluff #ducky writes tickles

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 25 days

Text

Life in the City 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bad friends, creep behaviour, abuse of power dynamics, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You move to the big city and find yourself swallowed up by its chaos.

Characters: Clark Kent, Thor Odinson, short!reader

Note: Heloooooo.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you. No tag list, do not ask for updates.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As promised, you’re shown to your new office by the end of the day. You put your meagre box of belongings on the desk and unpack a piece at a time. Isn’t an exhaustive task so you take your time.

You put your watermelon post-its by the base of the monitor’s pedestal and your cell phone screen lights up. It’s been buried in your bag for much of the day but you took it out to reconnect to your work accounts. Melanie’s name fills the top of the screen. You still haven’t responded to her since the weekend.

You swipe up your phone and cross the office. You answer as you shut the door, eking out a tiny hello as you turn back and bite your thumb. You pace aimlessly as your stomach knots. You don‘t think you’re mad at her, just embarrassed about how it all turned out. She knows how many times your excitement was burnt to disappointment, you hoped she wouldn’t have added to your pile ashes.

“Hey, girl, you busy? I’ve been calling you all week.”

It’s Tuesday, you think to yourself.

“I’m sorry, I just have a lot going on at work--”

“That’s great,” she interrupts, “did you see my texts? I really am sorry about the other night. You know, I was stressed. Clark was out of town for his job and I hadn’t seen him all week. Really, I didn’t forget about you, I just thought we were meeting Saturday, not Friday.”

Your mouth slants as you weigh her excuse. You don’t know if you believe her but it could be true. How long have you been friends? Doesn’t she deserve the benefit of the doubt?

“Everyone gets busy,” you say with a brittle laugh, “I totally get it. Next time I’ll be clearer, that’s all. Make sure there’s no misunderstanding.”

“Of course,” her voice is trills and is overly affected, “I just wanted to check in since Clark said you were so upset.”

“He did?” You frown as you stop by the desk and take your stapler out of the box.

“Uh, yeah, he did. So, in the future, if your upset, you can just let me know, hon,” her tone drips like syrup, “we’re friends, aren’t we? I mean, it’s a big city and we gotta stick together.”

“Erm, sure, I’m sorry, I didn’t think... I wasn’t upset. I didn’t say anything, you know, I was just tired.”

“Whatever, hon, it’s behind us now, isn’t it? You forgive me?” She pauses, waiting.

“Y-yeah?” You answer.

“Aw, that’s so wonderful,” she chimes, “anyway, you sound busy. You must be working so I’ll let you go. Ciao.”

She hangs up and you hold the phone to your ear for a moment after the line dies. That was weird. Like she wasn’t really talking to you, but more putting on a show for someone. Strange.

You drop your arm and a knock comes at the door. You wince and put your phone screen down. You face the door and fold your hands.

“Uh, who is it?” You call out.

The door opens and a throat clears, “just me,” Thor says as he enters, “wanted to be sure you got some of the leftovers.”

He has a container in his hands. You try to blow off the tension and force a smile. You drop your arms straight and drag a finger up and down the seam of your pants.

“Thanks, that’s too sweet,” you chirp.

“Ah, I made sure to get you some cinnamon cookies,” he nears and offers the container.

“Oh, my, I shouldn’t,” you accept the box.

“You shouldn’t?” He wonders, “you’re not on some diet, are you? You hardly need one.”

You laugh nervously, “oh, no,” you back up and spin to put the container on the desk. You go back and reach into the box, “I just... I have a rotten sweet tooth, you know? Sugar keeps me up.”

“Mmm, well, you should indulge. Enjoy. Nothing wrong with allowing yourself the small things,” he goads, “so,” he claps his hands, the sound making you jump, “your office. How do you like it?”

He looks around theatrically as he pivots. You take out your small blue mug with the teddy bear on it and follow his gaze, “it’s nice. Big.”

“Yes, I suppose you don’t take up much space,” he remarks, “if you need any supplies, you can just let me know.”

“Oh, um, I shouldn’t. I... I could just contact finance--”

“Come to me,” he insists, “accounting takes too long.”

“Okay,” you agree.

“Are you excited?” He asks as he turns to you.

“Sure,” you answer.

“Mm,” he hums, “you’re sweet, but I don’t want you to stress. If there’s anything overwhelming me, don’t be afraid to let me know.”

“I know, thank you, Mr. Odinson.”

“Thor,” he corrects you with a wink, “you don’t know want to know Mr. Odinson.” He grins and you look at him blankly, “my father. He’s an old grump.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you put the cup down and rub your palms together, “it’s been a long day.”

“It has indeed,” he checks his watch, “you’re almost done... I should let you finish.” He flicks his finger towards your desk, “tomorrow, the heavy lifting begins.”

“Yeah,” you murmur.

“Don’t forget your treats,” he points to the container, “you’ve earned it.”

“Right, thanks again,” your smile trembles as fatigue nips at the corner of your eyes.

“See you tomorrow morning,” he avows before he spins and goes to the door.

You return your attention to the box as you sense him hovering at the threshold. You think he’s looking at you but you’re too nervous to check. Finally, the door closes and you exhale and close your eyes. You can’t believe how much today has taken out of you and the days to come promise much of the same.

🏙️

You yawn as you come out of your building, eyelids heavy and itchy as you rub them with your knuckles. You hitch up your bag as you turn down the sidewalk and cross to the stop on the other side of the street. You barely slept through the anxiety and anticipation. The unknown stresses you out more than anything and you really have no idea what you’re walking into.

You let your head lean back as you give another silent roar of fatigue. You roll your shoulders and urge yourself to wake up. You got to get with it. You can’t show up at the office half-asleep.

The whir of an engine approaches and you look towards the direction of the bus route. Its too quiet to be a bus. Instead, there’s a vaguely familiar car that slows instead of passing. You squint and cross your arms defensively. You have to keep reminding yourself this is the city.

The window rolls down as you bounce on your feet awkwardly, “hey,” your name rises in the deep timbre.

You bend and find Clark smiling at you. Of course! That’s why you recognised his car.

“Heyyyy,” you say, “what are you doing... here?”

“Working on a story, actually. Was in the area and... what timing, huh?” He pushes his shoulder up as he keeps one hand on the steering wheel, “you on your way to work?”

“Yup,” you answer brightly, swallowing another yawn, “bus should be here soon.”

“The bus? Get in, I’ll give you a ride.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to... that’s too far.”

“Where do you work?”

“Tempest,” you answer.

“Tempest? That’s right by the paper. I’ll take you, no problem.”

“Really?” Your brows arch dramatically, “that’s so nice of you.”

“Of course,” he pats the passenger seat and the door unlocks with a loud click.

“I owe you one." You open the door and get in, tempted to melt into the seat. It’s so much better than the stiff ones on the bus. Ugh, your head is tenuous at best. It could start pounding at any minute.

“How are you?” Clark asks as you buckle in.

“Alright,” you repress yet another yawn, “how are you? How’s Melly?”

“Melly?” He chuckles, “she’s fine, I think. I'm... fine too.”

“Oh...” you twiddle your fingers in your lap as he slowly leans on the gas and pulls away from the curb, “just fine?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve just been... talking a lot. You know, relationship stuff,” he drives with one hand, combing his other through his hair.

“Ah, right,” you nod, “hopefully it’s okay.”

“Huh,” he scoffs and puts his other hand on the wheel, “you’re a good friend.”

“I... guess,” you shrug. “I... I just think Melanie really likes you.”

“Oh, I know she does,” he laughs, “doesn’t keep her from being... how she is. I like her too but we both know she can be very demanding.”

“She can be,” you agree, “but I think that’s just her personality. Sometimes I wish I could be more like her.”

“Why would you want that?” he asks.

“Er...”

“I just mean, you’re you. Everyone’s different right and you’re just so sweet,” he says, “this world has enough Melanies.”

“Maybe,” you turn your head and cover your mouth as you yawn at the window.

“I’m dying for a coffee,” Clark says, his tone shifting smoothly with the topic, “how about you? Green tea?”

You look at him. He remembers your order? You rub your cheek and drop your hand to your lap.

“I’m okay, but thank you--”

“Really, it’s no big deal,” he flips the blinker on, “I need an espresso so, how about it? Iced, hot?”

You bite the inside of your lip. You really could use a boost. You don’t often get the chance. Your bus ride is too long to factor in a cafe run.

“Could I get a matcha latte, iced? I have some change,” you open your bag and shove your hand inside.

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves you off.

“Really, you’re giving me a ride. The least I can do--”

“The least you can do is let me buy your drink,” he insists, “because I kinda have a big favour to ask you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, uh, it’s for Melanie. You must know her birthday is coming up.”

“Yeah, I know--”

“I really wanna work through things with her and I figured if I threw her a party, maybe it’s better than all this talking,” he joins the queue for the drive thru, “and you’ve known Melanie a lot longer than me so you’re like an expert. Do you think you could help me out?”

“A birthday party? Well, I... could try. Mel’s always been the one into parties and planning and all that.”

“I’m not good at it either but you know what she likes. I could use help at least with colours or whatever,” he suggest, “I mean, obviously, you don’t have to. I’m not going to blackmail you with a car ride and a latte.”

You laugh rockily, “well, I could try. It wouldn’t be so bad and I should do something special. We’re both finally living in the same city. Maybe this would help with us too.”

“Us? You and... Mel?”

You give him a look then look through the windshield. You fidget as he rolls up to the speaker and orders. You wait until he’s done.

“Things were awkward the other day when I crashed your date night,” you say, “I’m sure you caught on.”

“Yeah, yeah, she wasn’t very gracious,” his tone lowers sharply.

“It’s okay. She didn’t mean anything. I’m not upset--”

“Did she apologise?” He asks abruptly.

“Uh, yeah, of course, but she doesn’t have to--”

“I think you deserve the apology,” he interrupts again. “You know, you don’t deserve to be walked all over like that. Hell, if I had friend like you, I think I’d treat you a lot better.”

“I’m not upset,” you assure him, his mood making you uneasy. It’s flattering he would be so upset on your behalf but you’d rather just put it all behind you, “she said sorry, it’s all good.” You wiggle your foot as you think, “alright, I can help with the party.”

“Ah, yes, you’re a life saver,” he pulls up to the window and pays. He gets the drinks and hands you the matcha before he slips his in the cup holder, “great, I’ll get your number and we can throw around ideas when you have a chance.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, I could...” the cup soaks your hands in condensation, chilling you, “I’ll do my best. I have a new assignment at work so I’ll be a bit tied up.”

“No problem, whenever you can. Hope you don’t mind if I send you a couple of pictures I saw,” he says, “tryna come up with a vision, you know?”

