#Volunteer Swearing-In Ceremony

[girlkisser13]

being married to bruce wayne would include

• galas, charities, balls, etc. become more a part of your life than you probably ever wanted them to be.

• once you two officially become a couple, you become gotham’s "it" couple. whether you want to or not.

• in the press, the two of you are often depicted as gotham royalty.

• even before the two of you start dating, you swear you feel someone's presence at night whenever you walk home from work.

• it wasn't until a mugger attempted to steal your purse that you finally learned where that feeling of being watched had been coming from.

• when the dark knight told you to be mindful of your surroundings and to hurry home before swooping away into the night, you could only nod with widened eyes.

• you didn’t say anything until you got home, to be honest, you geeking out: it’s not every day that someone gets to meet "the batman".

• you gleefully call your boyfriend about it. he doesn’t answer it until later, but you can hear a smirk in his voice as he responds to you fangirling.

• eventually, you find out about his identity on accident.

• as expected, you’re a little upset. someone you were romantically involved with was masquerading around town dressed like every night was halloween, getting into dangerous situations.

• after the two of you talk about it, you begin to understand why he does it and while you may not necessarily agree with some of his more controversial methods, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride that he’s putting everything at risk just to make sure what happened to him doesn’t happen to anyone else.

• alfred always reports to you first whenever something happens to bruce, knowing how much he truly means to you.

• you’re the one he listens to the most (even more than alfred) when it comes to what he should be doing whether it be a complicated mission or something as simple as eating a much needed meal.

• most of the time you would find yourself waiting at a restaurant for an hour before he would text you that he can’t make it because he’s being held up.

• when he does show up, he’s late, he looks like a mess, and he greets you with a lop-sided smile and half-lidded eyes. and you melt because you remember that he did choose you and you do love him.

• bruce’s absence is always outweighed by his affection. he loves touching you even if it’s just your shoulders or your fingers or your elbows. he always finds a way to be close to you when you’re together.

• he’s always trying to make up for the lost time with you by getting you expensive gifts and trips, only for you to reassure him that he doesn’t need to do all this.

• you’re always able to tell when he’s had a particularly rough night. his usual silence feels different; heavier.

• he becomes a lot more handsy with you, more affectionate. as if you’re the last flower in a prized garden and he never noticed until now.

• if you’re asleep by the time he gets back, you may get woken up by him caressing your cheek, rubbing a thumb over your hand, or him putting his big arms around you to pull you in close.

• one of your favorite things though is definitely seeing the family. most of the time you see alfred and always try to tease recipes out of him which expertly deflects.

• whenever the bat kids are at the manor, he invites you because they love you and he knows you love them too.

• dick constantly flirts with you and teases you and bruce. you love to play along with him because it makes bruce very uncomfortable.

• he finally proposes to you after three years of the kids telling him to do so. you obviously say yes.

• the two of you decide to have a small, private ceremony at the manor. friends and family only.

• bruce 100% cries as soon as he sees you walk down the aisle in your wedding dress.

• alfred volunteers to be the wedding planner, because he always knew that you would be the future mrs. wayne. <33

[chmpgneprblem]

SNOWFALL OF HEARTS ; CORIOLANUS SNOW

pairing: coriolanus snow x tribute!oc part: one summary: coriolanus is torn between his harsh pursuit of victory and the growing warmth in his heart for erykah, his tribute from district 9 warnings: swearing, ooc coriolanus a/n: really excited for you guys to read this! also this will become a series! word count: 0.8k join taglist!!

Whispers echoed across Heavensbee Hall as Dean Highbottom broke the news to them all. “The Plinth Prize will no longer be determined by who has the best grades.” He paused. “But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games.” 

As the shock settled in, Coriolanus thought to himself, I’m done. His hopes of winning that prize money were gone.

Students started to make comments as Highbottom continued to talk. “Obviously the best mentor will be the one who’s tribute wins the games.” Festus cut him off with a worried chuckle. “Your role is to turn these children into spectacles, Mr. Creed. Not survivors” Highbottom responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Besides, victory in the games is only one of our considerations.” 

As he finished talking, the sound of horns played, signifying that the reaping was starting. “Let the reaping ceremony begin!” Dean Highbottom shouted with a smile as he sat down between Coriolanus and Sejanus.

He started to list off the tributes and the corresponding mentors for them. As he went down the list, Coriolanus prayed to himself that he got somebody good. His thoughts were cut off as he heard his name.

“District 9. Boy, Gaius Breen. Girl, Coriolanus Snow.”

Erykah Thorpe stood at the front of the rows at the yearly reaping. It’s fine, she thought to herself, It’s my last year of this. It was the last year for her, however it was her sister’s first. She’s only in there once.. There’s nothing to worry about. 

“Magnolia Thorpe!” The mayor called her sister’s name as he held the small strip of paper in his hand. Throwing it to the ground moments after reading it.

No, no, this isn’t real. She thought to herself but she was snapped back into reality as she saw her sister walking past her.

“No! Take me! Take me instead!” She yelled at the mayor practically begging for him to allow her. “Are you saying you volunteer?” He asks with a confused yet delighted look on his face. “Yes.. I volunteer as tribute.” Her voice cracked as she held back tears, lifting her chin higher and moving a strand of hair out of her face.

He whispered to one of the peacekeepers, she assumed to ask if that was allowed. “Well come on up here!” He exclaimed with a smile, waving his arm forward.

She walked onto the stage, making sure to not look at her sister despite her thrashing in the peacekeeper’s arms. “Erykah please don’t go!” Her sister screamed while getting pulled away. Erykah still didn’t look at her.

“What a cold hearted bitch” Coriolanus heard from behind him as the rest of the students whispered about her. “What the hell is she doing”, “She’s choosing to be in there?” He tried to ignore them as he kept watching her.

“Well what’s your name girl?” The mayor asked her, smiling widely as he talked. “Erykah Thorpe” She said, staring directly into the camera as she spoke. “Well I would bet that was your sister you just volunteered for!” He continued to speak with that annoying, overjoyed smile. She didn’t respond this time, just kept looking into the camera with her jaw clenched. 

Despite the situation she was in, Coriolanus couldn’t help but admire her beauty as she looked at the camera. She had long dark brown curly hair, slightly bushy eyebrows that accentuated her hooded eyes which were the same color as her hair, light freckles all across her face and plump pink lips that were slightly pouting at the moment.

Now that he was looking closer at her, he noticed what she was wearing. An off white dress that came down a little past her knees, nothing much different than the rest of the crowd. That was until he noticed the faded rainbow of roses and vines embroidered into the chest of her dress.

Her looks and outfit were much different than the angry expression she had on her face, which was now directed at someone in the front of the crowd.

