dude ur writing is incredible!! thanks for updating burn me into smoke :)
Ahhh! â€ïž â€ïž Thank you for reading

No title available
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
sheepfilms
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
taylor price

titsay

shark vs the universe
cherry valley forever
art blog(derogatory)
trying on a metaphor
wallacepolsom

No title available

Discoholic đȘ©
I'd rather be in outer space đž
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Jules of Nature

oozey mess

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
RMH

Kaledo Art
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Austria

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia

seen from Canada

seen from Malaysia

seen from Spain

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from T1
@succinct-assbutt
dude ur writing is incredible!! thanks for updating burn me into smoke :)
Ahhh! â€ïž â€ïž Thank you for reading
MILES MORALES OWNS MY HEART
Iâm so in love with this dork, itâs not healthy, he makes me melt
Burn Me Into Smoke (Part 8)
previous parts: ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE , SIX, Â SEVEN
pairing: loki x reader
previous parts: ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE , SIX, SEVEN
pairing: loki x reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating (?), jealousy
Summary; the tension continues to build as Loki throws himself deeper into one night stands,forcing Y/N to acknowledge her own feelings
A/N: incase you havenât noticed my upload schedule is garbage and im sorry
                                                          ~8~
Different girls come and goâusually by morning, somewhere after the sun has risen while sheâs pouring herself a cup of coffee and catches the tail of auburn hair rushing out the door. Sometimes in the middle of the night while sheâs training, sheâll hear the creak of a door and the click of heels, and soon enough she grows accustomed to the secrecy Loki hides behind.
 She can deal with most of it, she tells herself. Most nights itâs the whisper of goodbye she catches in the hallways or the stray stiletto she finds tucked under the kitchen table, and she can look past that, she tells herself she has to look past that or else sheâll run mad, but she can only keep up for so long, and Friday is proof of that.
 Three am and the sky is dressed in a dense fog, most of New York city cut out from sight as Y/N peers out her bedroom window. Her muscles are tired, little flecks of sweat still dotting the trail of her spine, visible proof of her over-exertion. She wonât admit it anyone, but the truth is itâs never been about the training: sheâs always running, sheâs found. From her problems and her past. From herself. And working out is the healthiest of coping mechanisms at this point, a way to clear her head from the thoughts chasing her.
 The moon is her only company tonight.
 And she watches it, head resting on her arm, listening to Manhattanâs heartbeat. Sheâs been thinking of moving. Oregon, Mexico maybe. With everything thatâs been going on running away seems like the best option; she could start a new life. She could leave behind this one thatâs somehow become a burden, she thinks, dragging a finger down the cool pane of glass.
 So caught up in her thoughts, it isnât until she hears the echo of a moan, a stretch of pleasure that finds her sitting at the edge of her bedroom, that sheâs drawn back to reality.
 Y/Nâs hand stops moving for a second.
 Then she freezes entirely, eyes growing wide. She ...it couldnât have beenâŠ? Her face seems to flush as she waits, unmoving. Then the sound rings out again.
 Louder this time and more masculine than the last, and Y/N feels the blood drain from her face.
 The noise continues from then on: growing more haste and sloppy, a few cusses thrown into the mix to spice things up until sheâs under the covers in her own bed, both pillows glued to either side of her head because this cannot be happeningâŠ
 ~*~
The next day, she can barely bring herself to so much as look at him.
 Not over breakfast, or the mission, or even the celebratory drinks back at the tower at the end of the day; especially not when he walks through the door with a leggy blonde strapped to his side, the same one, Y/N instantly recognizes, from the previous night.
 Her blood just about runs cold.
 In the kitchen with Bucky and Sam, she feels the shame rising in her throat and suffocating. She watches as Loki and his friend saunter across the room to where the rest of the company sits, Steveâs reports laid out before them as they try and formulate a plan for the next trip.
 âWhat are you doing?â Bucky asks, and her eyes flit to him skittishly.
 She quirks a brow, trying to play off her restlessness. âHuh?â
 âAre you drunk already?â He presses
 âN-no.â Itâs hard focusing on what heâs saying with the thoughts racing through her mind, but Y/N manages to break out from her reverie long enough to answer, âNo, Iâm fine. Iâm fine, really, justâthatâs the girl from yesterday, right? The one we saw him with at the cafĂ©?â Squinting, she looks to Sam.
 His eyes move to their target slung around Lokiâs arm and laughing, then back. âIâŠthink so?â He draws out uncertainly, âI donât know, it wasnât like I was paying attention.â
 âThey were having a sale on red velvet, of course you werenât.â Bucky adds.
