#fanfiction writer
TITLE OF STORY: The Loki Equation
CHAPTER NUMBER: Part 23
AUTHOR: Spiesinthedark
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Loki
GENRE: Adventure/Romance
FIC SUMMARY: Odd things begin to happen to a fanfiction writer….
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: Language, sexual innuendos
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“Why do you have that look on your face?”
“I don’t know…it’s just…not what I expected.”
“And what were you expecting, exactly?”
“Well…not this color, that’s for sure. And it’s a lot bigger than I thought it would be, honestly.”
“Thank you darling. How does it feel?”
“Good. It’s heavy, but I feel like I could hit someone with it.”
I hefted the thick pink flashlight, miming a swing at an imaginary adversary’s head. I don’t know if I could kill someone with it, but it could do some serious damage, despite the unfortunate color.
Loki had dropped a gym bag onto my dining room table and was digging through it, handing things out to me. A black sweatshirt, a fanny pack, a retractable stick thing that could easily bust out a kneecap or two. And granola bars, bless him. I’m a snacker.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked, pulling the sweatshirt over my head and picking up the fanny pack.
He pulled out what looked like a building blueprint, spreading it out and holding down the corners with few snack bars. “This is, allegedly, a shipping company’s warehouse. It’s on the south side of the city, and could possibly be the hiding place of one of the two remaining books that we need to recover. Or so I have gathered from a charming individual that resisted my questioning…at first.”
“Why do you say allegedly?” I asked.
“I have completed some preliminary research. The building has no registered owners or executives, no phone number, no internet presence, nothing other than the sign out front.” he responded, peering down at the outline of doors, windows and hallways. Imaging him browsing the internet was a weird visual, I wondered if he had seen porn of himself.
I knew that what he was saying was serious business, but I was having a hard time focusing. He had on a black sweater that was just the right amount of tight, an his green eyes were startlingly bright. He was flush with the thought of a chase. He was saying something about roughing someone up. Hot. I was wondering if I could convince him to rough me up a little. It had been a while.
“…they knocked the woman out, smashed the case and took the book, and set the building ablaze. She recovered in time to escape through a window and went to the authorities. My contact was there during the initial report and passed along the information. Why are you looking at me like that?”
I became vaguely aware that he was speaking to me, and snagged a granola bar to cover my tracks. “So we storm the place, kick butt, and then run away with the book in hand, right?” I asked, fumbling with the wrapper.
His smile was brilliant. “I am surprised, I did not think you were listening.”
“Are you kidding me? Look at me, I am all ears. The very picture of attention.”
Loki, god of mischief and lies, snorted. What a gentleman.
He took the snack from my hand, put it own onto the table, and backed me into the counter. “You’re distracted,” he murmured into my ear, “Would you like to fill me in on your thoughts?”
I absolutely did not. Honestly, the recon mission was the last thing on my to-do list, and he had just rocketed to the top. That sweater needed to come off. And then those pants. And then my pants. I’d probably keep the sweatshirt on, it was cold in my apartment. The books could wait a few hours, right? Did the apocalypse have a ticking timer, counting down? I didn’t think so, but what the heck do I know.
“How long do we have until we need to leave?” I asked, leaning back to look at his face. The crick in my neck was 100% worth it.
His eyes gleamed and darkened, and his smile got wide. “Not long enough, I’m afraid.” I guessed they don’t have quickies where he was from. He was right though, the sky outside the windows was dark and I could see the glow of the streetlights. He had shown up as the sun was setting, nudging his way past me to dig through my fridge before filling me in on his information and game plan.
Loki stepped back, putting space between us and allowing me to breathe again. He handed me the flashlight, and I tucked it into my sweatshirt pocket. Clipping on the fanny pack, I rolled the blueprints up too.
“What’s the chance of us getting shot?” I asked, halfway joking.
“If you stay close to me, highly unlikely” he replied, tucking the bars into my pack. His hands at my waist were warm and gentle as he zipped me up.
“Are you bulletproof?”
“Better, I’m a god.”
“Pardon me your highness.”
We left my apartment shortly after, locking the door behind us and silently making our way down to his car. We buckled in, and he navigated onto the freeway, headed towards the south end.
I had the feeling of impending doom following close behind us. Hopefully his royal highness was all he claimed to be, because I sure as shit wasn’t bulletproof.