“That’s cool,” you pause to sip the matcha, nearly sighing at the refreshing flow that coats your stomach, “thank you so much for the tea.”

“Any time,” he says as he pulls out into the street, “anything you need at all.”

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random0lover · 1 year

Text

Open Wounds and War Paint

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x GN!reader

Word Count: 1,614

Warnings: Angst/no comfort, SFW, reader death(?), proclamation of love, blood, emotional shit, reader gets called dove and love, reader calls Simon baby one time.

Things to know: Should be POC friendly! If you notice anything that makes you feel otherwise please let me know! I never want anyone to feel excluded with/in my work ♡, Also a warning to anyone that decides to follow me- if you do not have your age in your bio or a pinned post I will block you… just a fair warning.

Notes: This has been sitting in my drafts for like two months now and I’m having writer's block on the main piece I’m writing and I had motivation for this so here we are! I might write a second part to this and maybe two different types, one that continues that angst/no comfort and one that is a happy ending and fluffy. This isn’t my best work and honestly I don't know how to feel about it :/

Part 1 (You’re here!) Part 2

You’re laying with your head in Ghost’s lap just thinking about things. Letting your mind wander into some saddening thoughts.

“Ghost”

“Yeah love?”

“Sometimes I’m scared I’ll never find real love.”

He doesn’t say anything but you know he’s listening, he was always listening when you spoke.

“I know I have you and the rest of the team and that we all see each other as family and I absolutely adore that, I really do.”

You pause thinking about what you want to say.

“I want someone to love me. Not my body or who I am at work. I want them to be in love with my soul and I want to love their soul right back.”

This whole time you had been picking at a loose string on Ghost's cargo pants but finally risked looking up at him and for once he’s not looking at you instead he’s staring up at the ceiling.

You look away again.

“I want to be so comfortable with the love that we have that when we wake up in the morning my first thought isn’t about how if I look okay or if I looked like I was attacked by a pack of wild dogs,” you push air out of your nose in an attempt to laugh, “I want to make myself a cup of coffee and bring them a cup of tea exactly how they like it and there be a comfortable silence. I want to watch the sun rise with them and know that they love me as much as I love them.”

You look up to find him already staring down at you, his pupils dilated to the point of almost pushing the soft molten out completely.

His thumb drifts across your cheek gently memorizing every line from the ones around your eyes from how much you always laughed to the ones that settle between your eyebrows from the amount of time you’d stressed over everyone’s safety.

The moment is interrupted though with pain filled coughs wracking your body causing your head to jostle in his lap.

The hand that’s holding your tightens.

Once the coughing stops you wipe your loose hand across your mouth and find dark red liquid on it that almost looks black.

“Simon.”

He blinks hard.

This was the first time you had used his name during a mission.

You’d only start calling him that when you were both alone on base having early morning conversations while he drank his tea and you your coffee.

You reach a hand up and slide it underneath his mask to rest it on his cheek.

“Simon promise me you’ll find a love like that.”

His eyes search yours and all he can find is love and adoration. You had lost enough blood that you were starting to go numb, your body finally taking mercy on you in your final moments.

His hand reaches up to cover the one you still have under his mask and grips it tightly almost as if he’s trying to ground himself.

You two were not alone in the room but you had already said your goodbyes to everyone else leaving Simon for last. You were worried about what your death would bring for the team, not about the consequences of anyone’s actions but the emotional stability of everyone. They already had hard times dealing with when one of their own were taken but you had yet to see their reaction to anyone that they were close to dying but you’d always imagined that you would be there for them. You would be but they wouldn’t be able to see you, you promised that you would still watch over them in death just like you did in life. You’d become their guardian angel.

Ghost never showed any weakness, he wouldn’t allow himself to after what happened to his family but somehow you wiggled your way into the heart that he thought he had locked and thrown into the deepest darkest parts of the ocean. But Ghost wasn’t the one that was present in this situation, it was Simon.

Simon, the man who knew your exact coffee order, the one that knew how annoyed you’d get at the smallest things when you were tired but you’d never take it out on anyone, the one who knew your real past, the only one you had shown your real full self too.

He knew it was dangerous to fall in love with you. Not because of your work but because he knew if he let you in he’d never be able to let you go and he was fucking terrified of that. He didn’t know who he’d become when you died and even the rest of the team was worried about that. They’d never seen him become so vicious in the field before but once he found out that you’d been hurt, it’s like all he could see was red. He took 8 men all by himself with just a combat knife and his fists. He walked away covered in blood, none of it his.

He blinks again, focusing on you, finding you smiling softly at him.

“You think too much Simon.”

He ignores that.

“Dove,” He runs a hand-covered glove across your cheek.

You drum your fingers against his hand gently at the pet name giving a soft hum.

That was his name for you in the soft moments. He claimed that you were too good, too pure, too caring to be in this line of work.

“But I already found a love like that.”

You let out a choked laugh mixing with the sound of a sob at the same time.

“I know, baby.” Under different circumstances you would’ve never let that term of endearment slip out of your mouth but in this moment you didn’t care.

You can’t help but cough again making blood splatter onto his vest, you try to wipe it off but he just grips your hand and shakes his head gently.

“I got lucky enough to find the love I was always looking for but was too chicken shit to say anything about it.” You attempt to laugh again but it only comes out in a heavy wheeze and your eyesight is starting to go slightly blurry.

You’re starting to panic. You don’t want to die. No no no no. You weren’t ready.

Another sob leaves your chest and you can see the pain in Simon’s eyes, one tear comes out sliding down his cheek and under your hand that is starting to go slightly slack.

“Simon I’m not ready,” your words are becoming slurred, “I don’t want to leave you yet.”

For once Simon didn’t know what to say, he never expected to be in this situation. You weren’t supposed to be bleeding out on a random bed in a shitty safe house waiting for evac that most likely wouldn’t make it in time. He had promised himself he would die for you, die before you. No matter what, you were supposed to be the one to outlive him, make it out of the military life to maybe one day start a family or maybe open that little bakery where you also took in cats to help them find new homes. You were supposed to make it out alive, not him. Not ghost.

He leans down pressing his forehead to yours, “It’s okay love, you don’t have to stay for me. It’s okay to let go.”

You shake your head violently trying to keep yourself awake. Keep yourself away from the warm comfort your mind was offering up to you. To focus on the man that you love.

“But Simon.”

He shushes you gently and you can feel the tears running down his cheek and under your hand. It causes the makeup around his eyes to run slowly, cleaning away the black stains, washing Ghost away and letting more of Simon be revealed.

You didn’t want to do this to him. You had finally started to see Simon come alive and you didn’t want to rip that from him.

Urgently you blink your eyes even though it’s almost like you’re staring out a foggy window and can really only see his eyes now. But that’s all that mattered, you could read everything Simon was thinking and feeling just from his eyes alone.

Pain. Anger. Sorrow.

Love.

“Simon, I need you to live for me.”

He breathes deeply, “Love—“

“No, Simon I mean it,”

“Don’t let yourself fade away.” You take a deep breath.

“I need you to find that love again.”

For some reason you remember the conversation you had only hours ago, sitting on that rooftop. Before you knew you wouldn’t make it to the next morning. You had asked him what he wanted to do after the military and at first he just shook his head. He wasn’t supposed to make it out. This was his life and it was going to be his death. You knocked shoulders with him though, you knew what he was thinking and you always threatened to kill him yourself if he ever thought of dying in the field. You told him he wasn’t allowed to die, he had to help you find the perfect spot for your coffee shop and his pub.

“Oh, and that pub you talked about opening? You should really do it.”

You smile at him gently, your eyes starting to slide shut and you can see the panic in his eyes. You didn’t want him to panic, everything was going to be okay.

You tried to tell him that, saying the words in your mind but your lips didn’t move once.

Hi my lovelies, I hope you liked this little fic! Feedback is appreciated but not necessary. Anyways I hope you all have an amazing day <3

Requests are open! I can not promise when or if I will write them but I do prefer requests that are slightly more specific as I find them a little bit easier to write but it’s not required. Thanks for reading my darlings ♡

#random0lover my writing #angst/no comfort #cod angst #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #Simon ghost Riley x GN!reader #ghost x gn reader #cod x reader #cod x gn!reader #modern warfare ii x reader #modern warefare 2 #ghost angst #hurt/no comfort

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burntb4bydoll · 1 year

Note

POST CONCERT SEGZ WITH 2023 BILL STILL UNDER THAT ADRENALINE RUSH AND RISKING TO GET CAUGHT

I. LOVE. THIS.

2023 Bill Kaulitz x reader

Summery: Bill uses his sweet s/o to help with some post-concert adrenaline

Warnings:smut duh, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, biting, fingering, almost getting caught, Bill uses so many pet names

You and the rest of the band ran off stage after your concert. This whole tour has been such an amazing experience and everyone was so happy to be performing. Once you all got backstage, Bill immediately pulled you into him so that he could press his lips on yours. You both melt into the kiss, moving closer to each other as you continued your passionate kiss. The rest of the band left to go to their dressing rooms to calm down before heading out of the venue.

“I wanna feel you sweetheart, lets go to my dressing room ok?” You grinned widely and trailed closely behind Bill, holding onto his arm the whole way to the room. He opened the door and pulled you into the dimly lit room. Bill pushes your body up onto the dresser that was next to the door and your lips meet again. The kiss was messy and rough, both of you too eager to care. You let out a gasp when Bill moved his mouth down to your neck and bites you. Your hand flys up to his head to pull him closer to your body. The room suddenly felt too hot to manage.

“Bill,” you pant “want my clothes off please. ‘S so hot in here.” Bill trails kisses up your neck til he reaches your ear. He gently bites your earlobe and whispers,

“So polite honey. I love when you ask so nicely.” He moves to pull down your pants. Once he got your pants off, he uses his thumb to rub your achingly wet pussy through your underwear. “You’re so cute baby, did I make you this needy?” You whine and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his chest onto yours. He pushes your underwear to the side and runs his fingers through your wetness. You feel your body shudder and you subconsciously arch your body into his.

“Want you so bad Billy please! Need your fingers in me!” Bill sucks in a breath at the nickname. You are the only person who calls him that, and you usually only use it when you are begging him for whatever it is you want. He pushes two of his fingers into you and starts rubbing your clit with his thumb. But he gives you no time to think before speeding up his hand movements. You gasp and grabbed onto his wrist, trying to get him to slow down. “Ah! God Bill s-slow down~!”

“Thought you wanted my fingers baby? You can take them can’t you?” He hisses as you dig your nails into his wrist.