 âI think itâs her. Yeahâyeah, itâs definitely her. She has the tattooâ As discreetly as possible, Y/N points to a mandala the size of a grapefruit peeping out of the sleeve of the girlâs dress. Bucky and Sam both squint and she turns to them, nodding vigorously. âSheâs the one.â
 Bucky pulls back, his face screwed up in confusion. âOkayâŠâHe draws out in a way that tells her heâs not sure why he should careâhe shouldnât, truthfully.  Neither should she, but itâs hard enough being in his presence without the bonus of one of his flings hovering in the room.
 Y/N doesnât say any of this, thoughâmore out of sheer embarrassment than anything. Her eyes move once more to the pair at the other end of the room. Loki says something to Thor that has his date throwing her head back. Silky brown tresses and an easy smile. Thereâs no question why he picked her, and with a sigh Y/N then takes to the balcony for some fresh air because itâs dangerous, her thoughts catching up with her like this.
 The wind greets her with a sharp smack as soon as she steps outside, sliding the door shut behind her. Muffled music follows her out, but the sound of speeding cars and New York at its finest drowns most of it out as she moves to the edge of the balcony. She spares a glance down at the shrunken streets.  Everything below is so tiny from up here. Everyoneâs an ant in a hill, running through their routine for the day, scudding along the busy streets. Sometimes she canât help but miss the simplicity.
Sheâs always figured that maybe itâs part of the job, the bitterness, but halfway down the road she realizes itâs always just been herâher and her stubbornness, her ego. No amount of exercise or alcohol can stop the onslaught of thoughts now, but Y/N figures at this point the only thing left to do is let them drown her.
 âDonât tell me youâre thinking of jumping?â A voice suddenly says.
 Y/N throws a glance over her shoulder, more worried than startledâthe last thing she expected was someone finding her out here; the last thing she wanted was for it to be him.
 And yet here he is, drink in hand and eyebrows pulled together.
 His gaze shifts from Y/N to the railing sheâs only just realized sheâs gripping onto tightly, before flicking back up to her face. âYouâre the last person Iâd expect to opt for an early way out.â
 âIâm not jumping.â
 âAdmiring the view then?â
 Y/N isnât sure what to say; her words feel jagged and sharp enough to cut the walls of her mouth, so she settles for silence as her hand slowly floats off the cool bar. She turns to face him fully, and for some reason Loki takes that as his invitation to join her, holding out the scotch in his hand.
 âHere.â He offers.
 She eyes skeptically, but takes it either way. âI thought you donât drinkâŠâ
 âI thought you know me well enough to not trust my word.â
 âRight.â
 âEverything okay?â Loki watches her drain the liquid right out the glass, observing the bob in her throat, the way the scotch runs down the column he canât help but stare at. When sheâs done, Y/N lets out a tired breath and meets his gaze.
 She bites the inside of her cheek then shrugs, âEverythingâs fine.â
 âYou know youâd be a half-decent liar if you didnât have such an obvious tellâŠ?â He offers with an arched brow, and itâs Y/Nâs turn to play dumb.
 âI donât know what youâre talking about.â She insists.
 âThat.â Loki does a half-assed shrug and twists his mouth in an almost humorous way, âYou canât trick a trickster.â
 âDonât you have a girlfriend to get back to?â Her focus drifts over his shoulder and finds his date through the glass, watching her by the drinks with Natasha. Still just as gorgeous as when she left. He follows her gaze with a brief glance before turning back to Y/N, and she offers him a twisted smile. âMegan, right? Sheâs really pretty.â
 Itâs pettyâsheâs petty, she knows, but Loki doesnât seem one bit bothered as he shrugs.
 âShe is,â He affirms. âAlthough sheâs not my girlfriend. Just a girl.â
 âOne of the many you keep bringing overâŠâ Y/N says as she turns back to her view from before. Setting down the glass, she lets her hands find the railing once again and tries to disappear into herself, but itâs hard with him lingering still.
 Eventually, he joins her right at the edge, leaning onto his elbows. She spares a glance at him just for a second; wind tousling his hair, side-profile cast against the kaleidoscope of city lights.
 âNot like any of them count.â Loki says. Then he looks at her, and for a fraction of a second she forgets sheâs supposed to be mad at him.
 Gazes locked, Y/N feels it, the hammering in her chestâthe slow build that tells her to tear gaze away before itâs too late. Neither of them say anything for a while, enjoying the white noise swallowing them, the sky that slowly starts to dim. Somehow minutes fly by until finally
 âNone of them mean anything, you know?â  It sounds crude and a bit harsh, butâŠI always tell them. Before anything happens. The last thing I want is to break some poor Midgardianâs heart.â His words die out towards the end of the statement and if you squint hard enough you can see the sadness in his voice, the way his eyes flicker to his hands for just a moment.
 Itâs no secret he has regrets; theyâve all got enough baggage to open up their own shop, but the Asgardianâs, Y/N knows, is something else, something he hides from everyone but himself.
