i can quit when i want

anonymous asked:

Hi, I wanted to know if the Group chat still works? I would love to make new friends, talk about Bts and kpop but it was quite a while ago that you created it. Is it ok to join now? Btw I love your blog and really appriciate the work you put into it 💗 😍 hope you're having a lovely day.

Yes, of course you can join! At times the group chats may be sadly quite dead though, so I’m hoping that you won’t join when it’s dead and feel uncomfortable ;__;

Have a lovely day ♥

anonymous asked:

Hey Emma! I recently started a new studyblr and studygram and would like to keep it anonymous. I would really like some tips on how to?

Hi! Ah, welcome :-) Here are a few things that will be worth doing:

  • avoid using your personal email (or the same as Facebook, etc) on your accounts. If you do use your personal email, uncheck options like “search user by email”
  • go for a nickname instead - you don’t even have to mention a name if you don’t want too!
  • omit most defining details about yourself - it is obviously safer to leave these out anyway but try to avoid anything that is quite obviously about you. Most things you can get away with like country, age and name since it’s hard to determine someone with little information.
  • turn off post notifications when with friends - I always do this! I just get nervous they’ll see it so maybe sure when your phone is out!
  • block them (lools) - I do this on most of my platforms haha! I guess it might be a bit of a giveaway if they do find you but it saves them actually being able to see your stuff.
  • just avoid talking about it - I kinda lie about having Instagram so hopefully people don’t search for me hah!

I hope this helps! :-) xxx

anonymous asked:

Okay hear me out on this for hc: Sub! Pete. Maybe he likes getting smacked around and choked during sex 👌

I love this because I can totally imagine it as much as I can imagine a sub Finn. I know I write them quite dom but don‘t come at me for the following:

Like Pete in the bedroom is something completely different from his in ring persona.

Oh, he‘d love the choking, especially when you ride him good and he‘s so close to coming. He‘d love for you to put both hands around his neck and cut off his air supply while you grind on him, hard.

He also loves to be told what he has to do. When you push his head into you and tell him where you want his tongue to be, while your hands get lost in his hair and dig into his scalp.

despite her bigotry, neglect, manipulation, and general abuse, the worst thing about interacting with my mom is the way she introduces doubts in my mind that i can’t quite dismiss. even if i outwardly reject her toxic ideas, i can’t tell how she’s shaping the way i think, act, live.

when i went home after my first year at college, my hair shorn short with barber clippers i bought on amazon, my mom sat me down and carefully asked “you’re not going to do any other scary things right?”

i didn’t know, at first, what she meant. at the time, i was shuffling through language to use for my gender identity. gender non-conforming felt right, non-binary maybe. i knew i didn’t want to be a man, but i didn’t know if i was trans or not.

she clarified “you won’t do anything else to become like one of those people right? cutting your hair is fine, but surgery or that kind of thing is too much okay?”

though i wasn’t sure about my gender identity, i definitely didn’t want surgery. and at the time i was really proud of myself for sticking up for my ideals, even if the issue at hand wasn’t necessarily relevant to me. i told my mom that what i choose to do with my body is my decision alone and that i would do what i wanted without offering any clarification on what i may or may not want. she told me she had given birth to a beautiful baby girl and she knew me and she knew i wasn’t like that. and she cried.

i held my ground, almost amused by how stereotypically transphobic she was being. i felt self-righteous, rebellious, proud for pushing her back. but even then i was already distancing myself from a trans identity. i was able to fight back because i didn’t think of her concerns as relevant to myself. it’s easy to stand by your ideals when the situation is only theoretical.

since then, i’ve embraced the butch identity, emphasizing that i am a cis woman. i argue that nothing i do takes away from my identity as a woman. why can’t women love women, have short hair, be crude, be masculine, wear “men’s” clothing? i say i’m butch, im gender-nonconforming, i’m challenging expectations, breaking boundaries, proving to men that they cannot limit my body, that i am not an object of their desire, that i can and will access things they try to claim only for men.

but that’s when the doubts creep in and i can’t help wondering if my mom succeeded in imbuing me with her transphobia, despite my outward belligerence. are my arguments for my relationship with womanhood just thinly veiled transphobia, efforts to distance myself from “those people”? do i emphasize my womanhood to break down gender norms or just to have reason to continuing being “cis”? there’s no way to answer that, no way i can determine exactly how much she’s influencing my thoughts, how much of my life is shaped by her. and i fucking hate that. i hate that she makes me doubt my own thoughts and self-identity.