“Need you in me Bill. Wanna cum with you, please?” You ask him, as sweet as possible. He softly kisses your forehead and pull his hand away from you. You frown until he pulls his pants down. He uses your wetness from his fingers to prep himself, then lines up at your entrance. You pull him towards you till your lips find his to silence your pornographic moans as he bottoms out inside of you.

“Need you to be good, ok? Stay quiet for me sweetheart, or else someone might hear. You don’t want that do you?” You look at him and nod obediently. Bill grabs your thighs and starts thrusting into you. Both of you pant quietly, and you bite his shoulder lightly in attempt muffle your whines. You move your hips to meet his thrusts and he pushes his face into your hair to quiet his own groans of pleasure. You feel yourself getting closer to your release and you can feel Bill coming closer too.

“Hey! Bill you in there? We gotta leave in like 10 minutes come on!” A muffled voice calls out to him through the door. Bill just puts his fingers in your mouth to block out your sounds. Another knock came from the door and someone jiggles the handle, clearly trying to come in.

“Yeah give me a second!” He yelled back, trying to make sure his voice doesn’t sound to shaky. You hear footsteps disappear down the hallway and Bill leans closer to your ear, “Cum with me honey, be a good girl hm?” His words send you over the edge and he pulls out after your done to finish on your stomach.

“Hey are you guys fucking in there?!”

#bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz x reader #gustav schafer x reader #georg listing x reader

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zandlikething · 2 months

Text

WARNING BIG SPOILERS FOR QSMP BAD POV AND A LITTLE BIT OF PHIL POV ALSO JUST A LOT OF RAMBLING READ AT YOUR OWN RISK BECAUSE WOOO BOY THERE A LOT AND IM NOT EVEN DONE YET

I have so many thoughts on Bad's last stream the fact like OMG my heart QSMP needs to pay for all of our therapy

I'll probably do another post because holy crap there is a lot that happened today

I thought it was sweet Dapper and Pomme went to qPhil first because Dapper said they know he has concretions to some kind of goddess of death obviously referring to Kristin but I still am not sure if she is actually canons but it was a cute reference and it's nice to know that Phil has lots of tickets if they need cookies this week.

But also like Damn Phil cannot get a break first Tubbo now Bad I swear soon all the eggs will be ophans /j

Also apparently Taulluah is seeing the ghost of the eggs that died and one more. Idk if it's also an egg or something/someone else but if it's an egg I think it's either: 1. A-1 the egg that evil quackity was testing and died or Hope.

For those who don't remember Hope was an egg in a different orphanage than the original eggs that Cellbit found a while ago. The egg left a diary of their time in the orphanage. No one came for the egg and died but told that whoever is reading their book should not be sad for them. That's all I remember I'd have to go back and look to see what else I can find.

ANYWAYS Yeah so Taulluah sees ghosts now that are sad for some reason and she doesn't know why and Bad is missing and also presumably dead or a ghost? Because as we were following Dapper and Pomme on Bad's stream the thing would have reactions a lot of like what Bad would have. Like nodding and shaking his head or rolling his head for rolling his eyes. It all just felt very Bad like.

Also he was very against using any spells of stuff to block spirits so I think it might be Bad somehow looking out for them but not able to talk or interact with them for some reason.

I know these are a lot of signs at once but I find it very sweet that Dapper despite everything is trying to keep a positive view of everything and trying to cheer Pomme up.

I love how this is the plan they come up with to get Bad back lol 😆 I'm sure they'll come up with a real plan but who knows this could maybe work

Dapper and Pomme did this a lot and I love it. Them just leaning their heads together silently telling the other it's ok we are together aggghhh it is so sweet. And the fact that they did it multiple times I imagine just reassuring the other and themselves that they are there.

This was so pretty and nice just Dapper and Pomme watching the sunset (07 Bobby) together going over memories

Talking about their dead siblings and Max saying they should build a new place for them to remember them and wish them a Happy birthday every month

I didn't get screenshots of it but Dapper telling Pomme that all of their past siblings would have loved her with how sweet Tiln was and how good it was to be around Flippa, how Trump would have loved picking flowers with her and how Bobby would have loved doing pvp with Pomme :,) like bro I am literally tearing up

I am going to make a part two because tumbler is at its limit of how many screenshots I can show because guess what there is more heartwarming and heartbreaking stuff I need to talk and show

#qsmp thoughts #i have so many thoughts like holy shit #qsmp theory #qsmp #qsmp spoilers #dapper qsmp #qsmp pomme #qsmp tallulah #qsmp bbh #qsmp badboyhalo #qsmp rambles #qsmp screenshots #qsmp eggs #qsmp rant #qsmp bobby #qsmp tilin #qsmp trump #qsmp flippa #quackity smp

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universitypenguin · 8 months

Text

Chapter 19

The Princess & the Lawyer

Summary: Princess tries to make things right with Lloyd. An arrest is made in the case and fur flies when Detective Roth meets Lloyd for the first time.

Word Count: 4,643

Masterlist

Warnings: References to stalking, murder, serial killings, criminal investigations into violent crimes

Author’s Note: The winds from the outer bands of Hurricane Hillary are just starting to blow up to my area and it knocked out my electricity for a few hours (thanks, Spectrum Internet! 😤) Fortunately, it’s back on now and I can finally post this chapter!

Chapter XIX

Sunlight gleamed off the slow-moving Shenandoah River and reflected across the valley. Lloyd’s cabin was perched overlooking the basin where the river wound around a bend and slowed to a crawl. From your current position on the front porch, the river looked more like a sheet of glass than a body of water. Lloyd had brought you here after you’d been released from the hospital. Landon arrived the next day with a suitcase of your clothes and took up quarters in the basement. His presence had been a welcome relief from the thick fog of tension hanging over the cabin.

“Are you going to talk to him soon?” Landon asked.

You tucked your knees under your chin, wrapped your arms around them, and stared at the ex-SEAL without really seeing him. The idea of apologizing had been circulating on a loop in your head for the past seventy-two hours.

“I don’t know what to say. It’s like there’s a wall of ice between us.”

“Yeah. I didn’t realize a person could get frostbite in the middle of August until I spent a few hours with you two. Is this how you normally fight?”

“No. Lloyd usually blows up. The only person I’ve seen act like this is Zach. And we know how that usually goes.”

Landon winced. There was no softening the burnt of Zach’s temper. Reason and appeasement had no effect on it - once he turned into Jack Frost all you could do was wait until he de-thawed. Landon leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the armrest.

“Finding out the way he did was hard on him.”

You shut your eyes as if doing so would block out the truth of his statement.

“I know. Not telling him was wrong, but the risk of him losing control and doing something reckless was too much. I was trying to protect him.”

Landon’s eyes softened. “Everyone knows how much you try to shield Lloyd, but you can’t always stand between him and the rest of the world.”

“I’ve seen him spiral before. I don’t want to do anything that would send him down that path again… but here we are. He’s barely looked at me for more than three seconds in the last few days and he’s treating me like a barely tolerable houseguest.”

“You have to talk to him. It’s been three days and quite frankly, I’m sick of walking on eggshells around you two. He’s not angry. He’s hurt. That’s why you’re not seeing an explosion of temper.”

“He’s never been like this before and I don’t know what to say. I’ve been trying to figure it out for days.”

Landon shot you a sardonic look. “Princess, get it through your thick skull: Lloyd isn’t angry, he’s hurt. You’ve never seen him like this before because you’re the only one who could make him feel like this.”

“Trust me, underneath that hurt, he’s angry. Lloyd is always angry.”

“Fear lies at the center of anger. He’s afraid your relationship is broken and that’s why he can’t look at you. Come on, take one for the team - and by team I mean myself. Go talk to him.”

“How do I face him after what I did?”

“He won’t bite,” Landon said.

“No, but his razor blade tongue should be registered as a weapon.”

Landon’s phone buzzed on the unfinished porch railing. He checked the message.

“If you’re going to apologize anytime soon, do it now. Zach is on his way up with Bishop. They just stopped in town for gas and they’ll be here in thirty minutes or so.”

You glanced through the window into the living room where Lloyd sat on the couch, laptop in front of him, scowling. Your stomach pitched at the prospect of the conversation you needed to have.

Landon stood up, his chair scraping against the unfinished planks of the porch floor. “I’ll take a walk down to the river and give you guys some privacy.”

“You’re leaving me alone with him?!”

“You made this mess, you clean it up.”

“If you hear screaming, come rescue me,” you muttered.

Landon crossed the yard to the trail leading down to the river basin and disappeared into the thick wilderness.

You were suddenly alone. Your hands clenched until your fingernails dug into your palms. There wouldn’t be a good time to do this. You’d never feel ready for it, and Landon was right - walking on eggshells was exhausting. You pushed to your feet, pulse thrumming in double time and turned the knob on the cabin door with trembling fingers, steeling yourself for the ugly confrontation.

Lloyd didn’t look up when you shut the door. He was too engrossed in his laptop. You paused and took in his furrowed brow as he tapped the down arrow to scroll through a page. Finally, when it became clear he wasn’t going to acknowledge your presence until you demanded it, you stepped forward.

“Lloyd? I need to talk to you.”

His finger paused on the keyboard and even though he didn’t look up, you pressed forward.

“I didn’t tell you about the stalker because I thought Aiden was behind the messages and I didn’t want you to react impulsively. I figured he was upset about losing his job and had decided to take his frustration out on me. That’s why I got in touch with his father. It seemed like the most efficient way to handle things.”

Before you could continue, Lloyd’s scowl deepened, and he resumed tapping the keyboard.

“Where’s the transcript of my interviews with Dr. Nguyen? I thought I saved them to my files.”

“The interviews? Um… there should be a copy in your email.”

He grunted and began typing. A few clicks later, his chin tilted up.

“Found it.”

You pressed a hand to your hot cheek, took a deep breath, and marshaled your courage.

“Lloyd, I’m trying to talk to you. I want to explain-”

He wasn’t listening. His fingers were dancing over the keyboard and he was blatantly ignoring you. Peaking over his shoulder you saw the website of the local news station pulled up on the laptop.

“I need to catch this broadcast,” Lloyd said tersely.

Your shoulders slumped. Repressing a sigh, you sat down and decided to wait him out.

The anchor’s voice filled the small living room, announcing their lead story - a thunderstorm warning and flood watch. You settled in as they turned to their human interest story about Harmony High School students giving back to the community with a fundraiser for the local food bank. Then the ‘Breaking News’ banner appeared on screen and you sat up straighter as you read it.

“Now, to the latest developments in a breaking news story. The arrest of a suspected serial killer has stunned the community of Harmony, Virginia. Leo McKenzie, an evidence clerk with the State Police, has been taken into custody and charged with twelve counts of murder.”