 Staring at him, she bites the inside of her cheek. She wants to ask why not her; why doesnât he care enough to tread lightly around her heart instead of always bickering, but the moment passes as fast is came.
 Loki straightens out, taking in a deep breath. Glancing at Y/N, he lifts an eyebrow, âI think youâre the only person whom Iâd never worry about hurting.â
 âBecause of our deep rivalry?â She asks playfully.
 âBecause itâs hard to hurt someone as strong as youâwhich I hate to admit, all things considered.â
 The shock shows in the way she pauses for a moment, weighing her words. Registering his. Y/N blinks and for a second thinks heâs going to disappear, that this is all just a drunken hallucinationâsomehow she wishes it was, because then she wouldnât really have to deal with how intently Loki looks at her (or how strongly her stomach knots at the sight).
 âAm I supposed to say thank you?â The words stumble from her mouth.
 He shrugs. âNot if you donât want to.â His eyes move back to the bright skyline. âI just felt I had to say it. Maybe itâs the alcohol, butâŠI donât knowâŠyou get tired of keeping things bottled up sometimesâŠSometimes you just want to say whatâs on your mind.â  The wind ripples through his clothes as he looks at Y/N, a current so strong it looks like it might carry him away, carry her too because suddenly she feels light on her feet and easy and Y/N isnât sure why, but the next thing she knows her hand is resting on his.
 Loki glances down at her fingers curled around his then back up, brow furrowing.
 She reminds herself to breathe. She has to breathe, or else sheâll dieâheâll kill her. The breeze kisses her cheeks and for a moment theyâre hyperaware of the contrast in their skin, how gentle her touch feels against his, how easy it is for their fingers to slot together.
 Y/N licks her lips and hesitates, before sliding her hand away.
 Itâs a flash of a second; neither of them say anything, because in moments like these there isnât much to say. Jarring music finding them even this far out. A newfound edge to the air that she canât help but feel guilty for birthing, because she always gets like this when sheâs drunk, transparent enough to hint at what sheâs feeling but not enough to give the whole act away.
 Loki takes in some air then looks away.
 The regret comes in waves, washing over Y/N as she straightens out and tries not to cringe. Too many mistakes made tonight; coming out here, for one, and even talking to him for more than five seconds. The only person she can blame is herself and she twiddles with her fingers idly, clearing her throat.
 âWe should go back inside.â She says.
 âYou can go.â The air slowly shifts back into gear as he continues, âIâm not in the mood for a celebration right nowâand do me a favor, will you?â Loki looks at her sharply, and Y/N struggles to keep his gaze Send Megan out here, I need to talk to her.â
 âSure.â She nods.
 He doesnât say much else, turning his attention back to the skyline; something draws her focus down to his hand and she watches a glass of gin manifest itself between his fingers, lifted to his lips as he takes a sip. Back to brooding, and suddenly it feels like her fault. Part of her wants to apologize for damaging the peace of night; the other part knows for sure though that if she stays, somehow sheâll find a way of making things worse, so carefully she disappears back inside the house before her heart gets the best of her.
 As soon as she steps inside, the distinct change in environment slaps her in the face; here thereâs music and people laughing. Clintâs playing some sort of drinking game with Romanoff and the others cheering them on, a sense of celebration that almost feels eerie.
 Y/N canât help it right then: she glances over her shoulder at Loki, a monochromatic blur against the glinting city lights, then looks around for Megan. The contrast inside is evident, but she wonât let it shake her. Drops her glass of in the sink then moves around the floor, peeping her head into empty rooms until she gets to the training room, ignoring the warm lilt of the night that makes her feel even worseâif sheâd just kept her mouth shut, then he wouldnât be out there sulking. Heâd be enjoying this. Enjoying his not-girlfriend for as long as the night would allow, and for once Y/N would turn a blind eye.
 She stops right then, right at the elevator with her hand risen, when she hears a sound.
 Itâs a whisper almostâan iciness sneaking up her spine and drawing her hairs on end, and for once in her life, Y/N wishes she could just let it go, but her eyes shoot to the source of the sound right away.
 And without a doubt itâs her: Megan, tattooed shoulder, winding black hair, and snaking her hand along Steveâs leg.
 Y/Nâs heart just about stops.
 She moves fast before they can see her; hidden behind the corner of the wall, she peers out from hiding, fists bawled with an anger suddenly coursing through her trembling hands. Meganâs smile is Cheshire and sweet and thereâs no surprise she can win all the boys with a face like thatâY/N wants to be mad at her, but more than that her anger is focused on the Captain backed up against the counter. Brow drawn together, hands hovering just above her waist. And then she feels the relief wash over her when he pushes Megan away, face set in a scowl.