The camera angle was changed to a wide shot. She and Panlo, the male tribute of district nine, were about to be escorted off the stage. Before they were pulled off, she dipped herself into a deep exaggerated bow and mouthed the words “Fuck you” to that same person in the front row, who Coriolanus could now identify as the mayor’s son.

That was the final straw for the peacekeepers. Who were pulling her out of the bow, as she repeated herself to the boy in a yell. Panlo and another peacekeeper followed shortly behind her as they went back to where the train would soon take them to the Capitol.

Coriolanus didn’t know how to feel about his tribute. He thought about her as they went through the rest of the tributes. Clemensia snapped him out of his thoughts. “You’ve got an interesting one, Coryo.” She whispered to him with a smirk.

[girlactionfigure]

Meet Anan. An 18-year-old Arab Muslim Israeli, and during the war he decided that he volunteered for the army and wanted to be a fighter in the IDF. He enlisted in the Nahal and last Friday at the swearing-in ceremony in Jerusalem, he swore on the Koran to dedicate his life to the defense of the homeland. Good luck Anan, take care. We are all proud of you!

תכירו את ענאן. ערבי מוסלמי ישראלי בן 18, ובזמן המלחמה הוא החליט שהוא מתנדב לצבא ורוצה להיות לוחם בצה"ל. הוא התגייס לנח"ל וביום שישי האחרון בהשבעה בירושלים, נשבע על הקוראן להקדיש את חייו להגנת המולדת.

בהצלחה ענאן, שמור על עצמך. כולנו גאים בך!

[mask-of-prime]

VG: Something in the Water - PART 1

One month into Simba’s Reign… In the long-abandoned Lion Guard Lair, Rafiki was refining an old painting of his just before being called over by Simba for a very important ceremony. In the rush to get ready, he had forgotten his Bakora Staff, and therefore without the pigment he needed for the ritual.

The rattling sound of the gourds roused a certain toddler’s attention.

The toddler, along with her brothers, mother, and close pridesisters, had been residing in the space as an exclusive hideout ever since Scar's Reign. It had been and idea of her mother's as a way to feel superior to the lionesses who resided in the main den above.

Vitani squirmed and mewed nonstop in the arms of a younger Zira. Zira, deep in a talk with a fellow close lioness of hers, ignored the infant cub's mews for a good while. Eventually, Zira gave into Vitani's squirms, and let her free. If it meant Vitani would stop disrupting her important conversation...

The toddler waddled over towards the wall. Not knowing her small size, Vitani tried to reach for the pretty gourds with her paw, but missed. Instead, the entire staff slid down the wall.

Suddenly, something on the wall began to glow. Vitani looked to see that the painting on the wall had come to life.

The animation showed four creatures flying away from a roaring creature. The roaring creature seemed to resemble someone she vaguely remembered. A scary lion who was unsettlingly quiet, or frighteningly loud. The lion that Mother said was gone, now.

The toddler watched the pretty moving painting play over and over again in absolute awe, babbling in entertainment.

Vitani’s vocalizations got Zira’s attention. The mother looked up to see her daughter watching Scar lose his Roar, over and over again.

Taking offense to the visual of one of Scar’s humiliating failures that Rafiki dared depict, Zira pulled her cub away. She would not let her children watch these lies. She ripped Vitani away from her focus, grabbing her by the scruff, with just enough room in her mouth to still be able to speak.

"Put me back..." Vitani quietly and feebly protested, a slight speech impediment from few teeth growing in.

"We don't go over there." she deadpans, "We don't look at that monkey's propaganda..." ____

24 lion years later, present day... Zira's words echoed in Vitani's mind was lost in thought, staring into Rafiki's cave paintings. She had looked the frescoes of Scar's loss of the Roar many times before, swearing every time that she had seen them much longer ago, long before volunteering to lead her very own Guard.

She gave this painting in particular another look today due to a dream featuring the image, a dream she'd jolted awake from. Last night, her subconscious had given her more clarity on this mystery: She must've seen it before...

She sighed, still not quite knowing. Hearing Zira's voice for the first time in a year after her passing viscerally stuck with Vitani the past few hours she'd been up. She was awake hours before the rest of the Pride, admittedly rather shaken up from the ordeal.

Thunder roared outside the cave, drawing Vitani's attention away from the wall. She sighed again and promptly made her way out into the pouring rain. ____

Hours later, Tiifu hummed as she made feline stretches, hoping to spot a heavily sleeping Vitani next to her.

No luck. Again...

Tiifu huffed, perplexed. Vitani had been getting up early for weeks, now. Instances of this had been happening since the recent enemy of the Pridelands, Ngurumo, lost his life in a fatal fall. This time Vitani was gone.

Looking all around the Ponya, then the remaining sections of the Lair -- careful not to wake the rest of the Guard -- Tiifu went up Pride Rock and searched the Royal Den, until she spotted Vitani outside on the lintel. She was soaking wet and seemingly in a daze. She also seemed to be talking skyward, as if in full conversation with someone.

"Vitani..." Tiifu called.

The Fiercest heard her, but she took a long time to turn around, struggling to get out of her trance.

"What are you doing...?" the spotted lioness scrunched her face.

"I don't know, really, just... wonder if she's out there..." Vitani trailed off, "Ridiculous, I know. But... I sometimes wonder if she's trying to talk to me..."

"...Who?"

"My mother."

"Oh..." Tiifu looked at her love, "Have you ever done this before? Talking to her? Do you know if she might even be up there?"

Tiifu bit her lip awkwardly, she wasn't trying to say Zira didn't belong in the stars and the clouds, but what she got to know about Vitani's mother, the little time they had coexisting in one place, chances looked pretty slim. She didn't like Zira, from what she saw from her. But she knew Vitani lived with her, and likely knew more about her, being her child.

"Wouldn't hurt to try, I guess..." Vitani stared onward.

"You know, I didn't think you'd be one to really talk to the sky, I never see you do it. Usually a leader can talk to the Lions of the Past if they have the Roar..."

Oh, she had no idea. Vitani thought to herself. She hadn't yet told anyone she did have an advisor in the form of Nuka. She feared revealing sacred knowledge would revoke her privilege to speak to spirits -- let alone one of fire who's in purgatory. But she internally digressed, and suddenly shrugged.

"I don't know," she answered aloud to Tiifu, "It just feels like she's here every time it rains. Like she's fighting for revenge, even in death..."

"Vitani, you lost her in the rain. This time of year, too. Rain is thought to bring back pain from old injuries, y'know... Maybe it's doing that to you, but like, emotional pain."

"It has been a year, hasn't it?"

"Think so. I remember the trees losing their leaves like this, and the air smelling kinda moldy, too."

"But it hasn't rained this much. This is weird." Vitani fretted, "Hasn't stopped since I made that raincloud to put out those fires..."

"I mean, the Pridelands hasn't got a good rain like this for years, not even when Simba was king. What's wrong with quenching the earth a little with your Roar?"

