Your multi-fandom fan-girl (say that five times fast) Minors DNI. I’ll have LOTS of re-blogging and hopefully I’ll be able to post something original once in a blue moon 🌙
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Summary: Ghosts from your past begin popping up right as you become an Avenger, and you can't help but lose yourself in the memories. And how they shaped how you approached relationships moving forward. | …I search the party of better bodies just to learn that you never cared
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 6.6 words (grab some water; stay hydrated y'all)
Warning/s: first half has high school dynamics of the toxic variety; language (so much cussing…look away, Rogers); bullying; adolescent manipulation; asshole Queen Bee behavior towards Reader; insecure Reader [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: first half takes place in like late 2000s; Morgan being a whole cutie pie; idiots in yearning hours; cinnamon roll Loki hours
Fifteen years ago…
You weren't usually one to do touch ups on your appearance throughout the day; you'd pick your outfit and fix your hair before you even left the house, and that was that. Today, though…today was different. And so were the last few days.
Ever since your Science class teacher Mrs. Matthews made you lab partners with Justin, currently the most popular guy in your year after he helped the football team secure a spot at Nationals as a sophomore. The girls were practically tripping over themselves the day the pairings were announced, bribe presents in hand for your teacher to hopefully partner him up with them.
But then she produced a piece of paper from her satchel, revealing that not only could she not be swayed, but she'd already determined who would be paired off with whom for this particular project. And by her decree, Justin was your partner.
So for the last week and a half, you took it upon yourself to dart off into the girls' bathroom before your Science class and make sure that you didn't have any strands of hair poking up and out of your ponytail. After all, it never hurt to make yourself presentable. You swiped on a thin coat of Chapstick and pinched your cheeks, deciding you were ready for the class ahead, and giddily walked to Mrs. Matthews' classroom with a spring in your step.
"Y/N, can I talk to you a minute?"
Turning around, you came face to face with Sydney, a girl you shared both History and English with. She seemed uneasy, hands gripped tight to the strap of her crossbody bag and her lips pressed together in an awkward grimace.
"Sure," you told her, glancing at the wall clock nearby. You had time before class started.
"I heard you're partnered up with Justin in Science?" She gave you a tight smile as you vigorously nodded your head. "Something you need to know. I know that right now he's been like super sweet to you, acting all interested. Probably even had lunch with you once or twice since Mrs. Matthews paired you up?"
"Hang on, what is this, Syd?"
"Just--Yes or no, Y/N."
"I--I mean, yes. We've been getting to know each other since Mrs. Matthews partnered us up, there's nothing wrong with that, what the fuck."
She took a breath, her knuckles going white as she gripped her bag strap even tighter. "God damn, I was hoping that this wasn't the case."
"You know, jealousy really isn't a good look on you," you said through gritted teeth, squinting your eyes at her. You could feel yourself freakishly getting warmer despite your hands starting to get clammy. Great. Now you had to go to the bathroom again and make sure your face wasn't splotchy before going into the classroom.
You were gonna be late for Science.
"Girl, trust me?! This isn't jealousy." Her voice grew a bit more shrill, her stance getting defensive. "I was partnered with him for a book report last semester. He did the same thing. Had lunch with me, even asked me to hang out with him one weekend. He would say things that made me think he was reading the book and actually putting in the work, and before I knew it, I unknowingly wrote our entire book report without him putting in a single word other than his name. And then when we got our papers back and he got his A+, suddenly it's like he couldn't even be within six feet of me. Like I was contagious or something."
You took a few breaths before answering her, smoothing your hands over your clothes and straightening your posture. "Well that's nothing like this project. He actually helps, he's just not that good with the actual writing, so he sends links."
"Links?" she repeated, snorting at the word. "That's it? Not even some notes about what he read on the page? Like at least tell me he did that."
If you were a cartoon, your ears would have been steaming by now. "This is nothing like that," you insisted, turning on your heel and stomping into Mrs. Matthews' classroom.
Justin was already inside, and when he saw you he waved you over, patting the back of the seat next to his. The cheerleaders he was talking to threw you a snarky look before turning around with a flip of their hair and catwalking out of the room to their own class.
"You okay?" he asked you once you set your bag down. "You're looking a bit red."
"Huh?" you said dumbly, shaking your head like a dog, as if that would help in shooing away your irritation. "Yeah, yeah, of course. It's just…warm." You tried not to cringe at your lame excuse.