 They speak in murmurs mostly; Meganâs voice is heavy and lust-soaked and it only brings out the dryness in Steveâs as Y/N listens in. Then she peeks out from behind the wall and theyâre still there. Captainâs more confused than angry, she can tell, until a lighthearted laugh fills the air and Y/N watches her from the shadow, grape-fruit-sized mandala and curtains of black hair that sway as she walks off.
 When Megan is gone, she immediately looks back. Steve doesnât notice her until she steps out with a loud scoff. âWhat the actual fuck?â
 âY/N?â
 Her arms cross over her chest as she moves into the blinding light and the challenge is evident in the way she lifts her chin at him, âExplain yourself?â
 âYou saw that?â
 âExplain yourself, Rogers.â She grits; truthfully she doesnât know why sheâs angryâitâs none of her business. Or at least thatâs what she always told herself.
 Either way she listens as Steve explains everything, before both of them make their way back to the party.
 âLoki sure knows how to pick âem.â He says as they move.
 Y/N doesnât say anything for a while; her eyes scan the parameter until she finds her target standing by his side, attentive and playing the role of the not-girlfriend so well you wouldnât know her hand was practically down someone elseâs trousers a few minutes ago.
 Not that itâs any of her business, anyway.
 âMaybe he has a typeâpretty and problematic.â She says as the two of them move to the couch littered with pretzel crumbs and beer caps.
 âWouldnât you fit the criteria then?â
 âAre you really trying this right now?â
 Steve laughs, even if she doesnât think itâs funny, and they try to iron the weirdness out of the night with food and conversation. Eventually, things are back to normal. As normal as they can be, anyway. Clint joins them and they discuss the mission. Y/N tells them about Mexico with hopes that they wonât try to change her mind, but even with the banter and drinks she finds herself glancing over at Loki and his friend from time to time.
 Her chest stutters for a moment, and she draws in a breath.
 (Maybe you can trick a trickster afterallâŠ)
                                                            ~8~
TAGS: @thegrandmasterschampion ,  @petalparker , @adaliamalfoy , @strangedarkling  , @bit-bot0711 , @malignentmac , @accentsintooblivion , @snailchick , @fandomwritingismylife , @thelovelysoulstealer , @tchilltchalla , @devilbat , @amor67figment-love , @lusty-loki , @missbosstown, @supreme-leader-armitage-hux, @bit-bot0711, @ourdreamsrealized, @jollyfish99, @flowerchild-572, , @smallgloryholes, @honestlyidek-someonehelp , @anonymouscastiel12 , @talinalani , @savkova , @regina-cordibus-vestris , @navybluenicole , @cait3dtl , @aintthatright , @lokisknives36 , @laxarnasâ
hey i really loved ur loki story!! are u planning to update it anytime soon? no rush, i was just wondering :)
Yes! Iâm so sorry Iâm uploading it so late but the latest installment will be up today (i know i keep saying this but i mean it this time). Thank you for reading! <3
Hush
Pairing: Jake Peralta x Reader.
Warnings: mild sexual content.
Word count: 650
Summary: Jake and the reader sneak off to handle some âurgentâ mattersâŠ
A/N:
My server has crashed like eight times, each with an edited version of this iâm so sick of this shit :))
Very short, I know, but Iâm only testing the waters with this fandom and writing for this character. I really enjoy the show and so far Iâm deeply obsessed with Peralta, so this was my go to cathartic experience for all the feels.
Enjoy!
â°â°â°â°â°â
Y/N can barely contain herself.
In the silent confines of the closet, her breathing is labored, a jagged mess of pants and heaves. Her chest stutters up and down, falling as fast as it rises, and she struggles for breath. Thereâs none left in the tiny box. Thereâs nothing but the sound of clothes rustling and sweaty skin sticking together like glue as she goes in for another kiss. His hand slides down her side then to her waist, to the y/s/t skin peeping out from a lilac dress shirt, to her back and down to her ass, because, yeah, this is definitely more fun than filing paper work.
Definitely.
It comes as a whisper. A soft, sweet whimper dredged up from the deep, but it quakes the walls of the building with the weight it holds.
âJakeâŠâ
He groans, teeth clashing, tongue scavenging for hers, heart beating like a bomb ticking. God, itâs ticking. It has been since they stumbled into this closet, as though waiting to detonate and itâs so intense and a little bit disorienting, but heaven be dammed if heâs going to subdue it.
Jakeâs hand slithers beneath her shirt and Y/N shivers at the contact. âY/NâŠâ He manages despite his nebulous mind.
âJakeâŠâ she pants, lips screwed to his and muffling her speech. He flicks his tongue along her bottom lip and she letâs him, his hand clasping her cheek tight like a ripe apple.