"Well, this might be too much rain. As much as I like the rain, I'm starting to see why Kion never made the clouds do that again out of fear of breaking the Circle of Life. Sinkholes, mudslides, and mosquito overpopulations have been crazier than they need to be."

Tiifu was blown away. In all this time she knew Vitani, she remembered a time when she saw the leader treat non-lion animals as something other than alive, but now she spoke like Kion, with regard over the Circle of Life, something she almost never talked about. Vitani was growing, and Tiifu could see it.

The spotted lioness brushed her cheek on Vitani's shoulder, "All storms eventually have to pass, Vitani. I'm sure it'll stop soon."

She wasn't only referring to the literal weather, but Vitani's mood.

Vitani sighed, "We'll see..."

"...and while the storm is still going, we should head inside. Might catch something out here."

Vitani gave the clouds one last glance as she turned to follow Tiifu.  ____

The pride had spent yet another night cooped up in the den.

Vitani stealthily padded her way through the Lion Guard Lair. Sporting a subtly energetic demeanor. She entered the Ponya and happened upon a curled up Tiifu. She lightly tapped her arm and head.

"Tiifu."

Stirring, the straw-colored lioness groggily awakened, only to have a boost of energy shoot right through her as she was jumpscared by Vitani staring directly at her, their faces close together.

"The rain stopped."

...

Tiifu followed Vitani's lead out the den, the latter seemed unable to contain an eager smile. Tiifu gasped at what she saw.

"A rainbow! Oh, how pretty!"

Vitani smiled all the way, happy to please Tiifu with the things she loved. She knew Tiifu was all about beautiful mornings, vivid cloud colors, things like that.

The two found a ledge on the side of Pride Rock to sit and gaze at the rainbow on the other side of the sunrise.

"Didn't know these happened after rain. I've heard about them, but I've never actually seen them."

"Really?" Tiifu looked up at her.

"Didn't rain much in the Outlands. There's like, always an awful drought there."

Tiifu nodded. Vitani never saw much hope in dark times, if she's never seen a rainbow...

She then pressed her head against Vitani's neck, "There's a rainbow at the end of every storm, Vitani..."

Tiifu, again, meant more than what literally happened before them. Vitani admittedly took a bit, but it eventually dawned on her.

Out of nowhere, feeling a sudden urge to express affection, Tiifu began to groom Vitani’s jaw. Vitani still hadn’t gotten used to the sensation of grooming, at least, nothing as gentle and organized like Tiifu’s. Tiifu did not form a wall around Vitani, nor press down on her. There was pressure in her licks, but in a massaging manner, and she seemed to be careful not to let her comb-like hairs in deep enough to scratch Vitani's skin. Vitani never truly groomed for years since no one had ever reminded her to do so, growing up in a conquest-oriented pride, and the only kind she ever knew was a tedious burden to endure. Her fur only started looking cleaner and feeling less dry and itchy once the Pridelander lionesses were all over her. It's like they had some sort of radar when someone had the slightest case of bedhead. But, anywho, it was time to tilt her head a little. Tiifu needed to reach the other side of her neck.

They continued to gaze at the rainbow until it faded along with the moisture in the air. Vitani squeezed her eyes shut, feeling total security with Tiifu.

...

Throughout the remainder of the day, excited buzzing made its way throughout Pride Rock. Talks of Kiara and Kovu's coronation made a return, now that things seemed to be drying up for good. The imminent arrival of some valued guests could not be more perfectly-timed...

Vitani slept better that night. ____

Meanwhile, at Msingi Falls... A ghastly glow illuminated the steadily-flowing river. The flow was suddenly disrupted, spinning into a small whirlpool. The riverwater seemed to defy physics as drops at the epicenter of the whirlpool began to rise. Humming filled the air, turning into a cadence sung in a siren-like matter.

A nearby animal -- a lone buffalo -- had picked up on the enticing noise, breaking its grazing. He found himself staring off absentmindedly as he felt himself being pulled to the source of the singing.

A drink sounded nice. Yes, in this beautiful pool of water... 

Before the poor bovine knew it, a strong wave forcefully pulled him in. He could've sworn it looked like a large paw of a lion.

The last sounds he made were prolonged, suffering moos as he tried to pull away. The water soon stopped bubbling. ____

((Author's Note: Celebrating Wet Beast Wednesday with some Wet Beasts in the form of a sulking Vitani and Tiifu lol. Also age reveal for Vitani 👏. I headcanon her to be the equivalent of a 24-year-old in the post-TLK 2 timeline. As for other characters, like Tiifu, Zuri, and Kiara, they're, like, 21 or so.

Fun Facts:

Many poses and compositions were considered for the first and second thumbnails, I'll post the unfinished sketches/unused assets at another time.

I would like to make future art/name reveals of Zira's closest followers. Another thing I'll post some other time.

I learned about the word "lintel" in my Ancient-to-Medieval art history class. A stonehenge, for example, is comprised of a arch system of posts and lintels, the posts being the vertical reinforcement while the lintel is the horizontal stone topping the structure. Come to think of it, Pride Rock is reminiscent of a megalithic structure since it seems to posses posts and lintels.

I headcanon Tiifu to be a master of metaphors, you're gonna see this a lot this season.

Vitani staring right into Tiifu's face after waking her up is very much based on a cat owner experience lol

IMPORTANT: If you see a change in the storytelling style, like full, proper fanfics or simple, short descriptions contextualizing the art between uploads, it's because I've thought long and hard about how I want to present VG. After an epiphany, I've come to terms that I'm not some corporate animation studio who pushes out full episodes of a show I desperately want to see exist, I originally made VG to jot down concepts of what I wanted to see, and I realize now that I work better when I draw concepts sporadically rather than gradually, slowly telling a suspenseful story in order. I realized this when I've been looking back and realizing how much I wanted to add to the story after releasing art. If you see me going out-of-order with my art at any point, it's because I'm adding bonus content. Yes there will still be a continuous main story and there's a subfolder for that, but there'll be extra sketches made randomly, which has its own subfolder. Lastly, I'm actually fiddling with the idea of maybe releasing art and concepts, and then releasing full fanfics on Ao3 or FF.net or something. But... I'm not a big writer so again, just fiddling with that idea for now 😅

EDIT: Extended the literature for the first and third illustrations/scenes))

[xinnamonbun]

Payjay Wedding! :3

@pencilgutz here's your fooooood :3

This was genuinely SO fun to draw. At first I was obsessed with trying to make this really polished since I was kinda making it as a gift- but around halfway through I kind of realized that I was having a blast just...doodling! So the end product ended up being a bit messy, but I think it ended up making it look more different. I'm not even going to lie the lack of people in the chairs was genuinely laziness on my part. But you can just say that this is a wedding photo that was taken after the ceremony.

Alts!