"It really is," he said with a smile, reaching into his own bag and pulling out a bottle of Gatorade. "Here. It should help."
"What? No, no, it's okay." You made a motion with your hands to politely decline. "You need it. You have like…practice later."
Your breath audibly hitched when he reached over and took your hand, placing the bottle in it and closing your fingers around it. He gave you one of those wide shining grins that always had the girls swooning. "We have water fountains, I'll be fine. Really, Y/N, I insist."
"Okay," you said, your voice smaller than usual. Almost squeaky. "Thank you."
"By the way I found a few more links that might be useful for our paper."
You tried to silence Sydney's words to you from earlier, forcing a smile on your face as you tried to keep yourself checked in to this conversation. "Ohh, yeah…just send it over to me after school. Honestly we're making really good progress, we might be able to turn our paper in by like…next week, probably."
"Oh sick! You're awesome." Your heart did a little flutter at his words, followed by a big flutter when he placed his arm over the back of your seat, leaning in a bit closer to you. "What're your plans for the weekend, by the way?"
"Uhh, I--Ahh--uhm…" you stammered, words suddenly failing to process between your brain and your mouth. "Nothing, really. I don't like making plans for my free time, I usually just like to keep it…you know, free." You capped off your bumbling answer with a lame chuckle. Though it felt a little less lame when he let out a little laugh along with you.
"Well, I'm throwing a little pool party on Saturday. You should come. Maybe spend some of your free time there. With me."
The widest smile stretched across your face at his words. "I'd like that."
"Great! I'll see you there. And listen, just because it's a pool party you don't need to feel pressured to wear like a bikini or something. Casual dress code, I promise."
You drove like a madman straight out of the school parking lot to the mall the second the final bell rang for the day, spending about a month's worth of your savings on an outfit for Saturday. That morning, you received a text from him that the party would start at around 4 in the afternoon, telling you that he looked forward to seeing you there.
For most of the morning, you worked your brain to a screeching halt finishing up the paper and printing it with both your names on the cover page. You figured it would be a nice surprise to present the paper for him to sign -- as per Mrs. Matthews' instructions for submitting this particular assignment -- perhaps sometime after the party was over.
Giving yourself another once over in the mirror, you made a few final adjustments to the dark evergreen two-piece swimsuit you'd chosen before draping the sheer black caftan your mom lent you over your shoulders. You decided to follow your parents' advice and drive to the rather opulent neighborhood that Justin's family lived in. "That way you don't have to wait for us in case you need to make a quick exit," your dad said before tossing you the car keys.
When you pulled up to the Vergazo family's home, there were already a handful of cars parked in the driveway. You slung your little crocheted satchel across your body and walked through the towering double doors, a member of the house staff pointing you toward the backyard where thumping music was coming from.
You were quickly drawn to the fire pit, and you decided you'd go over there to mingle with a few friendly faces from your other classes before you went around to look for Justin. On your way there, you crossed paths with Syd, and you gave each other a small smile, both of you hoping that the ugliness from earlier this week was something you could easily get past.
The way you saw it, no friendship was worth throwing away over a guy. Any guy.
"Damn girl, you look good!" Shane, another one of your and Syd's friends, exclaimed. He slowly clapped alongside his boyfriend Isaac, scooting over on the curved bench to clear up some room for you. "Where the hell you been hiding all that?"
"Under my fear for getting dress coded," you shot back, raising your voice so he could hear you over the loud music. "You know how some of the teachers get if you show so much as an inch of clavicle."
Both boys threw their heads back, laughing as they quoted one of your teachers in a mocking tone. "You're distracting the boys' learning!"
"Honestly though, I swear one of them has it out for you," Shane said. "Didn't I hear like last week that Health teacher tried to code you for showing too much neck?"
"Ugh, you mean Miss Boom Shaka Laka?" That made the boys let out a laugh again. "I'm not even gonna bother knowing her actual name, I'm putting in a request that that hateful bitch never becomes my teacher, she's gonna fail me on the spot. But yeah…and I remember last semester she tried to code Syd too. And I shit you not, it was for her sleeves being too short."
"Someone should report her," Isaac spoke up. "That feels…like, I don't know, a bit vindictive."
"Feels like that bad guy from Totally Spies," Shane quipped.
"She's bald! She's bald and she's torturing people with hair!" you all said in unison before breaking out into another fit of laughter.