You gasped.

“Hush, I’m trying to listen,” Lloyd said.

“The case drags up ghosts of the past. In 2003, Dr. Shun Nguyen attracted international attention to the town of Harmony when he was arrested and charged with the murder of his girlfriend. Nguyen was widely considered to be responsible for the rash of disappearances of several local women between 1999 and 2001, culminating in the murder of his girlfriend in 2002. However, his conviction for that crime was overturned in 2013…”

The reporter droned on as you watched, growing confused as the cameras showed the Fairfax County Sheriff arresting a man in his mid-sixties with graying blond hair. He was stocky and dressed in a rumpled green button down and khaki slacks. His expression was slack with shock as he was escorted to a Sheriff’s cruiser.

“McKenzie’s arrest has cast a fresh spotlight on these unsolved cases, igniting painful memories for the families affected. We’ll keep you updated on this developing story throughout the night. Stay tuned for more right here on-”

Lloyd muted the video. You turned to him and for the first time in days he met your gaze.

“Leo McKenzie? The guy who leaked information for the Rolling Stone article?”

“He’s not a bad suspect,” Lloyd said. “Zach found evidence that he’s tampered with evidence before. Plus, he went out of his way to de-stabilize our relationship with the Roth when he contacted Peter Shaw and framed us for leaking confidential information.”

“You think he’s the killer?”

“No. There’s a few holes in the logic, but I’m waiting to see if those can be resolved. The fact that he leaked information to journalists and tried to manipulate the narrative around the case is significant.”

You tried not to be surprised at how quickly Lloyd had gotten up to speed in a few days.

“This was a calculated move,” Lloyd said, his gaze returning to the muted news cast. “There’s enough agencies gunning for the credit on this case that it wouldn’t have taken much more than a well-timed tip-off to persuade the Fairfax Sheriff to make an arrest.”

You nodded. “Right.”

“It’s impressive, really,” Lloyd mused. “Zach is quite the strategist. I hadn’t planned on making a maneuver this bold, but if it gets McKenzie off the street…”

Your mouth fell open. “Zach is behind the arrest?”

“He didn’t run it by me, but I suspect this is what he’s coming up here to discuss. Leo McKenzie crossed him with that journalist and even though it probably wasn’t intended as a personal slight, Zach’s not the forgiving kind.”

“And I thought I was pissed off by Roth’s decision,” you murmured.

“Zach didn’t blame Roth. He went for the root cause of the problem: McKenzie.”

Put like that, the connection between Zach’s interference and Leo’s arrest was undoubtable. You glanced at the clock and saw that he’d be arriving soon. The deadline refocused you on your goal.

“Lloyd, as I was saying, I want to explain why I didn’t tell you what was going on. When I thought Aiden was responsible, I didn’t want to put you in a situation where you’d react before we’d gathered all the facts. I thought what I was doing was appropriate, but in retrospect…”

He stood up and paced to the window and stood there, staring at the driveway. You heard the crunch of wheels over gravel and understood what he was watching for. Zach had arrived. Your eyes closed on a wave of regret.

Great. Lloyd wasn’t listening to a word you had just said.

“Zach brought company.”

*****

Bishop and Detective Roth arrived with Zach.

They shuffled into the living room with the rugged-faced detective trailing behind. He was dressed exactly the same as he’d been the last two times you’d seen him. A white collared shirt, striped red tie, and his holstered weapon prominently displayed on his right hip. His nod of greeting to you was barely perceptible. In response, you crossed your arms over your chest.

Childish, perhaps, but you were still irritated with him and he was interrupting your conversation with Lloyd. Bishop made introductions and Lloyd and Roth immediately began sizing each other up like boxers dancing around a ring.

“I looked into your previous work, Mr. Hansen. You’re quite the character. It seems your investigative techniques involve more theatrics than actual evidence gathering.”

“And your speciality seems to be old cases and old gossip. Slow and methodical hasn’t paid off in the Nguyen case, now, has it?”

“Slow and methodical is standard procedure and I’m a standard procedure kind of guy. It helps me maintain my credibility, which reminds me, your kidnapping conviction got you disbarred, didn’t it?”

Lloyd smirked. “So, you’ve been through my international portfolio as well.”

Roth studied him with an inscrutable expression, then the corner of his lip twitched. “What did you have to do with Leo McKenzie’s arrest? The Sheriff wasn’t supposed to take him into custody until next week.”

“I’d love to take credit but it wasn’t me. However, McKenzie is at the top of my suspect list.”

“What position?” Roth asked.

“Second place.”

Bishop lips pursed. “I can’t believe Sheriff Cerano swept in and arrested him so quickly, considering the history of this case.”

“He’s got enough evidence to hold him, thanks to my team,” Detective Roth said.

“What are the charges?” Zach asked.

“Tampering with evidence, improper release of classified information, and other charges related to his conduct as an evidence clerk. I’d like to apologize for jumping to conclusions and accusing the two of you.”

You uncrossed your arms.

“Are we good?” Roth asked you.

You tilted your head. “Consider yourself on probationary forgiveness. I’ll let you know in a few days if it becomes permanent.”

Roth looked at Lloyd. “Is she always so hardheaded?”

“Sometimes. Usually it’s directed at me, so this is a nice change of pace. Let’s sit down and compare notes.”

Despite the earlier verbal sparring, or perhaps because of it, Lloyd and Roth put aside their differences and shifted into professional mode as everyone assembled in the living room.

“I consider Leo McKenzie our prime suspect,” Detective Roth said.

Bishop scowled. “Why?”

“There’s long term storage of the surveillance camera footage in the evidence lockers. We were able to confirm that McKenzie wasn’t at work on the night of April 18th.”

“Was he scheduled to work?” Zach asked.

“Yes, swing shift, but he swapped with a co-worker. The co-worker reports McKenzie told them he was going to a concert,’” Roth said.

Lloyd crossed his legs. “A concert in the middle of the week? That’s ridiculous. Is there any other evidence against him?”

“He owns a .22 caliber rifle and matches the description of the person Mr. Corbin saw at Shun’s house on that same night, April 18th. He’s been known to smoke occasionally and frequented the same coffee shop where Julia’s book club met.”

“What about access to the chemicals to dissolve her corpse?” Lloyd asked.

“His work as an evidence clerk might explain that,” Bishop said.

“Technically speaking, all the ingredients he needed are available over the counter,” Roth said.

Lloyd grunted. “What about knowledge of the area where the bodies were dumped?”

“He kayaks up there every summer and his uncle used to work in the concrete industry,” Roth said. “At the moment he’s our top suspect. The Sheriff was preparing to arrest him on charges of improperly handling evidence and obstruction of justice. That’s sufficient to hold him for a long while. Virginia law enforcement jointly decided that everyone would be safer if he was off the streets.”

“So, if you have your man, why are you here?” Lloyd said.

“Because knowing he had the opportunity, means, and access to commit a crime isn’t the same thing as being able to prove he did it. That’s why I need your help. We have a window of opportunity to prove a solid case against him, but it won’t be easy. Bishop and I have discussed it with my superiors and we’re inviting you down to Harmony on a full-time basis to assist with the investigation. You’ll even get your own shared office.”

“It’s the conference room, isn’t it?” Zach asked.

“A windowless conference room,” Roth said, his lips twitching into a smirk.

The Detective’s gaze shifted to you and he tilted his head. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’m very interested in seeing the database you were working on for the case.”

*****

The guests stayed for dinner but left quickly afterwards to get back before the storm made landfall. Lloyd took a walk down to the river and you retreated to the living room where Landon was relaxing with his feet up.

“I take it apologizing didn’t go well?”

You sighed. “It didn’t go at all.”

“How come?”

“He wouldn’t hear me out. I managed three half apologies but he wouldn’t let me finish.”

“Are you going to try again, or call it a night?” Landon asked.

Your shoulders straightened. Where was your spine? Sure, all things considered, you weren’t at the top of your game this week, but the ability to make Lloyd listen was a skill you’d mastered a long time ago. If you couldn’t get through to him, then you had lost more of your self-confidence than you’d realized.

“I’m going down to the river.”

“Have fun…”

Lloyd was easy to find. He was on a bench by the water with a legal pad on his knee, reading a handful of loose leaf pages. As he read, he paused every now and then to consult his legal pad and twirl a pen around his fingers. You paused at the bottom of the concrete stairs that led down to the river basin and watched him from a distance.

His alabaster complexion was darker than usual from a summer of golfing and the week spent on the ranch. His thick hair ruffled a little in the wind because he hadn’t worn as much hair gel at the cabin, choosing to smooth his hair back instead of plastering it into place like usual.

You liked the more relaxed look on him. You wished the image matched his mood but the rigidity in his shoulders proved he was just as tense as he’d been since Tuesday.

When you approached he tucked the pages into his legal pad and clipped the pen to the pad. You sat down on the far end of the bench, leaving an arm’s length between you. The wind carried the scent of pine trees and the smell of rain hung in the air as storm clouds amassed in the southeast. The atmosphere between you held a quiet tension, an undercurrent of repressed anger. The gusting winds that rustled the leaves seemed to echo the mood. You shivered as a gust of wind cut through your blouse.

Lloyd leaned back. “You didn’t need to come all the way down here. It’s getting cold.”

“I’m fine,” you said, wrapping your arms around your torso. “I wanted to apologize. I guess my timing this afternoon wasn’t great. I was only halfway through when Zach arrived.”

“I was still too pissed at you to listen.”

“I gathered as much. I’m sorry for not telling you about the stalking. It was wrong of me to cover it up, especially for as long as I did.”

He sighed, eyes drifting to fixate on the water. “What was it? You thought I’d over react?”

Your hands twisted in your lap. “Yes. Your temper is a force of nature and you don’t have a great sense of self-preservation under the best conditions. You dive headfirst into danger without considering the consequences or your odds of survival.”

“Princess, I’ve faced much worse threats than a vertically challenged lunatic with sharp elbows. I can handle myself. Don’t worry about me.”

“But I do worry about you! I know you can take care of yourself, but as your friend it’s my job to protect you, too - including from yourself! When I decided not to tell you what was going on, that’s what I thought I was doing. After what happened on Tuesday, I know how wrong that was. I’m sorry for hurting you by holding back something I should’ve shared with you as soon as I was aware of it.”

“What was the other half of your apology? I think we got to about this point before I cut you off.”

“I’m sorry for not trusting you to respond with restraint and assuming you’d fly off the handle. Overall, you’ve taken this a lot more calmly than I thought you would.”