Some headcannon stuff for the wedding below the cut!

Venue stuff:

Genuinely, I think it would be hilarious if all of this happened right behind the hotel- just getting married right outside your house. TBH it would also be a pretty good excuse for most of the Inanimate Insanity contestants to come.

Roles?:

Grooms: Paper and OJ (duh)

Best man: Knife (paper)

Maid of Honor: Soap (oj)

Ring bearer: Cherries

Flower girl: Yang (he volunteered)

Groomsmen: Pickel, Bomb, Baseball, Silver Spoon

Groomsmaids: Candle, Taco (if post show) (idk who else-)

Groomsmate(s): Paintbrush

Photographer: Trophy

Caterer: Suitcase and Balloon (I love you guys but I swear; FLOUR NOT FLOWER-)

Drama (at this point it's like a mandatory thing at weddings): Salt. SALT.

After-party:

Knife and Baseball have to drag Salt out for wearing white (among other things). Test Tube catches the bouquet. She wasn't even trying to it just landed on her. You can decide if Suitcase and Balloon ACTUALLY make the cake properly.

[alaydabug2]

Tag list: @sparklenarniawizard @imobsessed123 @thoughtlescat @ilikebookssomuch

Broken Heart/Broken Mind

Chapter Thirty-nine

(Human AU)

Sophie and Keefe met in the children's hospital when they were little. Because of how long they were confined to the four walls of the hospital, they became very close during their stay.

As the years pass, they wind up being in the same classroom together due to their physical conditions. This makes their bond deepen.

But are they able to handle when life gets tough, throwing problems and complications their way?

(Play when queued)

The hair stylist was getting finished curling Sophie's hair. She had T minus forty-five minutes before having to get in place for the ceremony.

Having to get makeup done made her twitchy. Thankfully, she was able to choose a more natural look. It made things fo by quicker.

By the time all of that was done, it was her turn to head down the aisle. She hooked her arm with Keefe, and they walked to the end of the aisle, seperating to stand on opposite ends of the alter.

Soon, Ro and Cassius were making their way down to the altar. Ro's lips were spread into a tight smile. Cassius just had his nose upturned, looking as snobby as ever. When they had to go their separate ways, he placed a kiss on her cheek and went to sit down.

Sophie tried to stay serious, but it was quite difficult. She wondered how many guests there knew the truth about their marriage.

It went perfectly fine until the vows. Just behind Bo, Sophie was able to see Keefe snickering. She shot him a look. But when Ro and Bo went to kiss, he looked like he was about to bust a blood vessel. He was biting his lip so hard Sophie could've sworn she saw blood.

Sophie made a cut it out sign at him. When people started cheering, he let it out, doubling over. Everyone's celebrations drowned out the sound of his laughter.

Sophie could see him crying as he tried to pull himself together with the crowd quieting. Still, he was shaking with the held in mirth.

At the reception, she sat with Keefe at the table with his parents. Ro and Bo were sitting at the table beside them.

Different people were going up to volunteer for speeches. Eventually, when the last person did their speech, one last call was made.

When Keefe got up everyone at the two tables, Sophie included, groaned. It was not going to end well. He snickered as he took the microphone.

Ro leaned into Sophie's ear. "I swear, if that little twerp does anything to embarrass me-"

She was cut off by Keefe speaking. "My dear sister and new brother-in-law law. I wish you two a very happy marriage." His smirk was downright gleeful. "I hope I will get many, many, many nieces and nephews in the future. I know that your love runs deep and will never run dry."

"I'm gonna kill him," Ro decided.

He continued, "I know you two had to hide your love for far too long. I am extremely happy that you don't have to hide it anymore. I know you will have many years of joy and happiness ahead of you."

Ro turned to her parents. "Can I kill him once he gets off the stage?"

"You're an adult," is all Giselle said.

Once Keefe finished his speech, he came back to sit at the table. Ro turned to him.

"I am going to strangle you!"

He batted his lashes. "What do you mean? I'm just congratulating you and your new hubby."

"Don't you ever repeat that sentence again."

Bo finally joined in the conversation. "How do you put up with him? And does that mean I have to now as well?"

Ro pinched the bridge of her nose. "I just do. And we're bonded by law now, pal! You have to suffer just as much as I do!"

"Awww," Keefe cooed. "Marrital bonding! How sweet."

"Don't be surprised if you don't wake up tomorrow." She turned to Sophie. "How do you date him."

Sophie shrugged. "He's sweet."

"And annoying."

"Oh, he's definitely that. It's about 50/50."

Keefe feigned hurt. "You wound me, Foster."

"That's nice," she said.

Bo snorted. "I like this girl."

After a little while longer, Ro and Bo went to cut the cake. Sophie and Keefe carried out their own conversations. Sophie noticed that he was doodling away on a napkin with a pen. It was of the archway during the ceremony with tons of flowers and vines on it.

"That's really good!" She told him.

He shrugged. "It's just a sketch."

'Just a sketch' was an understatement. It was highly detailed and very impressive. Still, his father sneered at him.

"What did I tell you about those stupid drawings?" He scoffed.

Keefe wilted in his father's gaze. "Sorry," he mumbled.

He crumpled up the napkin, stuffing it in his pocket. Sophie opened her mouth to say something, but Keefe shook his head. "It's fine, Foster. It's not a big deal."

Although it did look like it was a bit deal. He had gone quiet and slouched into himself.

He cringed when Cassius went off on him. "Seriously, Keefe. Can't you just be serious for once in your life. It's not that hard! You were being an idgit during the ceremony. Don't you realize how important it is that this makes the family look good?"

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't good enough! Can you not do anything right?"

"Dad," Keefe interrupted. He glanced around at people staring. "You're making a scene."

"I'm making a scene?" He asked."I'm making a scene!? You're the one acting a fool! How brainless can you be?"

"I don't know," he mumbled.

He rolled his eyes. "We're you dropped on your head as a baby or something?"

Keefe glared. "No. Probably has something more to do with the fact of how little oxygen I had. That could do some brain damage."

Cassius's glare turned to ice. "Getting mouthy with me, boy? Just you wait until we get home."

His eyes went wide, and he just nodded. Sophie saw enough. She took his hand, leading him away to a different table to sit at. He didn't say much as Ro and Bo had their first dance.

"You alright?" She murmured.

"It's fine."

Sophie leaned in and kissed his forehead. He leaned his head on her shoulder.

She wanted to get him out of his funk, so when people started to go out onto the dance floor, she drug him out.

(Play song)

He started getting into it when one song started to play. He smiled at her and took her hand to spin her around. Sophie laughed. She laid her head on his chest as he took her hands.

He slowly started to relax as they danced with each other. He rested his chin on her head, kissing the top of her hair.

As they swayed to the music, Keefe eventually said, "That dress looks good on you."

Sophie blushed. "Thank you." She looked up. "That suit looks good on you too."