The music started to quiet down and the DJ's mic began to pick up a conversation that came through on the speakers. Shane made a motion for both you and Isaac to stop talking, tilting his head toward the speakers. Two voices were getting picked up by the mic. One was Rianne, captain of the cheer squad.
The other voice was Justin's.
"Can't believe you even invited that freak here. She's gonna kill the whole vibe when she gets here," she complained to him.
"Ohh hey that's me," you deadpanned at the guys, waving your arms toward each other like goofs. "Too late, byotch. Already here."
"Come on, baby," he cooed at her. "Don't be like that. Every girl deserves to be Cinderella for a night."
"You're too fucking sweet to her," she hissed. "Pushing your goddamn luck, I'm two steps away from making turning Cinderella into Prom Queen Carrie."
"Ohh this mega cunt needs to be put down," Isaac seethed, already making a motion to stand up.
"Don't even bother, she's not worth it," you told him, reaching over his boyfriend to grab onto his arm and make him sit back down. "In a couple years we're gonna be out of this hellhole and we'll be free of bitches like Rianne. And she's gonna be whining about the next girl whose mere existence offends her, and whatever we're doing? My hand to God we will be killing it."
"Yeah, but Ri you know the best part about Cinderella, right?" Justin's voice came through on the speakers again. "Eventually the clock strikes midnight, and then everything that was going right with her life turns right back to shit."
You and the boyfriends gave each other a look, as if telling each other 'Are you hearing this shit?'
"But baby how long do I have to wait for fucking midnight already?"
"She said we're ready to turn in that paper to Mrs. Matthews this week, baby." Your stomach dropped at his reveal, and Shane grabbed on to your hand, Isaac moving to sit on your other side. "Almost time to turn back into a pumpkin." A few moments passed and then his voice came through again. "Ohh hey Sydney. I asked Y/N to come here today, do you know if she's gonna be here soon?"
"She's already here." You could hear the amount of restraint that Syd was exerting in just those three words. "Friendly advice? Try not having incriminating conversations when you're like two feet from a microphone."
A collective 'Ooooh' broke out all over the Vergazos' backyard, and you stood up from your seat, facing Justin and Rianne's direction. Even from this far you could see a bit of the color leaving his face when he locked eyes with you.
"Dumb fucking jock," Syd muttered before walking back toward the fire pit.
Once she made her way over to you and the guys, all you managed to say as you felt your fingers go numb was, "You were right. And I was wrong. I'm sorry."
"Babe, you have nothing to apologize for. He's the asshole in this," she reassured you, taking hold of one of your hands. "Let's just get out of here."
"No, I should get to be the asshole, too," you said, your tone detached as you reached into your bag, pulling out your joint research project. The one you worked like a dog to finish before you left the house. The one he didn't do a damn thing to help with because he "wasn't any good with the writing bits".
You didn't break eye contact with the football player as you side stepped toward the open fire and tossed the paper in there. His expression quickly turned panicked as the flames grew nearly as tall as you for a split second, the stench of burning paper filling the air.
"Now let's get outta here," you told your friends, already walking out of the fire pit and maneuvering through the people so you can get back to your car.
You all let out a collective groan when you heard Justin's frantic words following after you. "Y/N, I'm sorry--"
"Fuck off," the four of you said in unison, walking through the open front doors. You settled yourselves into your car, and once you were seated you finally felt your shoulders slump forward, your head thumping against your steering wheel as tears began to roll down your cheeks.
"I'm such a fucking idiot," you said weakly.
"You're not an idiot, babe. Justin's just an asshole and then some," Syd reassured you, rubbing circles on your upper back.
"Hey, why don't we just go over to my place and we can hang by our pool?" Isaac offered, giving you directions to his family's house just a few blocks over. "I can get our projector set up outside and we can watch Twilight?"
"Deal," you said with a sniffle.
"One more thing? That green looks bomb on you," he said, motioning toward your outfit. "You have to wear it more often. We're gonna make it like 'your color'."
That had you feeling a bit lighter, a laugh bubbling up out of you. "I'll make a note of it."
When the bell rang for Mrs. Matthews' class the Monday after that disaster of a party, you were nowhere to be found. Justin's eyes darted around nervously, hoping that your display from Saturday was nothing more than an outburst, and he could apologize.
With the weight of this project being a solid twenty percent of the class's final grade, he needed to get a decent score if he wanted a chance at a grade good enough for talent scouts to consider him for football scholarships in a few years. He couldn't afford to piss you off enough that you would choose to leave him hanging.