anonymous asked:

lots of ppl think that they can be vegan and drink like vege/fruit drinks instead of meals and DONT they are waaaaay terrible for u. if u want a small meal DONT go for carbs lots of websites are like "granola this or trail mix that" instead u should eat loooots of tofu bc its rly filling but not really heavy! ALSO, fruits and veges with lots of fiber give u some weight right away but are easy to purge/pass naturally so those are nice when u need to feel full etc

ahh okay thank you! i actually quite like tofu so i’ll be sure to buy more of it!

anonymous asked:

What are some ways to tell you have a crush on someone? I recently made a new friend who's more open to physical contact with friends (theater kids, you know the type, she's lots of fun) and I don't know if I'm just touch-deprived but I started feeling like I want to get to know her better and stuff. #honestadvice

sometimes when i make a new friend i’ll have a surge of very intense platonic feelings and it can feel a lot like infatuation. infatuation is fleeting but genuine romantic feelings are quite persistent so the only way to really tell is to just wait it out and see what it grows into. just let your friendship progress naturally; as you learn more about her your feelings will become clearer. and enjoy the hugs and stuff bc that’s always nice. 

FRIENDLY REMINDER TO REBLOG ART

If you like it, even if you don’t know what fandom it’s from or whatever, please reblog. it can make an artists day to see that someone cared enough to share their art with the world. That exposure can lead to the artist getting more followers and people willing to pay for their art. Reblogging art can actually help artists get to the point where they can make a living off of what they love doing!

[TRANS] non-no Magazine 2018 Jan Issue - 100 Answers w/ BTS

JPN - KRN © 전정국 DC갤러리, 뷔 DC갤러리, ha_ru_man, BTSR_613
KRN - ENG © ktaebwi

JUNGKOOK

Q1. Your dream job when you were a child?
A badminton player when I was in elementary school. After that my parents bought me a computer so I got into gaming and wanted to do a job about gaming.

Q2. How did the members celebrate your birthday in 2017?
We were all practicing singing and dancing and the lights suddenly went off, then the door was opened and Jimin-san and V-san came in holding a cake.

Q3. When do you feel like you have become an adult!
I turned 20 in Japanese age in September! But actually I’m still a kid at heart, so truthfully I don’t really feel like I have become an adult.

Q4. In which moment do you feel like you’re still a kid?
For example, when I watch and think about a video or an interview. When I read people’s comments, I feel like even with the same question, they think from a much bigger point of view than me. That’s when I feel like maybe I’m still lacking in depth.

Q5. A work that touched you recently?
“Love, Rosie”. It made me touched because it’s a sweet but sad love story.

Q6. The kind of song you’re planning to compose?
Song of styles like future base and chillstep which I enjoy and listen to a lot.

Q7. Favorite dessert?
The Japanese snack kinako mochi. I like that it melts in my mouth because it’s just so fluffy! Also I ate cheesecake before the photoshoot for <non-no>. That one was delicious too♡

Q8. How do you take care of your beautiful voice?
I don’t pay particular attention to it… Like I just sing with my original voice I’ve had since I was born…

Q9. Any habit?
Covering my nose when I yawn. Not mouth but nose somehow. (laughs) And I pull the baby hair on my face unconsciously. I know about these things because fans told me.

Keep reading

  • ellen: so... how do you feel being here?
  • namjoon, in korean: you pieces of shit, don't you even try saying something stupid, we have worked so hard only for you to embarrass us in front of ellen, so you either stay quiet or i'm killing you and dismembering you and burying you in different places, am i clear?
  • yoongi: *raises his hand*
  • namjoon: yes yoongi
  • yoongi: when you kill us can you bury me beside hoseok, thanks
  • hoseok: i second that
  • jungkook: you want to be buried beside your self?
  • seokjin: well if he dismembers us then it's possible i guess
  • taeyung: if that's so, then i want to be buried beside van Gogh hyung
  • jimin: *sits quietly*
  • ellen:
  • namjoon:
  • BTS:
  • namjoon: i qUIT! gOOD LUCK FINDING A LAST MINUTE TRANSLATOR! YOU GUYS DON'T UNDERST-
  • ellen: did I just see a nervous breakdown?
To Jungkook you’re just a girlfriend. - pt.2