âUh-huh? â
âWe shouldnât be doing thisâŠnot here. â Y/N leans back against the wall and he attacks her neck with his tongue, trailing wet kisses down from her jaw to behind her earlobe. She clamps her eyes shut, stifling a moan. She canât. She shouldnât. This is beyond unethical, breaching into pure sin she ought to be repentant forâbut, dammit, it feels too good to stop.
Tipping her head back, she stutters a shaky breath as Jake goes to town, working his tongue down to the collar of her shirt and then back to the curve of her jaw. Heâs attentive and precise. Within a second his lips are back on hers and Y/N feels the knot in her stomach coil tighter. Peralta .
Only Peralta.
Having been with him for six weeks now, she knows just as well as the sky is blue that only he can spark the fire burning in her belly. Only Jake can make the pulse of her blood run like a river, stir up a tsunami behind her ribs that makes her wonder if sheâs sane. She canât possibly beâthe decision to be with him is enough of a an alibi, because who is crazy enough to date their colleague, let alone get steamy with them in the paper room?
âYou okay?â His voice cuts through Y/Nâs reverie, causing her to flutter her eyes open, meeting the deep brown ones a few inches away almost immediately. Her lips are wet and plump and thereâs a heat pulsing in the pit of her stomach she canât satiate.
Hooded eyes regarding him, she nods frantically. âWe should get back. Terryâs probably looking for us.â
âAndâŠ?â
âAnd I donât want my uncle blowing his top because he caught me making out with my colleague.â
âWell, they donât call us partners for nothing.â Jake grins. Y/N punches him in the shoulder and his expression immediately consorts, a pout surfacing. âOuch. Uncalled for.â
âCan we go now?â
âNope. Iâm not done with you yet.â He states. âNor will I be until our desires are both satisfied. NowâŠ.â A mischievous smirk stretches across Jakeâs face and, grabbing her hips, he hoists Y/N up against the wall.
Her resistance falters; a smile manages onto her face, and she shakes her head softly. The room is getting smaller and smaller and the temperature is rising, but itâs okay. Jake leans in, his face inches away, warm breath fanning her heated skin.
ââŠwhere were we?â
                                             ~*~*~*~*~*
This is the closest thing to smut Iâve ever posted my face us still burning hot
As always, thank you for reading, likes/reblogs and follows are much appreciated. more B99 to come seeing as it is my current consuming obsession. I love Jake Peralta, he is perfect, I want him to be my second husband
Have a nice day!
This is probably the shortest thing Iâve ever written and it has reached 1k likes??? Stop clowning people this is so flattering
YâALL
mcr announcing the reunion on halloween in the year of danger days after their last released song was called âfake your deathâ in a greatest hits album called âmay death never stop youââŠâŠâŠ the dramaâŠâŠ. the theatricsâŠâŠâŠâŠ..
Hey, I was looking at the publication date for Play Pretend and noticed it was a really long time ago. Are you still planning on writing a second part, and if so, when do you think youâd have it ready by?
Hi there, I havenât been really active in the B99 fandom for a while nor have I been up to date with the show either because of school, but I have half of the second part written out; if people are interested I could probably get it done by next week :)
burn me into smoke || Part 7
previous parts: ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE , SIX
pairing: loki x reader
warnings: possible language, jealousy?
summary: itâs the push and pull of the tide, the way they go at each other; despite spending his nights in other girlsâ beds, Loki canât seem to get over how really feels...
                                                           ~*~*~
He goes home with his head hung in shame that night.
 Finds half the team in the lounge as soon as he steps out of the elevator, lifting a lazy hand in greeting before rushing to the stairs. The hurry isnât out of fear of questioning (at this point nobody asks because everybody knows).
 He turns the shower on and steps right under the frigid stream. Shuts his eyes. He doesnât feel the iciness in the water, going about with the routineâhe washes the dirt out of his hair and watches the suds dissolve between his toes.
 There comes a knock at the door, and Loki has to turn the pressure down to hear them.
 âLoki? Are you there?â Itâs Thor, the steady baritone of his voice managing to find him even this far.
 He rolls his eyes and grabs one of the towels hanging nearby (he hasnât used this room for so long heâs not sure how clean they are) and answers the door wide enough for just his face to stick out.
 âWhat do you want?â
 âWhere were you last night?â His brother asks immediately.
 âWhere am I most nights Iâm not here? It isnât rocket science.â
 âWith the brunette from the bar? Whatâs her nameâCasey? Christie.â
 âI forget, that was a while ago.â And before that Margot, and before that, as ashamed as he is to admit he remembers, Lyanna.
 Thor is seemingly the only one out of the whole team who knows just how deep this rabbit hole goes, and Loki, holding tightly onto his pride, hopes it stays that way.