He waited as your other classmates filed in slowly, making a point to secure the seat next to him. He even got you a pink rose, following his older brother Joshua's advice on what he could do to seem sorry and get back on your good side. But as the second bell rang for this period, and Mrs. Matthews stood up to close the door, he knew it was safe to assume you'd chosen to not show your face at school today.
"Guess her tail's still stuck between her legs," Rianne hissed, the sound of the metal legs of her chair scraping the floor filling the room, followed by the clickety clack of her heels as she made her way to the seat next to her boyfriend. "Is this seat taken, baby?"
Justin merely gave her a half-hearted shrug, dismissively waving his hand at the empty seat. "Have at it, Ri."
"Oh." The sound of Mrs. Matthew's voice along with the rapid knocking on the door had his attention snap back to the classroom door.
But the teacher opened the door, you didn't walk through it. Sydney did. Folder in hand.
"Miss Howard, I assume you would be the one to know something about Miss Y/L/N's uncharacteristic absence today?" Your friend quietly nodded, and Justin couldn't hear what she was saying as she handed the folder to your teacher. And then followed by a folded up piece of paper.
Sydney then walked out of the classroom, and his head began to pound as Mrs. Matthews unfolded and read through the paper, a satisfied smile slowly stretching across her face. "Mister Vergazo, you will be accomplishing your final research project alone. Miss Y/L/N has turned in her paper."
"Mrs. Matthews, I thought your decisions on research partners were final--"
"Please save your advocating for your boyfriend's plight for someone who can be swayed, Miss Jacobs," the teacher cut Rianne off. "If you wish to help him, perhaps you can write his papers from now on. According to Miss Y/L/N, he seems to be excellent at sending links."
Her cutting judgment at the couple had the rest of the students in the classroom breaking out into laughter. Some of them even backing up your words and going "Ain't that the truth." Some of them even called him some rather biting terms. Freeloader. Leech. Parasite.
His grades were fucked.
"Mrs. Matthews, do you know where I can find Y/N? Talk to her? Come on, this is our final grade she's playing with."
"Your final grade, Mister Vergazo," she emphasized. "Miss Y/L/N has secured her grades. And you will no longer find her in school today. She's tested out."
"Of our year?" Rianne asked, her voice going up an octave from the incredulity.
"Of High School," the teacher clarified, the classroom filling with mixed reactions. Some awestruck. Most shocked. And then Justin felt his blood go cold at her next words. "It seems, Mister Vergazo, that midnight has struck. But she was never a pumpkin. She was a diamond. And it seems that the cruelty she survived at the hands of you and your peers was the fire that forged her."
Rianne let out a haughty scoff at those words. "Puh-lease, she's a loser. Always has been. Always will be."
"Okay you know what, mega cunt?! You're gonna be a has been in three years," Isaac's voice boomed from the back of the class.
"Mister Richards!" The class fell quiet as Mrs. Matthews shouted. "I will not stand for that language in my classroom. Detention!" She reached into her drawer and pulled out a lanyard attached to a clipboard with "SCIENCE" drawn on it.
Isaac was undeterred, walking to the front of the room with a sway of his hips, making a show of presenting his neck as if he were being given a medal.
"Loser," Rianne muttered.
"Ah what the hell, I'm going to detention anyway." He stood up straight and faced the class again, locking eyes with the cheerleader as he jutted out his hip, smacked his jean-clad butt, and gave her a middle finger. "Future washout."
He passed the principal's office on the way to the designated Detention classroom, and was able to catch you as you were on your way out, clenching and unclenching your writing hand. He had no doubt it was sore from having spent the whole morning completing admission forms and answering qualifying exams.
Your mouth fell open when you saw your friend walking towards you, pointing at the "lanyard of shame" around his neck. "What did you do that had Mrs. Matthews give you that?"
"I called Rianne a mega cunt." You let out a borderline witchy cackle at his answer. "So that's it? You're all done with Augustine?"
"Yeah. I'll probably pay y'all a visit in a few years for your graduation. I refuse to miss out on seeing you guys march." He took the lanyard off and held out his arms, and you happily stepped into the embrace. "I'm gonna miss you goofs."
"Oh don't be such a drama queen, we'll see each other on the weekends. And holiday breaks. And in a few years we'll all be at Columbia together." He placed his hands on your shoulders and gave you a reassuring squeeze. "And we'll make sure to video call every few days to make sure you're not just running on Red Bull and burgers. Don't be a stranger, babe."