She saw his cheeks turn pink as he shifted his gaze away. "Thanks."

Ro came up to them. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the kids who have more chemistry than me and my own husband." She chuckled, but her expression turned more serious when her eyes settled on Keefe. "We're mom and dad giving you a hard time?"

Keefe looked down and nodded.

She glanced toward their parents. Cassius was sitting in silence. Gisellewas downing what had to be her sixth glass of wine, obviously tipsy. "I'll talk to them. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks," he mumbled. Ro started to walk over to the table.

"Hey," Sophie murmured, looking into his eyes. "Just forget about it. We're supposed to be having a good time, right? Ro said she's taking care of it. Let's just have fun for now while we can, ok?"

He nodded, spinning her around in agreement, ending it off in a dip.

Keefe took in a breath, "Hey, Sophie?"

"Yes?"

"I..." He trailed off. "You know what, it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Oh, ok then."

"Just..." He leaned down and kissed her. "I'm glad you're in my life."

She smiled. "Me too."

[rinwritesfics]

The Wedding - Part 1

Plot: You’ve been invited to the wedding of the millennia, but as a senator it is determined that you need an escort. Fox offers to be your plus-one to keep you safe.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1013

Author’s Note: I contemplated making this part three words shorter, but removing words from Fox feels like a crime. Special thanks to my partner for the massive help with this one.

Part 1

“Senator, if I may speak freely,” said Commander Fox, his voice modulated by his helmet. He walked up behind you as you stared into the full-size mirror in your office, but didn’t get very close.

“Only if it’s constructive criticism,” you sighed, struggling to affix a ceremonial piece to your attire as you looked into the mirror. As the planetary representative, you had certain expectations thrust upon you for the wedding you were going to. Not to mention your ancestry. “Because if you plan to swear me out of this, I must insist you don’t.”

He cocked his head, then straightened and took the helmet off. His handsome face that harbored a couple scars and a smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose came into view and you had to steel yourself. No matter how many soldiers showed their faces, each one was similar, but different. And Commander Fox’s sure took your attention quicker than anyone else’s, especially with his salt-and-pepper curly hair on top, standing out from the short sides and back.

“I don’t believe this is a safe decision. You are safer staying back and viewing this event rather than showing up.”

“And if I do that, then what kind of senator am I? This is the royal marriage. My people have been waiting on this for a decade. I am no more important than our leaders. These two families are joining and uniting my planet again, and for once, they like each other. We almost fell into war and got knocked out of the Republic. I’m not hiding away while my planet shows we are still deserving to have this seat at the table. This is an expectation of both my station and of my family name.”

You turned around, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “How did you find out, anyway? Does everyone know I’m leaving for this wedding?”

The Commander nodded and you scoffed, then said, “In a building where many things are a secret, there are suspiciously few secrets around here.”

Commander Fox blinked, trying to hold back a smile, then shrugged. “Are you taking a plus-one we need to be worried about?”

You made a face. “No, Commander.”

He stood at attention. “Then I will be there with you.”

You raised your eyebrow, then broke into a laugh. “You certainly will not.”

“The other senators will insist one of us must go with you.”

“I’ll be fine! There’s nothing to be concerned about! There will be plenty of security there as it is!”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”

“Ha! And what will happen when you are recognized? Or any of the others?”

He stopped, brow furrowing in thought.

“Exactly. I will be fine. I may get a little tipsy from the bubbly if I’m having too much fun, but I’ll be fine.”

. . .

Fuming. That’s what you were. You were positively fuming the next day. “I don’t need an escort!” you exclaimed, eyes wide in frustration.

“I’m afraid we must insist, Senator,” said the Supreme Chancellor. “It is for your own safety, and the safety and strength of the Republic.”

“And what if he is needed here? How is it so important to send the head of the Coruscant Guard? He doesn’t need to babysit me!”

“It’s not babysitting. Do you have a problem with the Commander?”

“Again, I reiterate he is the leader of the Guard, and in the position of leadership it would be inappropriate for him to attend.”

“In the position of leadership, it is also up to him to decide which jobs require the most discretion and how to carry them out. His men are capable of working while he is gone, and he himself has volunteered.”

Your mouth closed into a firm line.

“Any other concerns?”

You grumbled, “I formally withdraw my complaint.”

The Supreme Chancellor clapped his hands once, far too gleeful not to be up to something. “Excellent! Have a wonderful time!”

He then left you with Fox, who was still in full kit and had his hands behind his back.

You sighed. “I’m definitely going to need to have a little extra alcohol in my system for this.”

. . .

You straightened out your travel attire once more and awaited Fox’s arrival at your senate apartment. The thought of slipping away had occurred to you, but the likelihood of you getting far was about as close to zero as you could get. In fact, you had been halfway through planning your attempt when you realized it was impossible unless you were a Jedi – or part of the Guard.

The door chime startles you from your thoughts and you allow them entry. Your breath catches.

Fox was in a nice suit. It wasn’t a formal suit, but it was definitely a Coruscanti leisure suit. And he looked damn good as the suit fitted perfectly at his shoulders.

You cleared your throat, attempting to hide your thoughts. “And here I was expecting you to be in your usual armor.”

He shrugged. “Easier to blend in without it. Shall we, Senator?”

You picked up your two bags and nodded. “We shall.”

He escorted you to the landing pad, his eyes darting around for threats and at the same time pointedly not making eye contact with the rest of the Guard. A part of you, the nosy part, would have given anything to know what they were thinking. The rest of your thoughts had an idea what it might be, knowing how professional the commander was. And you didn’t want to make the commander uncomfortable. He deserved better than that.

As he allowed you to step up the ramp first, you turned to him and said, “Last chance to not get stuck at a party with stuffy people.”

A slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips for the first time and he said, “Can’t get rid of me that easily, Senator.”

You grinned. “Figured I would offer, Commander.”

He stepped onto the ship after you and the ramp closed. There was no turning back now.

Part 2/Part 3/Part 4

Taglist for this: @fakegingerr, @liana-07 (I didn't forget!)

[itwasthisorthemilitary]

April 17, 2024

Swear-In ceremony. Don’t feel like writing tonight, last night with the volunteers. Tomorrow we’re off

[kazoosandfannypacks]

Every Crappy Morning by kazoosandfannypacks

Pairing: Captain Swan Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 1K words Summary: When Emma and Killian find themselves running late for Regina's coronation, Emma's surprised by her husband's calm demeanor. Author’s notes: This one's a bit of a missing moment from the season 7 finale. I hope you like it! Taglist: @zahara @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @booksteaandtoomuchtv @jrob64 @tiganasummertree @anmylica @teamhook @undercaffinatednightmare @gingerchangeling @lonelyspectator @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @cs-rylie @silver-the-phoenix @pawshapedheart  [if you’d like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

Also on Ao3!