His left eyebrow arched. “Calmly? If you hadn’t willingly gotten in the car on Tuesday afternoon, I’d have thrown you in the trunk.”

“And compared to what I thought you might do, that was a very restrained reaction.”

Lloyd snorted. “Don’t be so sure. If Aiden had been your stalker I’d gladly have taken him apart with my bare hands. That’s part of what pissed me off. Your reasons for not telling me were valid. As much as I wanted to tear into you for it, I can’t deny that point. I guess I feel more disappointed than anything. I’ve always struggled with honesty, but with you, it was easy. I didn’t realize that trust was a one-way street.”

You groaned. “If this is you ‘not tearing into me’ I’d hate to have seen what you had in mind earlier.”

He shifted closer and a thick arm curled around your shoulders. You snuggled into his chest as another gust of wind kicked up.

“I really am sorry,” you said. “I’ll say it as many times as you want.”

“Since I’ve been giving you the cold shoulder for the past three days, I think we can call it even.”

You squeezed his waist and burrowed into his arms. “I promise to be more honest with you, even when I’m worried about your reaction.”

His lips brushed your temple. “I’ll try not to sulk so long next time you decide to bottle things up.”

“Is that a whiff of skepticism I’m sensing? You don’t think I’ll be honest?”

“You protect others, Princess. It’s in your nature. But your takeaway from this experience needs to be that lies of omission aren’t how you protect me, or yourself. I need you and I…”

Love you.

Your heart leapt as you filled in the next words, holding your breath to hear him say them for the first time.

“Was that a drop of rain?” Lloyd said.

*****

You and Lloyd made it back to the front porch of the cabin just as the clouds opened up and poured rain down in buckets. Both of you had escaped the worst of the onslaught, but droplets went flying when Lloyd shook out his hair. You squealed when the water hit your face.

“Sorry, honey,” he said, and held open the door for you.

There was no sight of Landon in the living room, so you assumed he’d retreated to the basement.

Lloyd led you upstairs to the loft which housed the master bedroom. He tossed his legal pad on the bed and went to retrieve towels from the bathroom. You stripped off your wet clothes in the closet and found a clean t-shirt of Lloyd's to slip on. When he came out of the bathroom with the towels, you were sitting on the bed leafing through his legal pad.

“Who’s Tate Corbin?”

“You remember Nguyen’s across the street neighbor? Mr. Corbin?”

“Yes. These notes are about him?”

Lloyd rubbed the towel across his damp hair.

“Yeah. Corbin doesn’t have a file, officially at least, so I’ve spent the past couple days putting one together.”

“Why?”

“Because after l reviewed everything Zach has collected on McKenzie, there was one glaring problem. Leo McKenzie isn’t good at chemistry. He failed the class in high school and took the easiest science credit he could in college: Biology 101 for general studies. He passed with a C minus.”

“Not everyone can be a scientific genius.”

“I doubt our killer is a scientific genius, but they know the basics of chemicals, either by trade or education. The brittle bones that were observed in Julia’s remains and the lack of bodies from the remains from the other nine victims points to a chemical dissolution process of some kind. Leo McKenzie doesn’t have the knowledge to perform that kind of a reaction.”

You made a face of disgust at the imagery his words brought to mind and scanned through the file.

“It says he wasn’t named as a person of interest in 2002. Why wasn’t he a suspect?”

“Actually, the first responding officer did raise suspicions about Mr. Corbin. When he answered the door the next evening - this wasn’t long after Shun was taken in for his first round of questioning - he appeared sweaty and pale. Mr. Corbin attributed it to being on a new blood pressure medication.”

“Did he work with chemicals?” you asked.

“He was a merchant marine in the 50s and 60s, working for companies like Odfjell and Stolt-Nielsen.”

“What does that have to do with the case?”

Lloyd’s grin widened. “Odfjell and Stolt-Nielsen were chemical tanker companies. left the industry in the late 60s and settled down in Fredericksburg. He got married, had two kids, and in 1975 the family moved to Harmony where Corbin started a contracting business. His specialty was laying foundations. Between the physical nature of his work and a penchant for jogging and hiking, Corbin stayed in excellent shape. He even hiked the Appalachian Trail from start to finish in 2003.”

“This is interesting, but what about the evidence Roth and Zach collected against Leo?”

Lloyd shrugged. “He’s worth investigating. I’m open to the possibility that he’s the killer, if evidence comes to light that he knew enough chemistry to dissolve a body. But the way Shun reacted when you questioned him about who the killer might be has stuck in my head. He was clearly afraid of someone, so I’ve been trying to figure out who.”

“Right, I noticed that too. He was visibly shaken when I told him about the second body.”

“Shun’s social circle wasn’t extensive, which narrows the potential suspects to his coworkers and a handful of other associates. When I couldn’t establish a connection between Shun and Leo, I kept searching, which led me to Tate Corbin. The guy is a towering ex-sailor with a linebacker’s shoulders. If he posed a threat to Shun, it could explain why Shun didn’t fight the charges harder or point the finger at another suspect.”

You flipped to Corbin’s demographics page and checked the data. “But Tate is eighty-three years old now. Why wouldn’t Shun just take his story to the media?”

“Remember his reaction to hearing about the second body? Someone - probably the killer - put the fear of God in him. Besides, to Corbin, age is just a number. He’s still running half marathons and 10ks.”

“Holy smoke. Do you have his times? Like, is he any good?”

“He’s placing ahead of runners who are a third of his age. The cincher for me is that there’s only one person whose presence at the house on the evening of April 18th can be verified. By his own admission, Tate was at the crime scene and reported seeing a ‘very large man’ lurking around. Conveniently, Tate Corbin is a very large man.”

“You think he lied to the police?”

Lloyd chuckled. “I don’t think he anticipated the interrogation. When he was caught off guard, his brain couldn’t compose an entirely fictional story, so instead of lying outright, he just bent the truth.”

“Should we bring Roth into the loop?”

“Let’s continue piecing things together over the weekend. We’ll let the news about Leo circulate and make sure Tate has a chance to see it. And since we’re relocating to Roth’s conference room on Monday, we can present our findings to him then. I want to have a clearer picture of the case against Tate to make sure he merits our attention before we discuss it with Roth.”

You looked down, pretending to read, and hid a smile at Lloyd’s final comment. Evidently, Roth’s barb about theatrics had stuck its target.

“That sounds like a plan. I think working together will be good for you two.”

Lloyd rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. He’s such an asshole.”

“Mmmhhh. A real piece of work.”

Irrespective of the investigation, Monday promised to be an exciting day. The anticipation of the clash between Lloyd and Roth brought a real smile to your face for the first time in days. And as fiery as their reaction to each other might be, you had a suspicion that they might turn out to be an excellent team - if they didn’t kill each other first.

*****

Next - Chapter XX

*****

Masterlist

*****

Taglist:

@denisemarieangelina

@before-we-get-started

@buckysteveloki-me

@patzammit

@badassbaker

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@bigcreatorwombatdreamer

#the princess and the lawyer #the princess & the lawyer #Lloyd Hansen x princess #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen fanfic #lloyd x princess #lloyd hansen fic #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x female reader #lloyd hansen au #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen fanfiction #chris evans characters x reader #chris evans charaters #chris evans characters fanfic #no minors #minors dni

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hillbillyoracle · 7 months

Text

My Care Kit

I've hesitated posting about this because I know it's not hard for this to get to the wrong side of the site - because even though there's been an awesome shift in the conversation about how care can look at different levels of functioning, we're still not really there yet. So if you're rude in the comments, tags, or reblogs, expect to blocked. Cause I just don't have it in me.

With that out of the way, I wanted to talk about what's been allowing me to be infinitely more regular with skincare, grooming, and to a lesser degree dental routines - my care kit.

It's not mindblowing or original. I basically just took all the stuff I was storing in the bathroom and store it in my bedroom to use there. I'm sure plenty of people have figured this out before me but it took me a minute to realize how helpful this is.

So what's in here?

Skincare

CeraVe AM Moisturizer

The Ordinary Hyaluronic Acid

Good Molecules Discoloration Correcting Serum

CereVe "in the Tub" - Moisturizing Cream

Differin Gel*

*Differing Gel is something I only use when I take this kit to the bathroom as it's important to wash your hands after using a retinol

"But you're supposed to use it on wet skin!" - yeah I know. I keep a small spray bottle in here to wet my skin before applying

"But that can mold!" - yeah I know. It's a small one and I use it up in a few days before I need to refill it. I try to clean it regularly too.

But ultimately done is better than none. I accept some risk in order to make this accessible to me. My skin is no longer so dry it's cracking and getting infected. Thank god.

Grooming

Native Deodorant - Black Oak + Amber

Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab & Sphere and Sundry - Her Eyes That Were Full of Shining Perfume Oil

Kat Von D - Everlasting Liquid Lipstick in "Witches"

Besame Cosmetics - Black Cake Mascara

Tweezerman Tweezers

I don't use all of this all of the time but I appreciate having the option. Sometimes you know you're not getting out of bed but you'd like to look nice. Sometimes looking nice helps you get out of bed.

Not pictured but I keep a small mirror on my shelf near where I store this bag. I use that for make up and tweezing. When tweezing, I wipe the edges off with a tissue then toss it the next time I get up. I also rinse it the next time I use it at the sink. Not perfect, I know. But it helps.

I do have a facial razor in here, but I only use that at the sink at the moment. I also want to swap from disposable to reusable soon. But baby steps and all that.

Dental

And now for the part that will horrify some people and be saving grace to others.

Disposable pre-pasted toothbrushes

Sea to Summit Collapsible Cup with Lid

I won't be accepting comments on this. It's personal and I hesitated to share this because I know it's polarizing. But I know there's something like me out there for whom this would help a ton.

I have a horrible reaction to most toothpastes. I'm talking brush my teeth for 2 minutes, shitting on the toilet for multiple hours afterwards bad. It is miserable and makes me terrified to brush my teeth. I also have just always struggled with it and been shamed a lot for it.

These dang pre-pasted toothbrushes for some reason I do not react to. Idk if it's the fact I toss them after or the paste they're using somehow doesn't have the thing I'm reacting to but I can finally brush my teeth without unbearable cramps afterward.

I recommend them for people who are depressed, bedbound, or otherwise can't get to the sink to brush their teeth though. For me it falls into the camp of medical waste - which no one should be shaming anyone for - if it's this or nothing.

The collapsible cup will also put some people off. What I do is spit into the cup, cap it, then empty and clean it whenever I get up next. Gross? Maybe. But it works. I've not had issues with smell this way and since it's capped, there's no way to spill it if I lose my balance or accidentally kick it.