"I won't, I promise." You could feel your throat close up. You didn't think that you were gonna get emotional finally leaving these cursed halls. "And I'll make sure to take some extra units in a few years if that's what it takes to share a class with y'all again." You motioned your head towards the Detention room. "Now go. Before you get into more trouble."
When you got to your car, you gave the vast campus of Augustine High School one final look, not surprised that you didn't feel particularly sentimental about this part. Other than Syd, Shane, and Isaac, you would miss nothing and no one within the school's gates.
"Good riddance," you muttered as you drove away.
Today
"Jellybean, we're throwing you a party."
Your head snapped up so fast the motion nearly cricked your neck. Tony's announcement was more than enough to break your focus out of the braid you were practicing on Morgan's hair. "The fuck? What for?"
"Teehee…fuck," the small child squeaked beside you, an adorably toothy grin stretched across her face as she looked up at you. "I sound like you, Auntie Y/N."
"Uh uh," Tony quipped, snapping his fingers first Morgan's way, and then towards a jar in the middle of the common room. "Swear jar, little lady. You know better than to repeat your Auntie Y/N's no-no words."
You rolled your eyes at the billionaire, reaching into your pocket and handing your goddaughter a few bills. "No way that's coming out of your allowance, baby." She happily took the bills from your hand, giving you a kiss on the cheek before she skipped towards the swear jar. You addressed her father next, "Party's really not necessary, Tony. Can't you just do that pseudo-knighting schtick you did with Parker?"
"'Course we can." He made his way over to you, touching his hand across your shoulders before making a blessing motion like a priest. "Agent Y/L/N, you're officially an Avenger."
"Thank you."
"First order of business is to have you inducted."
"Press con," you told him. You really didn't want a party.
"Press con with music. And drinks. And food."
"That's a party, Tony," you grumbled. "There's really no need."
"Nonsense, Lady Y/N," Thor's booming voice filled the common area before he even physically stepped into the room. "There is always a good reason to throw a party." He walked toward the pantry with a large wagon stacked high with boxes in tow. "My brother and I have fulfilled our grocery duty for the year, Stark. Remove our names from that wheel of yours now."
You were on your feet the second he mentioned his brother, quickly busying yourself with unloading the wagon so you could avoid interacting with him.
The last thing you needed was the raven haired god sussing out that you had heart eyes for him if he so much as threw a "hello" your way. No good ever came from someone that drop dead gorgeous knowing what kind of effect they had on you.
"Thank you, Point Break. Finally someone who sees reason. Come on, Y/N, it'll be fun. Think of it like having another Prom."
"Didn't go to Prom, Tony," you called out before lifting the first box off the wagon with a loud grunt.
"What the--Why the hell not? Dressed to the nines? Time capsule of what music was 'hip' at the time? Spiking the punch bowl? How could you miss that?"
"Tested out of High School on my sophomore year," you told him, letting out little grunts of frustration when your box cutter's blade kept on snagging on the packaging tape. "Turned out to work in my favor because on what would've been my Prom night, there was a Taylor Swift concert in my town, so I got to see her live and sit in the VIP section back when tickets didn't cost two thousand dollars a pop."
Just then, Shane walked in to the room, shrugging off his lab coat and putting it on the coat hanger before rushing over to where you were standing, looking like he was bursting at the seams to tell you what fresh bit of gossip he'd become privy to. "Babe. Babe babe babe you're never gonna believe this--"
"Wait, before that, tell Tony about Prom. His face is still giving denial."
"What about it?"
"Me at Prom," you clarified.
"Ohh yeah, no. Y/N didn't go, Boss. She got VIP for the Speak Now tour for under two hundred dollars. Lucky bitch."
"Teehee…bitch," Morgan repeated. You didn't even hesitate to reach into your pocket and put down a couple more dollars on the counter for her swear jar.
"Sorry…" your old friend trailed off, grimacing in Tony's direction. "We still wrote in her name for Prom Queen, though."
"Girl, what do you mean 'we'?" You lightly hit his arm with the back of your hand.
"The three of us," he told you. "Plus some other ones that refused to vote for those god awful cheerleaders. Pretty sure you were runner up."
"But like…she doesn't even go here," you said in a goofy voice, mimicing Damien from Mean Girls, which had both him and Stark breaking out into a laugh. "But anyways…what were you gonna say?"
"Ohh, right. Remember Rianne Jacobs?"