[pt.1] [p.2] [pt.3 End]


Originally posted by eatupbangtan

The more I thought about him, the more I couldn’t stop my tears from falling. But at the same time, the more I thought about this whole situation, the more I feel as though I was overreacting. He was right, I’m only his girlfriend - we’re not tied down to one another and he can hang with whoever he wants to hang out with. But her. She’s always liked Jungkook even though we’ve been together for this long, she never gave up on him and he knows what feelings she has for him. Do you blame me for being insecure? For being scared of the fact that I might end up losing the man I see my future with because of her? But it’s all too late now, there’s no use in being scared, or insecure because it all happened. Everything he ever assured you of, that they’ll only ever remain as friends, that he won’t do anything to lead her on, that he won’t hurt you like that, all those things he said, they meant nothing because those are all the things he did. 

I hear a knock on my door and I dreaded who stood behind it, but to my pleasant surprise I guess it wasn’t Jungkook.

Keep reading

i miss the secret messages so i made my own:

  1. …ready for it?: let the games begin
  2. end game: I’m in it for the long haul so don’t play games with me
  3. I did something bad: I don’t owe him a single fucking thing
  4. don’t blame me: you’re my drug and I’m never quitting 
  5. delicate: I want this to last so I’m being careful
  6. look what you made me do: hiss
  7. so it goes… : when it’s just the two of us everything makes sense
  8. gorgeous: you’re hot as hell
  9. getaway car: we met while I was running away so you can’t be surprised that I left you too
  10. king of my heart: I can see us lasting forever
  11. dancing with our hands tied: the world tried to tear us apart but we kept dancing together 
  12. dress: sex.
  13. this is why we can’t have nice things: first of all, fuck you
  14. call it what you want: you don’t know about our little world
  15. new year’s day: what’s important is what’s left after the magic fades

In today’s Twitter clue, you can see “chef” much more clearly than yesterday. It also reveals the writing underneath the second man– many of us previously assumed it said “waiter”, when in reality, it says “butler”. 

Here’s something interesting I’d like to point out:

Look at the writing underneath our detective. It very clearly says “the” and something else- I cant quite make it out, and I don’t want to assume “detective” without more evidence. But let’s focus on “the” for a moment.

Take a look at the “h”, and then look at how well the bottom of the letters match up. 

That’s not handwriting.

That is from a typewriter.

In fact, let’s look back at the handwriting under the original picture as well, because that tells us something vitally important.

Those two words were not written by the same person. 

Whatever these names indicate, there are three different people recording them. 

Now, I’m going crazy with the implications of this handwriting. This part here is PURE speculation, but if I had to guess, the word “chef” was written by Wilford, “Butler” by Dark, and the words that are typed belong to the Host. That’s only based on the psychology we know from these characters– “Chef” is made with messy, bold, brash letters, written in all caps with a heavy hand. “Butler” is written in a lighter hand with more precise lettering, underlined with a flourish. And we have already seen numerous connections between the Host and typewriters. Again, that is ALL simply speculation, but it’s something to think about.

One last thing that this clue tells us:

Many are guessing that the crossed-out eyes signify the deaths of these characters. If that’s the case, then there is a good chance that this collection of photographs isn’t just something being revealed to us bit-by-bit, but is being shown to us in real time. Why? 

Because we may have just seen him alive two days ago.

Some people accumulate too much iron in their blood. And so it accumulates in their organs, wrecking them, destroying them from the inside out. The only solution they have is to bleed, every so often, to get rid of the toxic substance in their blood.

I- my body is healthy. It is my mind that accumulates too much words in my head. They weigh down my shoulders, make it hard to stand up straight. They put pressure on my eyeballs. The only solution I have is to write, to cry ever so often, to get rid of the toxic ink in my veins, until it all comes back again.

I am not asking for your pity. What am I with your pity? Pity is meant for a lost cause, and I am not lost. I am too weighed down, and sometimes I need to curl into myself when everything becomes too much but I am here. I feel it in my aching shoulders, I feel it in my pounding heart, I feel it in the breath my lungs take.

Sometimes I wish to be lost, but that’s not right, not quite. I want to be free. It is the opposite of being lost- it is knowing so profoundly where you are and where you can go and how much you can accomplish.