Miscellaneous

Holotaco Nail Kit

Badger Sleep Balm

The nail kit was a gift and boy oh boy is it nice. You don't need this one but something like this is a godsend. It is so nice to be able to clip nails back, file them, and clean them up without needing to like make a session of it in the bathroom. I'm considering adding my fav base coat, nail polish, and top coat so I can more easily paint them too.

Badger Sleep Balm has become a part of how I wind down and also how I help recover from panic attacks. I've taught myself some basics of self massage and use this to make it go a little easier. I really recommend learning. There are some good videos on youtube and I get fewer cricks in my neck now.

Conclusion

I really hope this helps someone out. Maybe this doesn't suit your particular use case but I hope it serves as an example that sometimes you're not keeping your desired routines because the environment needs a redesign and sometimes that requires thinking outside the box a little.

#accessibility #acessibility hacks #life hacks #no clue what to tag this

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roadhogsbigbelly · 4 months

Note

can you see where she says “private”? private sexual activities, between consenting adults? like being private in their own homes, like you said?

and the abuse you’re talking about ISNT “part of the package”, there is literally no reason to normalize it in this way, you are implying there is a ~dangerous slippery slide~ between kink and abuse like a republican where there fucking isn’t. i think those kinks ““stop”” there because thats where they go from something between two consenting parties and abuse. risk aware consent matters first and foremost, which isn’t possible in an abusive situation.

and as for why she reblogged it, if you were looking around that time, you would’ve noticed it was in the midst of another trans woman getting pedojacketed and called out for bullshit! kind of crazy, but she reblogged the post for the reasons she described on it, instead of your fanfiction headcanon that casts her as a pedophile apologist.

this is the last ask i'm going to repond to and than i'm going to block you because it's very clear nothing i'm going to do or say is going to change your mind and my mutuals are genuinely concerned for my mental health. so yes the post did not say "pedophilia is good" most posts don't, most posts also don't say "transphobia is good" or "antisemintism is good" or "zionism is good" or "racism is good" must people use dogwhiles of language that's seem reasonable but with context of how the person is and they're other beliefs makes the post bad or even rethinks why you liked the original post at all.

you yourself have called out people for a reblogging a post that used transmisogynistic dog whistles. as you should, but people could use the exact same defenses you and her are using to dismiss criticism of the post. "what am i expected to do a background check on every post i reblog" and "i never said anything bad about trans women so why are you lumping me in with the person i reblogged" and like no not the inherently harmless ones but the one's that discuss gender politics or kinks or race, yeah you kind of have to AT least be able to spot dogwhistles, and when you're informed what the post actually means and you ignore it, that doesn't help your case.

they're are many posts that seem feminist and perfectly accurate but than when you find out when op talks about "men" they're actually talking about trans woman that obviously should make you reevaluate the post. very often i'll see people being like "a terf wrote this post so i stole it and it's transmisogynistic but with "terfs dni' added onto it.

the post isn't just bad BECAUSE a pedophile wrote, but the fact that it was SHOULD make you reavulate the post and the message it's sending. again this wasn't a post about pancakes or waffles or whatever it was a post about ageplay and incest kink written by someone who has a lot of reason for people to agree with them. this actually matters.

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anonymousewrites · 5 months

Text

Portal to My Heart (Book 3) Chapter Five

Loki x Reader

Chapter Five: Under the Skin

Summary: The interrogation begins.

“Okay, let’s keep it simple,” decided Mobius as he, (Y/N), Loki, and B-15 walked towards the holding cell Brad Wolfe/X-5 was being held in. “Where’s Dox? Where’s Sylvie? And what did he do to the Tempad? That’s all we need to find out, okay? But of course, Brad knows us, and he knows our tactics. But that’s what makes for an interesting chess match. Okay, most of all, Brad’s an asshole.”

(Y/N) nodded affirmatively.

“So don’t let him get under your skin, alright? Okay?” Mobius gave a certain someone a pointed look. “Loki?”

“What?” said Loki, acting oblivious as everyone looked at him.

“You know what,” said (Y/N) while Mobius went to the door.

“Come on,” he said, pushing the door open.

They stepped into the barren room, and Brad turned around in his chair to face them.

“Oh, welcome back. Why don’t you go ahead and take this time collar off and start treating me like someone who outranks you?” sneered Brad, going immediately to the asshole act.

“We don’t work here,” said (Y/N), folding her arms. She and Loki just joined in to defeat He Who Remains, and before that, they were forced to work to not get pruned.

“Oh, that’s a good point,” said Brad.

“You should stop talking,” said Mobius. “Hey, what were you doing down there on the Sacred Timeline?”

“Making movies,” said Brad.

“Don’t waste our time, X-5,” said B-15.

“It’s Brad. Bradley,” said Brad sharply.

“Right, Brad,” said Loki. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” His voice turned to the subtler drawl, the slight condescension and cunning clear (to those who knew him, like (Y/N)—who thought it was hot).

“What did you do to this Tempad?” said (Y/N), holding it up.

Brad looked at Mobius in fake-exhaustion.

“Answer the question,” said Mobius.

“It blocks your trackers,” said Brad.

“Yeah, no, try again,” said (Y/N). “What is it?”

Brad scoffed. “Under whose authority are you holding me here? Looking around, I do not see anyone ranking high to make that call.”

“I don’t need approval to detain a hunter that abandoned their post,” said B-15.

“I believe in exercising my own authority,” said (Y/N) brightly.

“Oh, that’s good. That’s good,” said Brad, still holding that condescending tone. “But wasn’t B-15 the one blabbering on and on about how we all had lives on the timeline?” He sneered at B-15. “Well, I went down and got my life. What exactly are you mad at me about?”

“Risking everyone else for your own selfishness,” said (Y/N), crossing her arms.

“There are lives at stake,” said Loki.

Brad turned to face Loki. “There are lives at stake?” Loki nodded darkly, and Brad scoffed. “Oh, you got some nerve. ‘There are lives at stake.’ Everyone here knows what you’re doing, you know?”

Mobius and (Y/N) exchanged looks. Brad was trying to get under Loki’s skin. Loki remained cam and just raised his eyebrows, prompting Brad to continue.

“You’re just trying to make up for all the terrible, awful shit you’ve done in your life, you pathetic little man,” said Brad.

“Okay, that’s enough,” said Mobius, stepping in as he saw Loki take a breath.

“No, no, Mobius,” said Loki, a lilting tone in his voice that left (Y/N) on edge. “No, it’s…It’s riveting.” Loki’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly as he goaded Brad to continue. “Keep going. I want to hear more.”

“Good,” said Brad, eager to continue. “See, everything you and Sylvie and (Y/N) have ever done to try to help has only ever made it worse.”

“Is that so?” remarked Loki. (Y/N) wanted to interject, but there was a certain quality in Loki’s voice that said to stay out.

“See, I’ve read your file,” continued Brad. “It’s you. You’re the problem. Every time we’ve ever found a you, Loki. Problem is, you think you’re special, but you’re not. So, it doesn’t matter what outfit you put on, play dress or what little lies you tell your friends or even the lies you tell yourself. At the end of the day, you just make everything worse. For Mobius, for B-15, for (Y/N)—” Loki’s eyes narrowed “—for your mother.”

Loki sucked in a breath and stared down at Brad with cold anger.

“’Cause that’s what you do,” sneered Brad, knowing he’d hit a nerve. “You lose. You’re a loser. And you drag everyone else into your loss.”

Loki’s mind flashed to 2012 and all the pain he’d caused (Y/N), and immediately after he remembered that he had nearly lost her because of the battle with Sylvie at the End of Time. It was always his fault she got hurt, and now he was reminded that even on the timeline he was supposed to live he would have gotten (Y/N) and his mother killed. It was always Loki’s fault. Always.

So how can I be selfish enough to want to say I love her if all I will do is bring her pain?

Loki’s heart clenched painfully, and he took a deep breath.

“Stop trying to be a hero, man,” said Brad. “You’re a villain. And you’re good at it. Do that.” He smirked condescendingly.

Loki chuckled dangerously and smiled coldly. “Thank you, Brad…very much. I really am touched. You know, you’re right!”

(Y/N) glanced at him curiously but let him continue and stepped back.

“I have done some terrible, awful things,” said Loki. “Yes, maybe that is who I am, and she knows.” He nodded to (Y/N). “It’s the real me.” He clapped. “A loser. Always have been. Always will be. And perhaps I’ve been…holding something back.” The dangerous tone of his voice had returned.

“Loki,” warned Mobius, but he knew Loki would only listen to (Y/N), and she seemed way too eager to let Brad get whatever was coming to him.

“Perhaps I’ve just been biding my time,” said Loki, strolling closer to Brad, who shifted nervously. “Perhaps I’ve just been waiting for a moment like this—” he stood over Brad, who finally realized he was in danger “—so I can do terrible, awful things to you.” Loki’s voice was hushed and tinged with darkness.

(Y/N) wasn’t sure if she should be worried for Brad and incredibly attracted to Loki at the moment. She settled for both, but the latter was definitely more prevalent in her mind.

“So, let’s try this one more time,” said Loki. He leaned over Brad, and the actor leaned back nervously. “Where is Sylvie?”

For a moment, Brad looked ready to answer, and then his smugness returned. “You know, you’re way too obsessed with her.” He looked at Mobius. “He needs therapy. I can recommend someo—”

Bang!

(Y/N) stepped up and kicked over his chair.

“Okay, whoa!” said Mobius, jumping up. He hadn’t anticipated (Y/N) being the one to lose her cool, but he should have remember that she had a quick temper, too, it was just usually her mouth that she ran.

“For someone who likes free will so much, you sure do obey every stupid whim of your emotions,” jeered Brad.

(Y/N) knelt over him. “Say another thing about me.”

Everyone froze and watched her. Even Mobius, who had been moving to sit Brad back up, stopped. None of them had ever heard (Y/N)’s voice so dark. There was a dangerous glint in her eyes that meant she was serious about whatever she said in this conversation.

(Y/N) smiled, but it was more predatory, more daring than anything pleasant. “Go on. Say another thing about me.”

“You think you’re tough?” said Brad, foolishly continuing. “Yeah, sure. The only thing you ever do is follow a Loki around. That’s your whole role. Trophy girl.”

(Y/N) burst out laughing, and everyone stared. “Wow, is that what you think? Damn, I really do seem pathetic when you put it like that.” She stopped abruptly, and her grin widened. “But you’re dead wrong. You see, I put Loki in his place when he’s out of control. I don’t follow everyone.”

Loki watched with a flurry of emotions as (Y/N) smirked. This was incredibly attractive, and Loki’s mind was finding it hard to focus on her conversation and was rather interested in imagining in what situations she would speak that way.