The name had you standing up straighter, visibly on edge. "Wish I didn't," you answered him. "What about her?"
"So remember when my husband called her a future washout?" You nodded, prompting him to continue. "Well it looks like she's been struggling to get a job, so she had to humble herself and now guess who's the new receptionist for the receiving area of the Avengers Compound."
"No fucking way," you blurted out, automatically slapping down another couple dollars before Morgan even repeated the words. "But like…isn't receptionist supposed to be an entry level job? For fresh grads? We all graduated about a decade ago, what is she even--"
"Unhand me, you foul human," you heard Loki raise his voice at someone near the Compound's main entrance. His tone had everyone in the room standing ramrod straight and alert.
The last time he spoke like that, he was in Stuttgart and commanding everyone to kneel before him.
He walked into your view, a look of pure revulsion on his face at whoever he was talking to, before his eyes scanned the expanse of the common area. That look of disgust faded and turned into something decidedly more friendly when his gaze reached the kitchen and pantry area where you stood.
"You okay?" you asked him, trying to keep your tone casual. From the corner of your eye, you could see Shane giving you a knowing look, wordlessly teasing you. You kicked at his dress shoes in response.
"I demand words with whosoever hired that disgustingly promiscuous woman at the front desk." He visibly shuddered before walking towards you.
"Let me guess," you quipped, looking over at Shane. "Rianne?"
"Right on the money, honey," he confirmed with a little snap.
"You have the displeasure of knowing that woman, darling?" Loki asked you, lightly touching his fingertips to the inside of your wrist.
"Uhm…yeah," you answered him, your voice coming out in a little squeak. You cleared your throat before speaking again. "Yes, unfortunately. Shane and I, we went to school with her." You tried to subtly move your arm away from his hold, clasping your hands together instead, and you immediately started picking at the sides of your nails. "Anyway uhh…what did she…do exactly that got you ticked? I mean, whatever it is you were probably in the right. She's the absolute worst."
The way your words were tumbling out of you had the god breaking into a soft laugh. "Right. She has no regard for physical boundaries and kept on trying to press herself against me. And she kept insisting on taking your drink."
Your brows scrunched together at his statement. "Uhh--I don't remember…I--" You clamped your lips shut, composing yourself before talking again. "I didn't leave a drink at the front desk."
The god's face broke out into a soft smile, the kind that had your heart doing somersaults, as he stepped closer towards you. Shane took that as a cue to back away. "No, of course. I simply meant that…I brought a drink. For you." That was when you caught sight of the can he was holding in his other hand.
You fought to keep your expression fairly neutral, ultimately failing as your eyes widened and you started smiling ear to ear like you were a lovestruck teenager all over again. "Ohh! Uhm…y-you didn't have to do that. I saw a whole case of them at the bottom of the wagon, it's all good, really."
Unbeknownst to either of you, Morgan walked up to the blond Asgardian, pulling on his pant leg and asking him point blank, "Uncle Barbie, does Prince Loki like Auntie Y/N?" Thor simply nodded at the small child, unable to help but smile as he watched the scene unfold before him. Morgan walked over to Shane next. "And does she like him back?" When he nodded, she held her tiny hands over her mouth and started pitter-pattering her feet on the floor.
"No erm…I know, I placed the case in myself," he clarified. The onlookers all gave each other a knowing look, clearly amused that the god seemed to be equally tongue tied as you. "I just noticed this flavor seemed new and only got the one for you to try. And perhaps if you found it to your liking, we could get more?"
"Ohh…" you squeaked, your smile getting wider. You watched in awe as his hand and forearm turned cobalt blue for a split second and suddenly the can was frosted over. "That's…that's really thoughtful, thank you." When you moved to take the can from him, he gave you a soft smile, holding your forearm with his free hand and then closing his other hand over yours once you were holding the near freezing drink.
"Mister Laufeyson, I'm so sorry about my behavior earlier, maybe we could--" The sound of Rianne's shrill voice broke you out of the moment, and both you and Loki moved to look at her standing at the threshold of the common area. Her face went from lustful to downright loathsome the second she saw how close you two were standing together. And how he held your hand. "What in the flying fuck are you doing here, freak? Pretty sure this area of the compound isn't for staff."
Before anyone could speak up and read her for filth, you snapped at her. "I live here, receptionist," you hissed her way. "And it's Agent Y/L/N to you."
The color left her face and she backed away from the doorway slowly, mumbling an apology you knew she didn't mean. Despite all the time that had passed, that short interaction showed you she never had and never would possess a remorseful bone in her body.