 âWhy are you here, brother?â He asks Thor, moving about the roomâhe grabs a pair of black pants and fits his slender legs through them, tossing the drenched towel to the side.
 Thor remains at the door, arms crossed like he doesnât want to so much as step foot into the roomânot that he can blame him. Thereâs no telling what Loki will do, he learnt that the hard way.
 âTo remind you that Iâm not going to keep covering up for you. They keep calling, you know? This morning that redhead tried reaching me like six times.â He informs bitterly. âSome go as far as showing at the building, and I wonât have it, Loki. End this now.â
 âA little fun never killed anyone.â Loki tries to remember a redhead heâs talking about, but nothing comes to mind. âLet them call and show up. Iâm not here most of the time, anyway.â
 âI am, and it gets old cleaning up after you.â
 He plops down onto the foot of his bed and runs a hand through his wet hair. He casts a quick glance at Thorâan enviable figure, with his burly arms and golden hair and nobility. Heâs the reason Lokiâs case was dropped and his freedom deemed a fate rather than a far-fetched dream. Itâs admirable, the lengths Thor will go to make it seem itâs all out of good-heart rather than saving face.
 Loki tells him this, more out of wanting to be left alone than spite, and it works.  His only company is his own for the rest of the day.
 He cleans his room and shelves his books, until the sky begins to dim and the noise from downstairs gets louder. Most of the team is back now, he can tell. Wandaâs voice floats up into earshot and with it the laugh of whom he assumes to be Banner. Loki tries to ignore them as he slides an encyclopedia onto his shelf, and dusts off his hands.
 Someone knocks on his door, and this time he doesnât answer.
 âLoki?â They insist. He doesnât move, wordless, but theyâre incessant. âLoki, open up. Itâs important.â
 âIâm busy.â
 âThereâs someone here to see you.â Itâs Natasha, he deciphers.
 Almost an entire minute flies by and sheâs about to leave, Loki finds, when he yanks the door open.
 âThis better be good.â He says as he buttons up his shirt then follows her down.
                                                       ~*~*~~
When he sees Becca waiting for him in the kitchen, Lokiâs sure his heart stops beating for a second.
 Sheâs smiling at him, like always, and sheâs got a tray of cupcakes in her hand she must have nicked from work.
 âThere he is!â
 Within a second sheâs in his arms, lifting herself onto the toes of her shoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. Lokiâs winded. He just stares down at her, unmoving. Thereâs a sudden deadliness hanging in the air.
 âWhat are you doing here?â He manages to ask, and her eyes look even brighter when she pulls away.
 âYou donât sound happy to see meâŠ? I figured since weâre always at my place we could change things up a bit. Hang out at yours, yâknow? I brought cupcakes for your friends.â
 âThese are delicious, Becky.â
 âBecca.â Hands curled into fists, itâs an effort just getting a breath out for him as his eyes find Stark and the rest congregating at the table. Heâs got colored frosting on his cheek and for some reason that only adds to Lokiâs annoyance.
 It must show. He feels Becca take his hand in hers and looks down at her.
 âWasâŠâ Her eyes grow uncertain, and her words carry a care heâs not used to, ââŠthis a bad idea? Should I have not showed up?â
 âWhy would you even do such a thing? I told you Iâd call.â
 âYou did. I just wanted to surprise you.â
 âOr sabotage me, maybe?â Loki rips his hand away from her and takes a step back.
 The hurt in her eyes doesnât go unnoticed; they want him to play the part of the villain, donât they? Pitch forks and eyes ablaze, chasing the next victory and appraisal for defeating people like him? There isnât any room for guilt. This, he can feel as the anxiety bubbles under his skin, is what heroes demand from him: this is his reckoning.
 A room full of lies catching up with him and the Asgardian can feel the tightness in his chest, eyes flitting left and right. Somewhere amidst the chaos, he finds, is Y/N.
 Crossing the room in her usual gym get-up, drenched in sweat and with one of her headphones dangling from her ear, their gazes meet. Bewildered. He can hear the feint drums and guitar riffs playing in her ipod from where he stands.
 The earth seems to stutter on its axis. Just for a second. Then Bucky holds out a cupcake frosted in the shape of a cat-face, and her eyes shift from Lokiâs.
 âTry one.â He watches Barnes hand it to her.
 Y/N turns it over, squints at the misshapen whiskers. Her eyes flicker back for a moment before they move to Becca, and itâs a calculating glance, the longest theyâve acknowledged each other in the past two weeks.
 Y/N looks back up at the cupcake, then at Loki. Then, bitterly, she laughs and sets it down.
 ~*~
He tells Becca to leave as soon as everybody goes upstairs, and itâs the first time Loki has seen her cry.