I am not asking for your pity, but I am asking for your understanding. Understand how hard this is for me, how tired I am, how much I want to give up. I am asking for your help. Help me rewrite different words with this ink in my head. Help me make sense of it all. Help me forget myself.

Listen.

Listen to me.

Listen to my quiet. Because I’ll never tell you this, it is too scary to share. But I want you so badly to know. When I go quiet it is not because of you; I am somewhere else. I am trapped into my head, pointing out everything I have ever done wrong.

When I seem cold or detached, it is not because of you. It is because I fear to let you know me, because I think there is something fundamentally wrong with me. It is because I am exhausted of being around people, because even when I am myself I feel like I am faking it.

I do not wish to be lost. I wish to be grounded. Not weighed down- grounded. They are not the same. I wish for these feet of mine to sprout roots into this earth, to be able to call this body of mine a home, and not a sin. To feel like I belong here, because I am here, to feel like I deserve to be taking up this space. To not feel like I should be shrinking myself to make room for you, or someone else. To not feel my tongue curling up because I don’t dare to spit out words, to not mute my cellphone because all my friends are talking and I feel like I have nothing worthwhile to say. Because I feel they would be better off without me.

I’d like to learn to just be a little, in peace. I’d like to live a little, I’d like to not feel like I should prove myself all the time.

It is hard for me. I’d like you to understand that so much.

I am not asking you to fix me, I am not asking you for anything. Just a second of your precious time to help me see I am here, and I am allowed to be here.

Just a minute of your time to help me remember how to breathe.

Just a smile, a little shake of your head, to show me that you don’t understand this world either.

Just a moment, so that I don’t feel so alone. Just a respite of this endless frustration of fighting against my own thoughts.

This prompt was sitting in my massive page of notes, and I don’t know what message it came from, but it was next in line to be written, so!

Neil would be worried that Andrew was cheating (even though he never would) and Andrew would have to reassure him.


There is a winter inside of Neil that he hadn’t had time to prepare for, like he’s living in a summer home that doesn’t know what to do with cold weather other than bow its head and take the damage. 

He’s never been jealous before. He’s never been so willing to kill someone who hasn’t killed anybody first.

He looks up from the breathe in breathe out of day to day life and Andrew is there like the respirator he’s hooked into. If someone looks at Andrew, Neil feels it like a hitch in the machinery of his breathing — what if Andrew looks back? What if he gets enough distance from the bad things in his life that he realizes Neil is just another bad thing in disguise? What if he understands, as Neil does, that he deserves someone who isn’t violent and shaky and dishonest by nature?

He takes Marshall down to the floor of the court, hard. His head spills back in such a way that Neil can tell he’s been concussed, brain pitched back against skull. He scrabbles with Neil’s wrists but Neil pins his hands down on his own throat, pushing in just so. Marshall’s hands flex away from his windpipe. He thinks his own face might be screwed up into a snarl but he’s too numb to tell.

“Did you fuck him?”

Whatthe fuck, Josten, no, do you think he would let me—“

A lift and a slam back into the floor, and Marshall gurgles. “I didn’t ask if he let you. I asked if you fucked him.”

“No, no, I didn’t, Neil, come on.” His voice is garbled, Neil’s hands on his hands on his throat are a sweaty stack. “I know you’re together,” he says quietly, “and I wasn’t… I mean I flirt—I hit on everyone.”

“Not him,” Neil says icily. His fingers curl, Marshall makes a small, wet sound. He thinks about the way that Andrew let Marshall sit next to him on the bench. Neil had been playing, and he’d seen Andrew’s mouth move, talking to another teammate for the first time since they’d signed together. Marshall had thrown his head back and laughed.

Neil had taken a ball to the abdomen and reeled into another striker, been shoved back, started a slurry of violence that ended in a yellow card. When Andrew finally looked at him, it had been with disappointment.

Neil blinks and feels the padding of Marshall’s gear under his thighs, the wheezing rise of his chest. He lets go of his neck and he coughs and gasps.

“You can’t—“ he tries. “He wouldn’t want—“ He hates the ugly way he’s trying to convince himself out loud, the tremor in his voice. “He didn’t come home until morning. He smelled like your shitty menthols.”