 This morning wasn't quite going like Emma had planned. She'd planned on getting herself and her family up early, getting to Regina's coronation early to greet the guests in attendance- give them a chance to dote on the new royal baby before the ceremony started.

 But the problem with schedules and plans is that newborns rarely stick to them. Sometimes they end up keeping you and your husband up until three in the morning, giving you a late- and groggy- start to your morning.

 And as soon as they did get up that morning, later than they would've liked, they got changed and had a quick breakfast.

 "I think we can at least make it in time for the coronation," Emma said, picking up her daughter, "not as early as I'd've liked, but I'm sure they'll understand."

 "Aye," Killian said, putting an arm around Emma, "how's our little princess doing?"

 Before Emma could answer, Hope volunteered a response of her own. Unfortunately, Hope's response was to spit up all over herself and her mother.

 "Great," Emma thought, swearing under her breath as she looked at the stain on her dress- a dress her mom had made a huge deal about, one that they'd spent three afternoons with a seamstress making sure was perfect for the coronation, one that was now ruined.

 "Regina didn't happen to teach you a 'vomit stain removal spell,' love, did she?" Killian asked, taking Hope from her arms.

 "No," Emma snapped, a little annoyed with her husband's attempt at humor, "I've gotta change."

 "I'll get her cleaned up," Killian said.

 "Alright," Emma sighed.

 She ran upstairs to change, racking her brain to figure out what dresses she had that she could wear for a coronation. Mary Margaret had said she could dress however she wanted, that it was an event to celebrate the United Realms, and the real world was one of those realms. But Emma knew how important it was to her family that she at least try to dress the part- and deep down, she enjoyed the ballgowns, at least a little.

 Begrudgingly, she pulled a dress out of the closet. Unlike the former dress, it wasn't the latest in style in the Enchanted Forest- it had been years since it was in style in this realm- but it was better than nothing, and at the very least, this one was pink and shiny. She quickly changed, then looked in the mirror, still thinking she was missing something.

 Emma noticed her red leather jacket, hanging on the back of a chair. She threw it on over the dress, half jokingly, and looked again in the mirror- and though it didn't quite go with it, with the way her morning had been going, she felt a little more comfortable once she'd slid her arms into her familiar armor's sleeves.

 "This'll have to do," Emma thought, "we're late enough as is."

 She grabbed her phone on the way out the door and sent her mom a quick text, explaining that they were running late but were on the way.

 When she got downstairs, she found Killian, having cleaned up Hope and wrapped her in a fresh blanket, now rocking her gently and humming a lullaby.

 "Ready to go, love?" Killian asked, looking up at Emma and smiling.

 "I think so." Emma said, "how do I look?"

 "Beautiful as ever, Swan" Killian smiled, as if the mere opportunity to compliment Emma was a delight to him.

 "Then let's get going," Emma said, "we're already late enough as is."

 They hurried out of the house, Killian carefully buckling Hope into her carseat as Emma set the diaper bag in the opposite seat, then opened the driver's side door.

 "I'll drive," Emma said, "we're already running late."

 "Are you saying I'm a bad driver?" Killian asked, already willingly taking the passenger seat.

 "You're a great driver," Emma said, "you're just a little more… careful."

 "One does not drive fast and take chances when hauling precious cargo, love," Killian said, "and there's nothing in all the realms more precious than you and our daughter."

 "Alright, Captain," Emma rolled her eyes, knowing it wasn't gonna hurt anyone to drive five miles over the speed limit- or the ten miles over it she'd have to go to make it to the coronation on time.

 "I still can't believe we're so late," Emma thought, knowing it would be a close call to get to the Enchanted Forest before the ceremony started, "I could've magicked us there, but it's not good to teleport with a child. I hope we get there before Regina does, and that no one bats an eye that we're a little late. It'll be alright, I'm sure."

 She glanced over at Killian and noticed that he didn't seem nearly as stressed as she was- in fact, that he was smiling at her, smiling the way he did when he clearly had something on his mind.

 "What?" Emma asked, glancing at him with a smile to mask her state of exasperation.

 "Your dress," Killian smiled, "you wore that color on our first date."

 "Our first date?" Emma asked, "Killian, that was years ago."

 "And?"

 "I don't know," Emma shrugged, "I just didn't expect you to remember.…"

 "How could I forget?" Killian asked, "it was a moment spent with you- and every one of those is a treasure."

 Emma smiled a little, and tried to coyly hide her insecurities behind humor, "even this morning, when I was a frantic mess covered in baby spit?"

 "You mean when you almost managed to get us out the door on time, despite being up all night with a crying child?" Killian asked, "and when I looked up at you and saw you, my princess, my wife- and our daughter, our little princess- and I thought to myself, 'Killian, how did you get so lucky, to get to call such a rare treasure yours?' And when we got to spend another moment longer together, with just each other and our daughter, because of that 'frantic mess and baby spit?'"

 Emma couldn't hide her flustered smile.

 "So what you're saying is," Emma asked, "that even though this morning was crappy, you treasure it because it was spent with me?"

 "Aye," Killian smiled.

 Emma couldn't remember anyone in her life who'd ever made her feel this treasured.

 "Ya know what," Emma said, "this morning started with your groggy 'good morning' and sleepy smile. When our little princess caused a little mess, you were right there to help take care of it. You've been so great this morning, and always. I don't know what I'd do without you."

 "Nor I without you, love," Killian said. He placed his hand on Emma's shoulder, "I want to spend every 'crappy morning' with you."

 Emma glanced over at him and smiled, reflecting a hint of his own smile back into his blue eyes. "I want to spend every crappy morning with you too."

[swan-of-sunrise]

A Spellbinding Wedding (Spellbinding-Verse Interlude)

Summary: (Y/N) and Loki’s big day has finally arrived, but will mischief and superhero shenanigans succeed in derailing the happiest day of their lives?

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 10.9k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Almost 11k words of pure, tooth-rotting fluff lol

A/N: We’ve finally arrived at the wedding of Loki and the Cosmic Sorceress! If you haven't already, I recommend checking out the Spellbinding Playlist; I added a bunch of wedding/romantic songs I imagine they'd choose for their special day and they're all great, so go ahead and give it a listen!Thank you all so much for reading and for waiting like six months for this thing lol, and I hope that you enjoy!

A Spellbinding Wedding October 8th, 2016 Stark Mansion New York City, New York (Previous One-Shot)

“So, (Y/L/N), in just a few short hours you’re gonna be officially – pause for dramatic effect – off the market! Can you tell us what exactly’s going through the beautiful bride’s head right now?”

(Y/N) briefly paused her mascara application and pretended to ponder Clint’s overly-exaggerated question. “Whether or not it would be rude of me to drop that camcorder through a portal to Muspelheim and lock you in the basement until after the ceremony.”