(It’s been a VERY long time since I’ve posted. Please, lovely mods, have mercy on me if I submit any of this incorrectly)
TITLE OF STORY: The Loki Equation
CHAPTER NUMBER: Part 22
AUTHOR: Spiesinthedark
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Loki
GENRE: Adventure/Romance
FIC SUMMARY: Odd things begin to happen to a fanfiction writer….
RATING: T
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: None
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The kiss to end all kisses. As in, you could literally die after it’s over because nothing will ever be that good again. A kiss that you wish you could package and sell because you’d be a billionaire in record time. It went on for eternity.
When Loki pulled away, I had no words. I know that sounds completely cliche, and I always thought the saying was bologna, at least until it happened to me. I swear I always have words, it’s one of the lovely things about me. I also felt like I had no bones left, and that was a new feeling as well. I probably would have slid to the floor like a damsel in distress if he hadn’t had a tight grip on my waist.
It was straight out of a movie scene: I was weak in the knees and confused, smooched to the edge of the Earth and brought back in a snap by the intense stare coming from the green eyes inches from my face. I was having a hard time focusing, because he was pressed up against me and was oddly warm. He wasn’t helping either, breathing heavily with his fingers curled into the waistband of my leggings.
“You’re going to rip my pants” I said, breathless.
“I’ll buy you new ones” was the reply, equally low on air.
Wow. I was lucky the clothing item in question didn’t catch fire. Probably because they were way too damp.
It was just flippant enough to give us both pause. The laughter started in me, bursting out with the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. I had tried to stab him, and then he tried to end my world with his mouth. He was caught up in it as well, he had let me go and was doubled over my counter. We both ended up on the floor of my kitchen, gasping, my eyes freely streaming tears and he, drying his own eyes on the sleeve of his sweater. I hadn’t laughed that hard in weeks, and the release felt way better than any orgasm I’d had recently.
He snagged a dishtowel off my stove and handed it to me. I dabbed at my face, getting myself under control. “I’m so sorry”, I said, “Didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”.
He stretched his legs out, smiling, still getting his laughter under control. “The mood was begging to be ruined, lovely. I am sorry as well, I was caught up.” His eyes met mine again, and his burned with a dark green fire. “I’ve missed you.”
I wasn’t about to admit that I missed him too, not that easily. Although if we’re being honest, it was probably apparent on my face. I don’t hide emotions well.
“I honestly thought I’d never see you again,” I said, “I assumed you’d found the other two books, or found some other sucker to drag around”.
His eyes hadn’t left my face, so I could see the fire in them dim slightly. “No, to all assumptions. The other two books are still out in the world, and I could never convince anyone else to come with me, even if I wanted another.” he said, reaching out a hand and wrapping his fingers around my ankle. “You want to ask where I was, don’t you?”
Caught. It must have been obvious.
“You don’t owe me an explanation,” I said, “I forget that you’re not human. I’ve decided that I can’t hold you to the same standards that I would expect from anyone else.”
His eyebrows came together slightly, and he said quietly “No, I’m not human. But you are, and it was cruel of me to leave so suddenly. How long did you wait?”
“Hours. Then days.” I wouldn’t admit to weeks, that would open up the wound that I had worked so hard to close. The grip on my ankle tightened. Was it even possible for gods to feel bad? I hoped so.
“I’m sorry, Rachael.” A pause, then “Will you still help me?”
He had thrown me, headfirst, into a treasure hunt that had brought me face to face with arson, dead bodies, a criminal underworld, and possibly magic. He had eaten my food, kept me safe, kept me not-so-safe, vanished on me and come back again. He had planted a kiss on me that shattered my reality in the best way possible.
“Of course.”
The God of Mischief and Lies and the Fanfiction Writer would save the world together.
We’re back, baby!
writing fanfiction is just. i’m being so creative and original. i’m plagiarizing everyone by accident. i’m a genius. i’m cringe. i’m too angsty. i’m too cheesy. this is not in character. it doesn’t matter that it’s not in character because these are my characters now. i love my hobby. this is the worst possible use of my time. i’m seeking validation. i’m projecting my own personal problems onto this story and i’m barely hiding it. i know so many words and i’m using all of them wrong. im on tumblr posting about it instead of writing it.
Yep