Keep reading

Once Upon A Flannel

Title: Once Upon A Flannel

Summary: Dean doesn’t know how or why he fell in love with her. But he does know one thing. It all started with a flannel

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer (mentioned), Castiel (mentioned)

Word count: 3977 (totally worth it, I promise)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Some language. Implied smut. Death of a loved one, mentions of blood and references to grief. 

Author’s Notes: This is my very late submission for @luci-in-trenchcoats‘ AU & Things Challenge. Michelle, I can’t even thank you enough for being so patient with me about this. I fell so in love with the story and wanted to do it justice. 

Special thank you to twin @ravengirl94 for reading parts of it over for me and listening to me whine, I don’t know what I’d do without her.

My prompt for this was flannel (obviously, lol) and you’ll see what I did with it in the text *winks* Also, this fic was loosely inspired by Ed Sheeran’s How Would You Feel (You need to listen to that, btw, his new album is amazeballs)

Thank you for all of your love and support. Enjoy <3


The first time Dean sees her in one of his flannels, it’s after a wendigo hunt.

Autumn’s slowly creeping its way into his life again, its tawny leaves and withered hedges painting the scene in golden colors and, even though he rarely takes the time to appreciate things like these anymore, he stops for a second and breathes it all in, the crispiness and the rustles and the shadows of change.

And then, she swims into view.

She’s sitting on the hood of a Bronco in Bobby’s scrap yard, fallen leaves dancing at her feet, as she stares straight ahead, at the sky that’s turning to orange, and smiles.

And he doesn’t notice at first, but there’s something familiar there, in the red and white fabric that wraps around her, in the way the garment dwarfs her, in the rolled-up sleeves and the hem that reaches her mid-thigh and he realizes that it’s his clothes she’s wearing.

She looks beautiful.

Keep reading

An Elves beauty


After the Hunger was taken care of, after the battle, after everything has calmed down there was alot of catching up to do. The Taaco twins left their friends and lovers to spend time alone together. Lup giving Barry a kiss and Taako tightly squeezing Kravitz hand before the two take each others arms and start walking off to any where they can be alone.

They end up curled together in Taako bed in his old room at the Bureau of Balance. With out and umbrella in the way to stop conversation and physical contact they held each other close and talked non-stop. The warmth and the noise surrounded them, the comforting sound of their siblings voice made them feel safe and protected.

Then Lup asks a question, something that most would think is nothing, a small question that doesn’t hold a deeper meaning then the words said. But they both knew what she meant when she said, “Can I see your face?”

She wanted to see him with out the spell he casts and recasts everytime it ends. She wants to see what happened in wonderland.

It was quite for a moment and Taako looks away from her eyes for a moment before there’s a change in his appearance and he goes from gorgeous to plain. His lips less plump, his eyes less bright, his hair a mess. Lup let’s out a breath she was holding in and Taako laughs weakly, “I guess you’re the pretty twin now, huh?”

Lup smiles and pulls him closer to her chest. She runs her hand threw his hair for a while before pulling away and looking into his eyes.

She wipes his tears, which they will never mention to anyone, not even each other, and smiles at him.

“What are you talking about?” She laughs, “Look at those lashes, I could never beat those. And you’re freckles, I’m still as jealous as ever.”

Lup goes on and on about how he is still a sight for sore eyes, breath taking to everyone who’s ever been lucky enough to see him. Taako laughs as tears roll off his cheeks and as his sister wipes them away.

When it’s silent and they are laying there, holding each other so they never loose each other again. Taako whispers a thank you and Lup squeezes his hand and he squeezes back. It’s the little I love Yous that mean the most to them. It means more than an elves beauty

Imagine Woozi constantly kissing your cheeks because he finds them so kissable.

How to read 20 minutes a day in your target language(s)

Why you should do it? 

Story time: A few years ago, I had to prepare an exam that was quite hard (it takes you 2 years to prepare it, and you basically study more than 12 hours a day). I had to study around 10 different subjects, among which English and Spanish. So when our English teacher told us that to make progress we had to read in English for 20 minutes every day, we felt like it was going to be impossible. However, most of us decided to give it a try and we didn’t regret it: the results were super good and we all made a lot of progress very quickly ! (I guess the key here is immersion) So here’s how to read in your target language for 20 minutes every day :) 

When to read ? 