“And if I can control a god…” (Y/N) cocked her head. “What can I do to you?”

“You don’t control me,” sneered Brad.

“No?” (Y/N) reached out and tugged on his time collar. Brad jerked uncomfortably at the sensation of the tightening collar. “Keep talking, dog.”

“Ok, alright, that’s enough,” said Mobius, intervening before Brad ran his mouth again. He needed (Y/N) and Loki to be in control of themselves and not defend each other’s honor by threatening Brad.

Mobius pulled (Y/N) up and nudged them back slightly to Loki’s side.

“Control your little pets, Mobius,” sneered Brad.

Mobius coughed. “That got a little tense. Hey, you wanna hear a good one? Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?” said Brad, sighing tiredly.

“Brad,” said Mobius.

“Brad who?” he replied.

“That’s showbiz,” said Mobius, smiling brightly. “And I don’t want that to happen to you. So, play along with us, answer our questions, and we’ll get you back there, so they don’t forget about you. How’s that sound?”

“You would do that?” said Brad.

“I will,” said Mobius.

“You promise?” said Brad.

“I promise,” said Mobius.

Brad smirked and glanced at the others. “You see this? Mobius, you could be an actor.”

“I’m not an actor, I’m an analyst, but thank you,” said Mobius.

“You’re not an analyst. I’m not a hunter.” Brad gazed out at all of them. “None of this is real. I mean, who even are you on the timelines, do you know?”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Mobius.

“I think it does matter because none of this is real,” said Brad.

“Well, okay,” said Mobius, sighing.

“The TVA is not your real home,” said Brad forcefully. “Mobius isn’t even your real name.”

“Well, it’s what I answer to,” said Mobius, shrugging the comment off.

“Do you have any idea what kind of life you might have left behind?” questioned Brad. “Who might be waiting for you out there? I mean, do you care? I mean, you know they took us. You know they took our lives, and you’re still here. I mean, it’s kinda weird, man. I mean, you need to wake up.”

“I’m awake,” said Mobius, shoulders straightening in the slightest display of tension.

“Yeah, no. You’re asleep,” said Brad. “You need to wake up, Mobius.”

“I’m awake,” repeated Mobius.

“And until you do, you’re nothing,” continued Brad.

“No,” said Mobius.

“B-15 is nothing,” said Brad, pointing. He swiveled to Loki and (Y/N). “I don’t know where to start with that—” He stood and walked a pace towards Mobius. “But you’re nothing here.” Mobius’s eye twitched. “And until you wake up, you’re just a nowhere man. You’re a—”

Mobius punched him.

Brad stumbled back, still spewing his garbage, and it was only Loki and (Y/N)’s interference on his part and B-15 pulling Brad back that kept Mobius from continuing. Brad laughed wildly at Mobius’s anger while (Y/N) and Loki escorted him out.

“What was that?” asked Loki as he and (Y/N) followed Mobius through the halls.

“Nothing,” said Mobius.

“Are you okay?” said (Y/N).

“I’m fine,” said Mobius.

“What happened back there?” said Loki.

“Nothing,” reiterated Mobius.

“It didn’t seem like nothing,” said (Y/N).

“It was tactical,” said Mobius.

“Seems like he got under your skin,” said Loki.

“Like ours,” said (Y/N).

“Nope,” denied Mobius. “He didn’t get under my skin.”

(Y/N) and Loki frowned and exchanged glances.

“Mobius, are you sure you’re alright?” asked (Y/N). “We’ve never seen you like this before.”

“Seen me like what?” huffed Mobius.

“Okay, we’re not judging,” assured Loki.

“Feels like you are,” said Mobius. “Look, I told you I can play the heavy keys and I can—Where are we?” He stopped in a blue and green room.

(Y/N) shrugged. “We were following you.”

“No, I was following you,” said Mobius.

“Mobius. You were clearly ahead of us,” said Loki. He looked around and saw Mobius’s dejected face. “How about a slice of pie?”

“Key lime,” said Mobius finally.

“Okay, great,” said (Y/N). It’s the only flavor the TVA has, apparently.

The three grabbed plates of pie and forks and sat down at a table. They sat in silence and ate in peace for a few minutes, letting their thoughts digest after everything that happened in the cell.

“It’s really good,” said Mobius, finally in a better mood.

“It is,” said Loki.

Mobius was quiet again before sighing. “Listen. That wasn’t tactical. I lost it.”

“It’s okay,” said (Y/N), smiling. “We all did.”

“It happens,” agreed Loki. “You know, sometimes a rage builds up and you just got to…let it out.” He took a bite of pie. “Do you remember that time I was so angry with my father and brother that I went down to Midgard and I held the whole of New York City hostage with an alien army? Tried to use the Mind Stone on Tony Stark? It didn’t work, so I threw him out a building.”

“Tried to fry me,” said (Y/N) sarcastically.

Loki winced. “I do feel bad about that.” His heart clenched at the reminder of all he had done to hurt her. If he could take it all back, he would. Well, actually, he wouldn’t. If he hadn’t done that, Loki would have never met her.

(Y/N) patted his shoulder and grinned at his guilt. “Don’t worry. I almost fried you, so we’re even.” She shrugged. “We’ve all lost it to varying degrees. Some people just punch people, like you and me, Mobius, and some people take cities hostage.”

“Our emotions get the better of us,” said Loki.

“You can say that again,” said Mobius, smiling slightly.

“Let me ask you something,” said Loki. “Brad, you know, he obviously touched a nerve, right?” Loki and (Y/N) exchanged a look, and (Y/N) continued.

“You’ve never wanted to visit your place on the timelines?” asked (Y/N) carefully.

Mobius paused before speaking. “Look, that’s the last thing I should be thinking about.”

“Are you—Aren’t you curious?” asked Loki. “Haven’t you considered the life you were meant to live before the TVA?”

“Even just to know?” added (Y/N). “You know, who you were before you were kidnapped and taken to the TVA?”

“Not really,” said Mobius.

“Why?” asked Loki.

“Because it’s not my life,” replied Mobius.

“And you don’t have any curiosity to know what your life could’ve been?” said (Y/N).

“It isn’t what mine is. This is.” Mobius gestured around himself to the TVA. “I’d like to thank the guy who kidnapped me and brought me here.”

“I really don’t think you would, he’s kind of a prick,” said (Y/N). She cocked her head. “But if you never look, you’ll never know.”

“The TVA is the only life I’ve ever known. I like it,” said Mobius.

“Look, we understand that. We get it,” said Loki. “And you may think twice because it could be something bad.”

(Y/N) nodded. “We would understand. We both die.”

“Or something good,” said Mobius. “Something bad, I can handle. What if it’s something good?”

And you’re missing out. (Y/N)’s gaze softened.

“Do you think I wanna have that rattling around in here?” said Mobius, tapping his head.

“Of course not,” said Loki.

Silence fell again.

“You know, Brad isn’t gonna talk,” said Loki, letting the subject change.

“Brad is gonna talk. We just have to find a way in,” said Mobius.

“Alright. So what aren’t we asking this time?” said Loki, poking his pie.

“Look, Brad is a good hunter, okay?” said Mobius. “He’s very good at his job. So, does it really make sense that he could spend all that time down there and not find Sylvie?”

“Look, Sylvie spent her whole life hiding. He didn’t find her,” said Loki.

“Yes, but maybe he got a little help from the Tempad,” said Mobius.

“I still don’t think this thing has anything to do with tracking. It’s not configured that way,” said (Y/N).

“Okay, but he’s clearly hiding something. And it probably has to do with Sylvie,” said Mobius.

(Y/N) nodded. “That does make sense.”

“Think about it. He found her, but maybe didn’t turn her in because he wants to continue to live his best life on that timeline,” said Mobius.

“He wants more time to be Brad Wolfe,” said Loki in realization.

“He would want that,” said (Y/N).

“Now we just have to find a way to get him to admit it,” said Mobius.

“He’s the only one who knows where Sylvie is,” said Loki. “Just gotta make him talk.”

“I have an idea,” said (Y/N). The men looked at her, and she smirked. “I think we need to put the fear of god into Brad.”

Taglist:

@alexpangender

@technikerin23

@kikster606

@neenieweenie

@h-l-vlovesvintage

@chronicallybubbly

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justalilpearlie · 3 months

Text

Introduction/Fun Pearlie Facts

Was abt time I did one of these.

Hello everyone, my name is Pearl, Pearlie or Sam/Sammy if you're feeling like it. Friends also call me Martini sometimes.

I am a minor, my labels... we dont talk about them (fem presenting ftm gay/mlm + trying out gendervoid and verinix + bigender??) uhmm and I go by He/She, tho mostly He/Him by strangers- I can She/Her myself and close friends/mutuals are allowed! (I also go by neos: Void/Moon/Sweet/It/Fluff/Love/Fizz/Paw)

I'm from Argentina, born and raised, never moved. Speak fluent english and spanish.

I got the 'tism and the adhd, aswell as BPD and a few other things I wont list right now! But yeah I'm psychotic (ooo scary word.. lmao)

- -🌄-📀-🌙- -💚- -💛- -✨-🌄-✨- -💛- -💚- -🌙-📀-🌄- -

I'm an IRL of many, mainly c!Pearl (mcyt), Samuel Emily (fnaf [games canon]) and Shin Tsukimi (yttd). If you don't like it you can leave, block me, or whatever, cause you aint gonna change my life or how I am. I'm in therapy, which unlike random hate and harrassment online, does help me :)

I like to roleplay, draw, sometimes make playlists or moodboards.. And my biggest interests right now are Life Series (+ evo + new life), Empires1(+ a bit of e2) and FNaF! (i dont rlly like the books tho lol..)

I use kin tags for reach cause I'd love interaction from any fellow lifers or empires ppl, hermits aswell!! Tho I havent finished s8 or s9 yet...

Fictionkins, therians and traumagenic systems all welcome!

- -💥-🐺-🌙- -❤️- -💛- -✨-💥-✨- -💛- -❤️- -🌙-🐺-💥- -

DNI prefferably:

- Basic DNI criteria (proshippers, homophobes, transphobes, racists, TERFs, ableist, etc)

- Endos/non-traumagenic "systems" DNI. block me if u want, i wont argue abt it in the comments/reblogs. or interact if u want but im not gonna follow u back or anythin shrugs.

- reality checkers or anti-IRLs DNI. I aint "romanticizing" shit, I'm existing and living my life, if thats a problem to you too bad cause my psychologist aproves of what I'm doing, since I aint harming anyone and I myself am doing dandy.