 âYou need to go.â He insists. âJust go.â
 âAnd then? Are you seriously kicking me out over something like this? I donât ask for much, Loki.â
 âNeither do I, just that you respect my privacy.â
 âAnd that we do it with the lights off, or that I donât say your name in bed, or that I donât ask anything past your nameâwhy are you soâŠsoâŠunavailable! Even when youâre there, youâreââHe stops listening at that point.
 Sheâs babbling and red-faced and for the first time since this started, a guilt has been born inside him, watching a face of rapture melt into an anguish. Becca rubs at her red-rimmed eyes and he feels a pang shoot through him. He misses her smile. The comfort it gave. This? This is the chilling reality that the pep managed to hide, and the illusion is the only reason he signed up in the first place.
 He calls her a cab that doesnât come fast enough then, placing a kiss at the crown of her head as she ducks down into the carj, heads back up to the towerâŠ
 ~*~
 One of the few perks of waking up in his own bed: Loki can actually have coffee for breakfast.
 Warm and creamy and laced with the slightest hint of cardamom, itâs a beguiling start to his day, even after the night heâs had.
 He finds the pot already made when he enters the kitchen the next morning, bare-chested and groggy-eyed. There are scones and buttered almonds. Some cupcakes from last night sit on a plate on the counter and he resists the urge to bin them as he passes by.
 Pouring himself a cup, Loki almost doesnât hear Y/N step into the room, startled only by the sudden sound of her voice cutting through his tranquil silence.
 âThatâs mine.â She says, and he glances over his shoulder.
 A mixture of surpriseânot that sheâs here but that sheâs speaking to himârears its head as he gawks at her, frozen. A baggy green t-shirt hangs loosely off one shoulder, hiding most of her patterned boy shorts that peep out from the hem.
 âSorry?â
 âThe coffee.â She says blandly. âI brewed that for myself. I have session later today with Rogers so Iâll need all the fuel I can get.â
 âI just want a cup.â
 âSo make yourself one. Thereâs more beans in the cabinet.â She plucks the pot from his hand and Loki notes the sourness in her eyes, almost more potent today than rest of the days.
 Emptying it into her thermos, Y/N hands him the jug, then screws the cap on.
 His eyes narrow, but with her back turned to him it goes unnoticed. At this point theyâre past arguing, breached into a higher realm of passive aggressive silences and momentsâlike this oneâof trivial triumphs over one another.
 âI just wanted a cup,â Loki watches Y/N grab one of the cupcakes and bite into it. âânot a whole pot. Are you really that petty?â
 âLook, Iâm not petty, I made that batch for myself so Iâm taking it. Besidesââ She turns around, lip frosted pink with cream. ââdoesnât cupcake girl work at a Starbucks or something? Sure she can make arrangements.â
 âSo thatâs what this is about.â
 âYou said she stood you up yet I remember, very clearly, her serving me a latte and buttered croissant that very day.â
 Loki grits his teeth and for a moment he forgets he isnât talking to her.
 A stifled pride rouses in him instead as he watches Y/N, the line of color on her lip almost tauntingâitâs a juxtaposition of his two worlds, a kaleidoscope sunset cast against these raging tides and itâs a little further than heâd hoped this situation would climb
 But heâs here now, regardless. Bile threatens to rise in his throat at the sight, his fists bawling.
 âThat wasnât her I was referring to.â
 Y/Nâs eyebrows rise. âOh? So itâs been more than one mystery woman?â
 âWhat interests me is why youâre so worked up by itâŠ?â
 Heâs trying to keep his cool; thereâs still a fleck of pink by the corner of her lips and she grows more ardent with each syllable of her words.
 âI donât like liars, Loki. You play that guilt-trip card to make it look like youâre more than that, but all you do is prove me right.â
 âIâm not here to argue with you. If youâre jealous, say so, but donât mask your envy as care for the truthâgreen isnât your color.â The words pour out of him as he inches closer until theyâre breaths apart, and for the first time since heâs spoken Y/Nâs tongue fails her.
 Her jaw drops and the tail of her sentence hangs on her agape lips.
 Staring into her y/e/c gaze, Lokiâs not quite sure what heâs waiting for. Heâs thrown the punch.
 And in that moment he knows the force it strikes her with, by the way her brow briefly wrinkles like sheâs digesting his taunts, by how her scowl falters, before masking the hurt with an angry frown.
 She moves back from him, defiant and a gust of smoke billowing onto himâa flame extinguished.
 His eyes follow her and he doesnât want it to admit the icy fear crawling up his spineâY/N watches him with an anger, a determination more than anything that he knows heâs going to regret having sparked with his words, but soon his anxiety dissolves into confusion.
 She doesnât pounce on him; instead she fists her hands tighter at her sides, retracts into herself and sheâs not going to fight. Not today.
 âThereâs nothing to be jealous of.â She manages to spit out.