Finding 20 minutes each day to read can be quite hard. You can try to do it at night before going to sleep, which can be a good idea for some of people, but you might be tired, not very focused on your reading or want to watch a movie instead. And if you’re a party animal you might miss a lot of days ;) 
What I did was reading while I took my breakfast, for maybe 5 or 10 minutes. But I often didn’t have the time to read or to take a breakfast at all so I found out that the best method for me was to read while I was on the bus. I had 25 minutes of bus every morning so that was the perfect time to read some English. I would just download a few articles on my phone, sit down and read :) Sometimes I would also read on the way back. 
Some other methods that might work for you could be reading while brushing your teeth, waiting for the bus, waiting for your episode to download, waiting for the water to boil, during lunch or dinner etc. If you can find only 5 minutes four times a day, you’ve done it ! :) 

What to read ? 

I personnally mainly read newpapers articles because I had to focus on the news for my exam. 
But it’s even better if you vary what you read: it can be a book, a magazine, some poetry, lyrics, browsing social networks in your target language, fanfiction… whatever you like :) For example, I really love surfing so I still read the World Surf League articles in English and Portuguese almost every day.  The more you vary your resources, the more vocabulary you’ll learn and the more you will be immersed in the language !

Also an alternative that my English teacher gave us was to read for 15 minutes and then listen (to a podcast, an audiobook, the radio, the news etc…) for 10 minutes. 

Good luck and trust me you should try it! :) 

I told you not to touch, didn’t I baby? I asked you to be a good boy and not cum for a week and you didn’t listen. Aw baby, that doesn’t make you a bad boy but it does mean have to be punished, understand? That’s my good boy.

Well since you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, why don’t I cuff them to the bed frame? There we go, nice and snug, and you don’t need those pants baby. You’re already so wet, oh what? Do you like when I rub your clit?

Ah ah ah, no bucking. None of that, I’m in charge right sugar? I get to play with my naughty little cum slut how ever I like. Ha you make the prettiest faces baby boy, you like when I slip my fingers into your greedy cunt, don’t you?

Tell me, how many times did you cum before I caught you? Two? Oh so you’re already pretty sensitive but you won’t cum quite so quick? Mmm then I can be as rough as I want with you and you won’t cum for a while yet?

Tsk what did I say about the bucking? Good boy, my good boy who’s going to cum three more times just for me, okay? Oh I know you want to because you just clenched down on my fingers and I can feel your legs shaking. Aw darling, we’re going to have so much fun tonight.

Villain

 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4-1 Part 4-2 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: The Reader gets kidnapped.

I stood in front of the full length mirror and gazed at my reflection, my eyes drifting watching Loki through the mirror as he approached, wrapping his arm around me as we both gazed at our reflection.

“You look quite ravishing in that dress, darling.” He cooed in my ear as his eyes ran up and down my body. “I have a few suggestions as to why you should stay here with me.” He says nibbling on my earlobe.

“Yeah?” I smiled as I felt the twitch in his pants.

“Hmm mmm.” He nods as he slips his hand between my legs.

“No.” I squealed trying to bat is hand away, but I was no match for his arousal.

“Just the head.”  He teased.”

“Do you remember the last time when you only put the head in?” I asked.

He smiles against my ear. “Hmmm,“ he purred. “I remember it quite well.”

“I slept for two days.”

I turned to him, his face painted in a boyish grin that touches his eyes and sparkles.

He shrugs, “I will be more…” He trails off, I glanced down at the bulge in his pants that was aching to break free. “I cannot keep my hands off you and when we make love, I want you to feel everything that I feel, I want you to experience all of me.”

“You do know you’re a God right?”

He rolled his eyes, “how can I forget when you keep reminding me.”

He was getting defensive.

I touched his face and ran my thumb across his bottom lip. “I keep reminding you because you seem to forget your own strength and physical power.”

“I am gentle.” He holds me at arm length. “Have I hurt you?”

“No, no, no. But it takes time for me to recover from one of our sessions.” I say.

“You know what would help.”

“Yes, I do, but -.”

“But you are not ready.” He finished my sentence, turning to sit on the bed.

“Don’t get pouty.”

“I do not pout.”

“You get pouty when you don’t get your way.”

“I always get my way.”

“With magic and manipulation.” I quipped.

He eyes me, “you have such a smart mouth, I should put something in it.”

“I will bite it.”

“And I will have to punish you for causing bodily harm.”

“And I will gladly take the punishment.” I countered.