- anti-kin also DNI cause most of my friends are fictionkins and if you talk shit abt my fellas idk i wouldnt like having u around much

CCs interact at your own risk. This is my domain, cyan man & moon lady. /hj

- -🪸-🐸-🌙- -💙- -🩵- -✨-🪸-✨- -🩵- -💙- -🌙-🐸-🪸- -

"Disclaimer"

- I talk about MajorMoon (Scott x Pearl) a LOT, if u didnt notice by the acc theme. These are my romantic memories, its a gay ship, not woman/gay man, so if it makes u uncomfortable or u hate it or whatever then ur probably not gonna like my content lmao. COUGH, consider joining us if you do like what you see... /nf We're a small comunity of supporters.. just me.. and a few of my peeps... that was a joke, sir. /ref

- This isn't roleplay, its my main acc where im ""unapologetically"" myself, but if u do wanna rp life series/empires u can always shoot me a dm and maybe I'll give u my discord.

- I talk about myself (c!Pearl) using 3rd person in many posts tagged with main fandom tags. This is to cause less confusion to casual fans slash ""normies"" (lhj) that well.. don't know what IRLs are! Also that way I feel safer and don't have to worry as much abt getting harassed and such for my identity.

- -🌸-⛰️-🌙- -💚- -💙- -✨-🌸-✨- -💙- -💚- -🌙-⛰️-🌸- -

Special People Mentions!! fps = * (1 or more.. wouldnt say in a priority sorta order but. more or less yea)

Family! <3 🌼@pehpurr* SISTER!! super duper cool, her art is great and you should check it out!! YOU. You're the brightest little girl (i say like ur not older than me) I'VE EVER MET ACTUALLY! You're so passionate and loving I freaking adore you!! I love you so much Scar, you're one of the best things to ever happen to me, Kanny <3 ⚙️@gentlexmadman DAD!! you are my daaaad, you're my dad! woogie woogie woogie! ANOTHER amazing artist! mr "I know that guy-", very funny, Henry "Autism" Emily... the copper king, my father. Speaking to you is always comforting. Love you so much papa, you're amazing :)

Simply special <3 ☕@insomniac-coffeehouse** You're all simply so very special to me. I love spending time with you guys and playing stuff together, you mean a lot to me and I'm so glad I met you. I hope we're still close for this year and many more! You're incredibly talented, not only at art, at everything you do. You spark joy in my brain and my heart <3 From the bottom of my heart, I'm in love with the hope you bring to this world. 🍊Jack***, oh my dear Jacky, where do I even begin, sport... you really are my other half. Mi media naranja if you will. haha.. I love every second we spend together, I love your voice, I love your eyes, I love your smile, your laughter. I love your use of words, the way you speak, your humor, your seriousness and goofiness. You stiff fuck, you were made for me and I was made for you, and I wouldn't have it any other way. You're my everything, mi vida, mi luz, mi estrella. Mi amor, mi mundo. <3

New friends! 🍓@strawberrystarfield I know we met fairly recently but you're all incredibly fun to talk to, your art is also amazing, your accent is real pretty (cough for a bri-💥), you're real sweet and I love reading all your thoughts and critiques about things :} (love ya Aspen /gen) 🏜️@fagdykegtws My right hand man! I know we just met through the rarepair server but oh my god we're in the same brainwave!!! You're so fun to vc and chat with and you got the best ideas ever fr fr, love ya Chewy, you're real sweet even w how lil i know you ;)

That's it folks, love yall and see you around!

#intro post #introduction #c!pearl irl #sammy emily irl #delusional attachment #fictionkin #fictkin #fnaf irl #life series irl #empires irl #mcyt fictkin #mcyt fictionkin #mcyt kin #system friendly #endos dni #mcyt irl

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lorata · 8 months

Text

Claudius & Eibhlin for @penfoldx

in which anthropological study subs in for discussing one's private anxieties

(h/t to attractiveness anon & @literallyjustanyurlatthispoint for partial inspiration)

it's @penfoldx's birthday! have some ridiculousness

also found at DW here

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

The notebook lay on the coffee table, half buried under various tomes (that was a new word Claudius learned and liked to throw around, tomes) on rabbit husbandry, one corner peeking out just enough to draw his curiosity.

Eibhlin called them ‘composition notebooks’ and claimed every child in Three used them, which cracked Claudius up — imagine writing enough in school you needed multiple notebooks — but sure, why not. It was the genius district after all. She’d had to make do with recycled paper for a while after the war but now she could finally import the good stuff. Which meant Claudius kept finding them everywhere, experiment logs and local recipes and logical reasons why Brutus should let her keep a Village bear (pending).

This one, worryingly, carried the simple title ‘Observations’.

It could be private, unleashing the wrath of heaven if Claudius cracked open the cover. Or it could be a topic too awkward or embarrassing for Eibhlin to raise on her own, leaving this as the most convenient and least emotionally excruciating way of broaching the issue. The real question, which one?

With Misha, this would be deliberate psychological warfare. With Eibhlin, the lines blurred.

“Eh, fuck it.” Claudius flipped open the book. He could always cave on a fifth rabbit if need be.

Later that evening Eibhlin crept up behind him in the kitchen, impressively silent as always. Claudius resisted the automatic impulse to flip the chef’s knife around into throat-slitting position (years of post-Arena healing undone by ground warfare, now finally uncurling a second time) and laid the blade flat against the cutting board.

“Hold out your hands,” Eibhlin said. Her voice twinkled in a way that those who’d never lived with rabbits might call childlike innocence.

Claudius, on the other hand, shared his living space with several rabbits, and left innocence behind a long time ago. “I am making dinner,” he said without turning around. “Should I still hold out my hands?”

A pause, in which Claudius envisioned the pout growing like fog over the lake in early morning, and yeah, he thought so. “Misha says you are a party pooper.”

“Ironic,” Claudius said dryly, but while he’d acquired several mental illnesses over the years, finding ‘wee little rabbit poops’ endearing was not one he’d picked up along the way, sponsors save him. “I’m sure there will be more cute poops tomorrow. Do I want to know why you’ve been polling people in town about what they find attractive? If we’re hosting an orgy I should go out for snacks.”

Silence of a very different character this time. Claudius spent a long time cataloguing the pauses in their conversations, learning when to send for Beetee, when to backtrack and apologize, when to wait it out. “Ah,” Eibhlin said. “That was careless.”

“I thought maybe it was on purpose,” Claudius said. He slipped the knife back into the block and turned around, risking embarrassing Eibhlin with eye contact just to let her see he wasn’t pissed off. “Like one of those things you hid as a hint or something. I can pretend I didn’t see it if you want.”

Eibhlin’s gaze shuttered. “Don’t be asinine,” she said, her tone acerbic. “You do not need to insult us both. I am conducting — research. Anthropology. Desired physical traits in this district seem to be consistent in a way that extends beyond what I had assumed to be Village sampling bias.”

He’d been pretty good at keeping his expression neutral and non-judgemental, but Claudius felt his eyebrows creep up in spite of himself. “You mean we’re a bunch of lunkheads so you thought we were poisoning your data?”

Her ears turned bright pink. “I meant —“ but oh, looks like Claudius wasn’t the only one to pick up a few tricks over the years. Eibhlin stopped, narrowed her eyes. “You are attempting to distract me by manufacturing outrage. Despite the willfully reductive phrasing, yes. This is a community of athletic outliers. You are not representative. I have made many efforts not to generalize across the population, and so this one has surprised me.”

It felt absurd to have this conversation while Eibhlin stood in front of him with a handful of rabbit dung, and so Claudius ducked down for the compost bin. Stepping out of the way for Eibhlin to wash her hands gave him a second to think about whatever the hell this was. “Is it really so weird? We move rocks around and make guns in factories and kill people. Grr, argh, strong people hot.”

This time the impatience nearly skewered him. “But that is the point, it is not that. Perhaps superficially, for short-term liaisons, but not partnerships. There is a reason why attractiveness in Three is strongly weighted toward intelligence. Physically symmetrical but intellectually bankrupt partners will not create a stable or successful household.”

Claudius blinked. “Ouch?”

“Do not —“

“Okay, okay. “ He held up his hands. Three-stupid was not universal-stupid, they’d had this argument before and reopening it now wouldn’t help anyone. “So you’re trying to figure out what is the … biological imperative … behind what Twos find attractive?”

See, he could do it too.

Now she hesitated. He probably should have moved this conversation to the living room or found her a rabbit to cuddle before starting this conversation, but more fool him, now they had to have it in the middle of the kitchen with nothing to fiddle with but sharp implements. “Leaving aside the question of whether biological or evolutionary imperatives exist other than as excuses for the creation of sexist binaries — yes. In Three we value intelligence because intelligence is how we survive. I could not understand how brawn could hold the same value in your society.”

“Okay.” Claudius leaned back against the counter, hands braced but open, nonthreatening. “And?”

“It isn’t brawn,” Eibhlin said. “It’s — community. Care. You are a district of physical labourers and physical people, so of course you value those who can take care of each other with your bodies.”

“Sounds kind of like cavemen,” Claudius said, amused in spite of himself. “I’m sure Brutus would agree, though.”

“He did,” Eibhlin said, nose in the air with the delicate air of someone choosing not to take offence, as the bigger person in the room thank you very much. “And Artemisia, once she stopped laughing. She went home with many girls, but she wanted to marry Emory when she was young, and now she is with Devon. That speaks to type.”

“Okay,” he said, again. “I still don’t know what — you don’t just do anthropology. You have to have a thesis.”

Eibhlin’s fingers curled in her sleeves, which — Ah, shit.

This was the part Claudius hated. Speedrunning weeks of research and observations to find whatever tangled mess of emotions had prompted Eibhlin to do this in the first place, because while Claudius might mangle onions or spar with his mentor or call up his friends in a total panic when he had a problem, Eibhlin … well, she did science.

“Okay.” A third time, the jigsaw puzzles falling off the table and clicking together into the most terrifying image of a nightmare clown he’d ever seen, but also the clown was right in front of him looking sad and he had to be very careful not to jump. “So it sounds like … we have the best of both worlds? You’re a super genius and I — well, I can sort of fix the roof, if I have help.”

Eibhlin studied him in silence for several moments, eyes intent and searching, but finally she nodded sharply and the knot in his chest unhooked. “Don’t forget the cooking,” she said. “You have become quite adept.”

“Glad to hear it,” Claudius said. “You want to help? I was still chopping when someone tried to put rabbit poop in my hands.”

“Hm,” Eibhlin said, admitting absolutely nothing, and held out her hand for the knife.

#we must be killers: tales from district 2 #my writing #oc: claudius

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