The archer snickered before jumping up to sit on the dresser behind her and turning the camcorder around to directly address the camera. “As you can see, your mom gets a little cranky when she has to wake up early. Not sure if that’ll go away in the future or just get worse, so…either way, good luck with that, kiddos!”

“When you volunteered to film the ceremony and parts of the reception for us, I really should’ve questioned it more.” (Y/N) resumed applying her mascara while fighting back a smile. “At least any future children of ours will watch this, see just how ridiculous their Uncle Clint is and know that we weren’t exaggerating. Oh! Speaking of children, are Peter’s friends here yet? Tony was supposed to send Happy into Queens to pick them up an hour ago, but I haven’t heard anything about them since.”

“Yeah, they’re all hanging out in the old lab downstairs and Tony’s helping ‘em prep their sound equipment as we speak; you and Loki do know that there’s literally thousands of professional DJ’s living in New York you could’ve hired to run your wedding reception that aren’t sixteen and can actually drive themselves to their venues, right?”

“Says the friend of ours who practically begged to be the videographer even though he’s a professional archer by trade…” She mumbled under her breath, twisting the mascara wand back into its tube just as someone knocked on her suite’s door. “Come in!”

The door opened and Natasha popped her head into the room, her long red hair still wrapped in curlers, a clipboard in her hands and a comm link secured in her ear. The spy was taking her many duties as Matron of Honor very seriously, treating the day’s celebration as if it were a highly-classified mission and not a mid-sized wedding located at Tony’s family mansion; each of their teammates had been assigned specific duties and responsibilities and throughout the morning, Natasha regularly checked in with them to ensure that their tasks were going smoothly, which explained why she was shooting Clint the trademark glare she normally reserved for Hydra agents and invading aliens. “Last I checked, Barton, you’re supposed to be overseeing the florists in the garden and not raising the bride’s blood pressure right before the wedding.”

Clint jumped down from the dresser and raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, no need to go all Black Widow on me, Tasha.” He crossed the room and pressed a chaste kiss onto (Y/N)’s cheek before winking at her through the vanity’s mirror. “I’ll see you at the altar, (Y/L/N)!”

Natasha gave the archer one final glare as he hurried out of the suite while whistling ‘Chapel of Love’ and shook her head when the door closed behind him. “I swear, I’m gonna have to start using my Widow Bites on these people if they don’t start being more helpful…” The spy turned her attention to (Y/N) and her concentrated frown morphed into a smile. “Aw (Y/N), you look stunning and you haven’t even put on your dress yet! I’m serious, it’s like you’re glowing or-” She cut herself off and held a hand up to her ear to listen to a voice in her comm. “Wait a sec, Bruce says that the caterers just arrived. Did you want me to get you anything before I check in on them?”

“Is it too early in the day for a glass of champagne?”

“Not if there’s a splash of orange juice in it,” Natasha answered with a mischievous grin. “I’ll be back before you know it!”

The door closed behind the spy and for the first time that morning, the room fell silent. (Y/N) sat back in her seat and let out a sigh of relief; she loved her friends and teammates dearly, of course, but all she wanted to do was prepare for the wedding in peace and with as little stress as possible. The wedding was slightly larger than they’d originally anticipated, with over a hundred guests from Midgard, Asgard and Alfheim all gathered together at one of Tony Stark’s family mansions in the heart of New York City, and with the ink still drying on the three realms’ fledgling peace treaties, handling the guests and ensuring that they remain peaceful would be a difficult task to carry out on a day already filled to the brim with difficult tasks. So far, her friends were doing an excellent job with ensuring that everything was running smoothly but after living the life of a superhero for over a year, she knew just how quickly a situation could shift from calm to catastrophic.

“I wonder of Loki’s feeling just as anxious about all this as I am,” (Y/N) murmured to herself, giving the photograph of her soon-to-be husband she’d tucked into the edge of her vanity’s mirror a smile before setting her sights on her un-styled hair, hoping that the intricate task would serve to distract her from the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Brother, what exactly is this gloopy green substance?”

“It’s an avocado and green tea mud mask.”

“…And why have we applied it to our faces?”

“It removes impurities from the skin while unclogging pores and absorbing excess oil.” Before Thor had a chance to ask another question, Loki brusquely continued. “Yes, it’s meant to relax you and no, you cannot eat it.”

Instead of becoming annoyed by Loki’s shortness, his brother chuckled. “In that case, these mud masks must be defective because you’re anything but relaxed, brother.” With a defeated sigh, Loki removed the cucumber slices resting on his eyelids and sat up, tossing the slices into the nearby trashcan and making his way into the suite’s bathroom to wash the half-dried mud mask off; he was halfway done when Thor entered and leaned against the door-frame, a look of concern visible even beneath his own thick mud mask. “Loki, are you all right? You haven’t been yourself all morning, and it’s beginning to worry me. You’re not having second thoughts about the wedding, are you?”

“No! No, of course not,” Loki emphatically shook his head. “I’ve been waiting for this day for quite a long time, believe me, but I…well, it’s an awfully significant life change, isn’t it? I know that what I’m feeling is only a natural reaction to such a change, of course, but a part of me can’t help but wonder if I’m even deserving of this life I’m about to embark on with (Y/N).”

His brother nodded in understanding. “I believe that Wilson refers to them as intrusive thoughts; unwelcome, involuntary thoughts with no basis in truth or fact that can manifest as a result of several forms of trauma.” When Loki raised his brows in surprise, Thor sighed and rolled his eyes in mild exasperation. “Believe it or not, brother, I do listen to what others say when they’re around me. The important point to be made is that they’re wrong; as your designated Best Man, it’s my duty to ease these irrational worries of yours and I believe that I have just the thing!”

Thor disappeared into the bedroom and quickly returned with an ornate bottle and two glasses, and Loki’s jaw nearly dropped at the sight of the familiar flagon. “That’s one of Asgard’s last remaining bottles of the great Hoder’s spiced mead. It’s to be drunk on the most special of occasions and only with the Allfather’s express permission…”

“I took a page out of your book and simply borrowed a bottle on my way out of the palace.” The older man grinned proudly at his uncharacteristic act of subterfuge and Loki couldn’t help but chuckle. “The Allfather might not agree, but my brother’s wedding and all the happiness it will surely bring him is a special occasion.”

As Loki’s throat burned and he fought back the sudden tears brought on by his brother’s support, he watched as Thor poured the amber-colored liquid out into the two glasses and pressed one into his hand, the corner of his mouth curving upwards while he raised the glass. “Well then, to happiness.”

“To happiness,” Thor echoed, and the two brothers clinked their glasses together before downing the spiced mead in one go. “Another!”

There was a gentle knock on the suite’s door and Frigga’s voice called out, “Loki? Thor?”

“Oh, Hel!”