 And then sheâs gone before he can get a word out.
 He listens to the heaviness of her footsteps growing softer until heâs sure sheâs left the apartment, and he finally lets out the air caged in his lungs.
                                                      ~*~*~
Thank you for reading!
If you enjoyed this and would like to follow the rest of this story (only 2 parts left!), like, reblog and/or follow to know when I post the next installment. Iâve been a bit inconsistent but seeing as the next parts are already written out (minus the epilogue) I should be posting them both this week.
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 TAGS: @thegrandmasterschampion ,  @petalparker , @adaliamalfoy , @strangedarkling  , @bit-bot0711 , @malignentmac , @accentsintooblivion , @snailchick , @fandomwritingismylife , @thelovelysoulstealer , @tchilltchalla , @devilbat , @amor67figment-love , @lusty-loki , @missbosstown, @supreme-leader-armitage-hux, @bit-bot0711, @ourdreamsrealized, @jollyfish99, @flowerchild-572, , @smallgloryholes, @honestlyidek-someonehelp , @anonymouscastiel12 , @talinalani , @savkova , @regina-cordibus-vestris , @navybluenicole , @cait3dtl , @aintthatright , @lokisknives36 ,
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Please read!
(Lol someone told me this sounded like another one of those Nigerian money schemes so I would just like to put a disclaimer that it isnât)
So hi yâall! For those of you who are unaware, my family was recently hit with a bit of a financial crisis when my dad broke his leg and wasnât able to go to work. Heâs better now, but since then, he hasnât been able to keep a stable job and you can imagine the toll that takes on a family of 7. Itâs especially hard living here in Uganda because our government doesnât offer things like disability cheques or any form of aid and so itâs all up to you to make any form of income to keep yourself afloat. Because of this, my family and I have found ourselves struggling to make ends meet; weâre getting by, but itâs a struggle and so Iâve decided to do my best to try and help out.
Luckily weâre living in our own house and so rent isnât an issue, but other utilities such as the water bill, power and even food at times have us at our wits end. Being a student, itâs hard for me to balance school and a job, especially with the end of the school year approaching, so Iâve decided Iâll try and earn some money through my writing.
I will write original stories, fanfiction, or reader inserts for 5$ per 500 words.
The fandoms Iâm familiar with are supernatural, b99, marvel, Game of Thrones, but feel free to message me and ask about a particular fandom that I may have forgotten to mention (there are a ton more, I just canât think of them off the top of my head). Original story prompts are also welcome.
It would mean the world to my family and i and would really help us out in a trying time like this.
If you have any questions or would like more details on this whole ordeal, my inbox is open.
âThose poor boysâ
âShe deserves to be punished too.â
âIâm not saying I support rape, but-â
âSorry to say - she deserved it.â
âShe put herself in harmâs wayâ
âBut if she was fingered, then thatâs not rape.â
âShe ruined their lives.â
âWell she didnât exactly say ânoâ..â
âYea, but did you see what she was wearing?â
âBoys will be boys!â
âShe should know better than to drink at a partyâŠâ
Cannot not reblog.
âShe should have tried to enjoyââ
âSheâs just saying something now for atten-â
boy am i glad this has so many notes
âBut heâs a dude. Thatâs not ra-â
 âHe shouldâve enjoyed it.â
âShe mustâve lead him on.â
âBut she orgasmed. That means she liked it -Â â
âSheâs slept with so many people! Sheâs a slut-â
âGet over it, at least youâre still a virginâ
âWomen canât rape becauseâŠâ
âBe grateful it wasnât a man!â
âIâm sorry she hurt you but donât call what happened to you rape, itâs an insult to the REAL victimsâŠâ
âYou werenât raped, youâre just lesbophobic.â
âShe shouldnât have posted provocative photos!â
âShe shouldnât have been dressed like that ⊠she was asking for it!â
âItâs the womanâs responsibility to not put herself in dangerous situations, she should have been more aware.â
reblogging because itâs gotten even better since last time
I love this post!
âWell he paid for dinner, she kind of owed him.â
âSheâs his wife, itâs her job to please him.â
âOral isnât rape.â
âWell he wasnât armed, she could have walked away.â
âGuys canât be raped, they love sex!â
âShe didnât fight back; it wasnât rape.â
A good post
the day I do not reblog this is the day Iâm buried six feet under
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
your trauma was never your fault, but healing will always be your responsibility
@Calum5SOS: Gone Skinny dippinâ #couplegoals #thinspiration #vegan
i love that chuck e cheese is in no way shape or form a clown
we seriously need to bring back the concept of âdespite its flaws i still enjoy itâ instead of âcancellingâ every fuckin thing in sightÂ
#we need to trust that just because someone loves a thing it doesnât mean they donât know itâs flawed