"Okay so maybe I left out a tiny detail earlier…" you trailed off, turning to face the god again. "We didn't just go to school with her, she was my bully. Well, one of my bullies. The main one, really."
Tony made his way over to Morgan's swear jar, already placing a few bills in before reacting. "That raging bitch was your bully? Ohh she's fired." He tapped on his tablet furiously before making a swiping motion as if he was sending something out into the world. "And if she tries to file a complaint for unlawful termination, we've got footage of how she acted around both you and Reindeer Games." He then clapped his hands together and addressed everyone in the room. "But anyway. Party. Two weeks from now. To celebrate Y/N officially becoming an Avenger. And Jellybean, just think of this like a do-over for the Prom you never had."
"Sorry, what is a 'Prom'?" Thor asked, raising his hand into the air.
"It's basically a ball," you answered him, every part of you still acutely aware that to this moment, Loki was still holding your hand. "When we reach a certain age in school, we have one for our whole class. But I qualified to graduate from school before I reached that age, so I never went to my year's Prom."
"A ball, you say?" You turned your head and stifled a gasp, seeing how intently the god of mischief was staring at you, opting to just nod your head at him. "Perhaps we could share a dance, then?"
"Uhh…sure." Your voice grew small again, your breath hitching when he lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles before finally taking a step back from you.
As you went about unloading the wagon, insisting that you could proceed with the task on your own and politely declining Loki's offer of assistance, questions began to bubble up in Thor's mind. He noted how despite the relationships you'd built among the team, you still behaved as if you were alone on your own isolated island.
How whenever his brother would show you even the smallest fraction of his affection for you, you would flinch away. As if you were resisting against accepting even the simple gesture of the prince getting a beverage for you.
How when he offered you his dagger once he saw how your own blade had turned pitifully dull, you hesitated. And moved with great caution, your stance defensive. As if you were bracing for an outburst akin to how his brother reacted to the advances of your childhood tormentor.
And seeing as he had a unique opportunity to gain some insight from the Stark Industries scientist who had known you for a rather sizable portion of you life, he seized it. "Why does Lady Y/N behave like that?" he asked Shane.
"Like what?"
"With my brother," the blond Asgardian clarified. "It is clear to anyone that looks upon them that he carries a great affection for her. And I can see even with her peculiar behavior that she returns his affections. So why does she behave as if she's readying herself to be rejected by him?"
As your old friend recounted your experience at the hands of an insipid boy named Justin from a decade and a half ago, his heart began to hurt. Not just for you, but for his brother as well. He knew of your experience far too well, having to watch Loki go through something similar during their youth back in Asgard.
From multiple individuals. Striking up a friendship, feigning romantic interest -- some even going so far as to turning the false relationship sexual -- all with the intent of leveraging his social status as an Asgardian royal to further their own selfish agendas. Using the younger prince as a stepping stone for their narrow and paltry ambitions.
"When she plays with Morgan, do you ever notice how she practically runs away from playing Cinderella? Short of kicking and screaming?" Thor quietly nodded at Shane's question. "Well that's because that's what Justin called her. Because, and I'm directly quoting from the son of a bitch here, 'the best part about Cinderella is eventually the clock strikes midnight, and she turns back into a pumpkin'. So I'm only gonna tell you this because that girl right there is like a sister to me, and I want her to be happy…having a literal prince pursuing her? She will try to run. Kicking and screaming. Your brother needs to be ready to run after her."
When you were finished unloading and flattening the first box atop the large grocery wagon, the Compound's office manager walked into the common area, relieving you of the task and unwittingly pushing you into continuing your conversation with Loki devoid of any distractions. Shane took that as his cue to announce his departure for the night.
"Okay babe, I'm off. How's about we make a date for this weekend to find you a dress for this party?"
"Fine," you grumbled, giving him a quick hug before he walked out of the common room. "Drive safe, okay?"
"Always," he shot back. "Let's find you something in that dark green you look so good in. Swear to God, babe, that's your color."
You made a "no" motion with your hands. "Not my color, babe. Not anymore. It's his," you said in a rushed tone, motioning your head towards Loki.
He gave you a playful look before disappearing down the hall, blurting out, "I know…".
"Come to think of it, we should all get going," Stark spoke up, lifting his daughter into the air. "I gotta put little Maguna to bed, and two of you have mission briefing in the morning with Rogers. And knowing Capsicle, it's at oh-seven-hundred." He bounced the little girl in his arms. "Say bye bye, Maguna."