He exhales harshly. “Do you have to have the last word?”

I shrugged. “Yes. I always get my way.”

“With seduction and sexual manipulation.” He states as the atmosphere in the room shifted.

“Seduction, yes that’s a given. Manipulation,well, I learned that from the you.” I corrected as I walked towards him and stood in between his knees.

He runs his fingers up my dress, deftly tugging on the zipper. “What else have you learned from me?” He asked.

My heartbeat hammered in my chest as he pulled the button to his pants, his bulge spilling forth.

I held his shoulders as he slid my panties down to my knees revealing my bare derriere.

He inhales sharply.

“I learned delayed gratification.” I whispered in his ear then kissed his cheek. “I’m late.”

His mischievous grin was plastered across my face as I made it to Earth, thanks to the dimensional rift he created for me to travel between Asgard and Earth.

I checked the zipper on my dress to make sure it was fastened and I shifted my panties into place as I stepped through the rift that closed a few seconds later.

“You’re late.” Nat says as the darkened window to the truck slides down.

“Sorry,” I say as I crossed the street and approached the truck, climbing into the backseat.

The door was barely closed as Nat speed away.

“I can’t believe Bruce trusts you with his truck.” I say examining the spacious interior.

“I’m an excellent driver.” Nat says matter-of-factly.

“Defensive driver,” Wanda says from the passenger seat.

We all laughed in union.

We pulled up to Night, a supernatural club/lounge that is only known by those who have or know someone with special abilities. We bypassed the lines and went straight to the VIP section that was reserved for us. Our drinks arrived, Wanda had a red bubbly concoction, Natasha a inky black blob that didn’t look appeasing, and I had a plain creamery.

“What’s it like?“ Wanda asked taking a sip of her drink.

“What’s what like?” I asked.

Wanda nodded slyly. “Sleeping with a God.”

“And don’t say it’s anything like with a human because that would be a disappointment.” Natasha interjected.

“It’s different.” I answered.

“That’s it?” Nat asked. “It’s different?” She rolled her eyes, “c’mon, there’s more to it.”

“Loki has superior human strength that gives him superior endurance in all physical activities.”

“What does that mean?” Wanda inquired.

“It means what they do in the bedroom is not of this world.” Nat answered, winking at me.

They both laughed as I took a long swallow of the drink that began to swim in my head.

We danced and enjoyed the night for what is was, tonight’s outing was mainly for Wanda and Natasha, who both needed a break from the missions that have been taking over their lives.

The night was a whirlwind as we exited the nightclub laughing to ourselves.

“Do you need one of the guy’s to walk you to your car?” The bouncer at the door asked.

We declined, not knowing how different the night might have ended if we accepted his invitation.

I remembered that Wanda stepped out first because she commented on the chill in the air, then myself, followed by Natasha. I had the keys, so I walked ahead, we were a few feet away from the truck when it all became a blur, I heard a commotion behind me and turned. Wanda had two guys immobile while the third was making slashing movements with a sword. Natasha was standing over the body of an unknown person who was slumped on the ground, her head snaps up and I will never forget the look on her face.

“Get through the rift.” She screams.

I opened the amulet that hung around my neck and felt my legs moving faster than my mind could comprehend as I dashed to the golden pattern that began to form on the ground where the rift would open.

I glanced down and noticed that I lost a heel in the process. l stepped on the pattern and the rift began to activate and open.

“Don’t let her escape.” A muffled voice say.

The electric shock vibrated through my body and I staggered backwards. I glanced down and saw the two metal prongs latched into my skin. I tried to take a step, but another shock brought me to my knees. I pulled the amulet from my neck and tossed it. I gazed at the opened rift as it sucked up my other heel and the amulet, closing and disappearing a few seconds later.

“Loki!” I heard myself scream internally, but I knew he couldn’t hear me.

A hood covers my head and I became weightless as I was carried into a car. I heard Natasha screaming out my name, but the figures I was squeezed in between held me down as the car sped away.

The hood comes off my head and the cold salty air washed across my face as we switched cars. I gazed up into the blinding light, blinking until the silhouette of a figure appeared. I saw his bright white smile as he placed the cloth over my mouth.

“This will be sure to get his attention.” I heard the groggy voice say as I slumped into unconsciousness.

Post Note: And it begins…Loki x Reader. 

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