"Bye bye Maguna," she repeated with an endearing toothy grin. When she passed by where you and Loki stood, she threw her arms around your neck, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Goodnight, Princess Auntie Y/N."
"Not a princess," you told her, kissing her hair. "Goodnight, baby."
"Not yet," she giggled as her father carried her away.
"May I walk you to your chambers, darling?" Loki offered, presenting you his hand to take. Thor watched fascinated as your hand instinctively raised to accept, but stopped midway. It seemed that urge to "run away kicking and screaming", as Shane mentioned, ran deep inside you.
"Ohh uhm…it's okay, you don't have to," you answered, your voice barely audible even with the god's comparatively more advanced hearing. He gave his brother a look, wordlessly urging him to insist.
"I want to," he pressed, seeming to take his brother's cue. The blond Asgardian watched on with a smile as his brother gently took your hand and you walked out of the common room with him.
It seemed he wouldn't have to coach his brother on how to prove his intention to you. Loki looked more than ready to chase after you regardless. No matter how long it took.
A/N: To say this got away from me is the biggest understatement of the month 😂 And this is only part 1 of 3…
Also if it wasn't that obvious…this is another one of those "vent" pieces that draw from my actual experiences. I am so annoyed to tell y'all that Justin Vergazo and Rianne Jacobs are based on actual people I've had the displeasure of knowing.
Anyways…this was actually enough to get me out of my writing slump (kind of) so I'm gonna see if this is finally the jump I needed to start working on 'relinquish the crown'.
This whole fic had me giddy!! But the Mean Girls and Totally Spies quotes killed me!!! 😂😂
I freaking loved Totally Spies growing up to the point where my dad would scold me because I didn’t pay attention to anything or anyone while it was on 😬😁
It is a LITERAL thousand-year-old myth that once, when a giant stole Mjolnir to force Freya to marry him, Thor somewhat successfully impersonated the goddess of love and beauty (with Loki as his lovely handmaiden full of excuses as to why she ate an entire ox at dinner) and participated in a fake wedding to get it back.
The best thing about this story is that Thor really doesn’t try, at all.
Like he puts on the dress, he keeps his mouth shut, but that is where his contributions to keeping up this ruse end.
Loki is the one who has to come up with an explanation for why the blushing bride has just finished off half the banqueting table and washed it down with four full barrels of mead (“Freyja was so excited for the ceremony, she hasn’t eaten in a week!”) and, when the groom takes a peek under the veil, why she’s glaring at him with such clear murder in her eyes (“she’s er… tired. Like super super tired. Hasn’t slept in a week.”).
Thor barely restrains himself from slaughtering everyone in the room until his hammer comes out, and then he grabs it and uses it to slaughter everyone in the room.
Depending on how you read the scene he’s either genuinely unaware of how women are meant to act (or potentially too Masculine to restrain himself) or he’s just so full of contempt for Loki’s plan that he refuses to put in more than the very bare minimum.
Reblogging for that last addition - I’d never thought of that but now that you mention it I wholeheartedly believe it.
Especially after Thor and Loki proposed that she just marry the giant, she apparently flipped out at them and they immediately had to back off like “okay nope plan B!”
Thor is probably patting himself on the back for portraying Freya’s normal expression so accurately.
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it fucks me up that tolkien only died in 1973. dude has the vibe of a victorian scholar who wrote all his manuscripts by candlelight but then you look him up and realise that he knew what color tv was. what the fuck.
When the current queen of Denmark was young, she made illustrations for his books and sent them to him under a pseudonym. He liked them and they were printed in the Danish version of the book.
Also he strictly forbade Disney from making any sort of cinema of his books.
[source]
Not only did this dude see the moon landing, know what color TV was and hate the Beatles, but he knew Walt Disney was a piece of shit before anyone else, and all because of some dwarves.
In 1937, in communication with American publishers regarding illustrations for The Hobbit -
It might be advisable, rather than lose the American interest, to let the Americans do what seems good to them – as long as it was possible (I should like to add) to veto anything from or influenced by the Disney studios (for all whose works I have a heartfelt loathing).
Tolkien in 1961, being a crunchy parenting advocate, lmao;
God help the children! I would as soon give them crude and vulgar plastic toys. Which of course they will play with, to the ruin of their taste. Terrible presage of the most vulgar elements in Disney.
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