Both men scrambled to hide the evidence of their treasonous transgression, shoving the spiced mead and glasses unceremoniously under the sink and rushing out of the bathroom to open the door for their mother; the Queen of Asgard was dressed spectacularly in a pale turquoise dress and matching wide-brimmed hat, looking just as elegant in Midgardian clothing as she always did on Asgard. Frigga was beaming as she stepped into the suite and reached up to hold Loki’s face between her hands. “Oh, I can hardly believe that my darling little one is getting married today, and to such a wonderful young woman as well! How are you feeling, Loki? Have you eaten anything at all?”

“I’m fine, Mother, just a little anxious.” Loki matched her infectious smile with one of his own. “After all, it’s not every day that three realms of the cosmos come together to celebrate a wedding.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about, because your brother and your friends are doing such an excellent job at keeping everything running smoothly.” Frigga gave them both a knowing look. “Perhaps another glass of Hoder’s spiced mead will soothe your nerves? Now, be a dear and make mine a double, please.”

Loki and Thor exchanged a wide-eyed look of surprise as their mother crossed the suite and began brushing the stray pieces of lint off their suit jackets hanging near the window, humming a cheerful tune to herself as she did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pulling back to admire her handiwork, (Y/N) smiled brightly and twirled Cassie’s chair around to face her vanity’s mirror. “There, all finished! What do you think, Cassie?”

Their flower girl-slash-ring bearer squealed in joy and turned to her with the widest smile on her glittering face. “It’s so pretty! I love it!” She threw her arms around her middle and tightly hugged her. “Do I look like a fairy from Alf…Alf…?”

“Alfheim? I’m not sure, actually, I’ve never seen a fairy there before.” Shrugging, (Y/N) glanced over at Elora, who was preoccupied with unzipping the large garment bag containing her wedding dress. “Elora has, though! Haven’t you, Elora?”

The General of the Alfheimian Army looked up from her task with a small shudder. “Unfortunately. The little beasts possess needle-sharp teeth and use their woodland magic to mask their presence right before viciously attacking any who dare trespass into their domain.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in alarm but before she could chastise the Alfheimian for her bluntness, Cassie clapped her hands together and let out a delighted laugh. “That is so cool!”

A knock on her suite’s door drew (Y/N) away from Elora and Cassie’s animated discussion of the various magical beasts that lived on Alfheim, and she opened the door to reveal Sam and Bucky; both men were already dressed in their suits, minus their floral boutonnieres, but her calm demeanor vanished when she caught sight of the panicked expressions they were desperately trying to mask. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong, doll-”

“Yeah, everything’s goin’ according to plan, (Y/L/N), promise-”

“Nat had us come up here to…um…”

“To see if you needed any help with…anything.”

She arched an unimpressed brow that almost instantly silenced both men. “Do I really have to ask you two again?”

“…Scott lost the wedding rings!” (Y/N)’s jaw dropped and Bucky let out an indignant noise as Sam raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, Buck, but she’s got the same death glare my mom used to give me! Yeah, Scott put the rings down and now he can’t find them anywhere, and he can’t even use the ants to help ‘cause he didn’t bring his suit along.”

The super soldier hastily added, “Nat’s trying her best to jog his memory, but…well, you know Nat. I think she might end up making the poor guy faint before finding out where he might’ve lost the rings.”

“Okay, okay…” Rubbing her temples in an attempt to quell the rapidly-growing headache, (Y/N) took a steadying breath and forced herself to remain calm as she began formulating a plan. “All right, my hair and makeup’s already done, so let me find some slippers and we’ll go find Nat and Scott. I might be able to use my Alf Seidr to try and find them-” Both Sam and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. “-But not a word of this to Loki, okay? The last thing he needs today is any added stress…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arching a curious brow, Loki examined the items laid out on the coffee table before glancing up at his teammates. “This is a Midgardian tradition? It seems a little silly that these random objects can determine the outcome of a marriage.”

“Yeah, it’s a good luck thing here on Earth, Lokes, like that old Saints jersey Sam wears during every football season.” Clint held up the camcorder and pointed the lens at Loki as he continued. “Your dad’s a pretty smart guy, kiddos, but don’t let that fool you; he once thought your mom was dying when she was only having a little brain freeze. Remember, Lokes?”

“Children, if you’ve ever wondered why your mother once attempted to hit your dear Uncle Clint over the head with a coffee-table book, then now you know,” Loki snickered as the archer flushed pink and rolled his eyes.

A reluctant smile played on Steve’s lips while he finished fastening his cuff-links across the suite. “I hate to say it, but Barton’s right about it being good luck here. ‘Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.’ Your mother gifted you a set of cloak clasps for today so that’s your ‘something old,’ your tuxedo counts as your ‘something new,’ Tony’s lending you one of his nicer Rolex watches for your ‘something borrowed,’ and your ‘something blue’ are the navy blue suspenders you’re wearing.”

Loki hummed in interest. “I suppose that a little extra luck wouldn’t go amiss…”

Just as he slipped the borrowed Rolex onto his wrist, a visibly panicked Thor burst into the suite and made a bee-line to Steve. “Captain Rogers, there’s an urgent matter that I must speak to you about!”

“If it’s that Tony wrote a borderline explicit speech to read at the reception, then we all know and Nat already took care of-”

“No, no, it’s not that, but we really should discuss this matter out in the hall-”

“What is it, Thor?” Loki asked, tilting his head in confusion as he took in his brother’s unusually pale face and arching a disapproving brow when he proceeded to badly explain away his concern. “Brother, surely you haven’t forgotten that I’m the God of Lies? Whatever it is, I’m sure that we’ll be able to handle it before the ceremony begins.”

Thor swallowed and anxiously bit his lip before blurting out, “A wizard is currently battling a space worm out on the lawn.”

“What?!” Loki, Steve and Clint all exclaimed in unison.

“It just appeared out of nowhere and started wreaking havoc across the grounds, but then a wizard stepped out of a portal and started fighting it! Stark and Rhodes are already on their way to help but it seems that the beast is indestructible!”

With his jaw clenched tight in mounting agitation, Loki stood from his seat and summoned his emerald-green magic. “Not if I have anything to say about it.” A shimmer of light enveloped his body and in the blink of an eye, his wedding attire morphed into his Asgardian battle armor and daggers appeared in his grasp. “The beast and this so-called wizard will soon regret the very moment they dared to step foot on this property.”

Steve shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and reached for the red, white and blue shield propped up beside one of the suite’s armchair. “Barton, keep the caterers and florists away from the lawn, and make sure the guests stay inside and away from the windows.”

“On it.”

“And not a word of this to (Y/N), all right?” All three men nodded in agreement and Loki’s grip tightened around the hilts of his daggers. “The last thing she needs today is any added stress…”

As the trio of men hurried outside, a part of Loki wondered if he’d been tricked into believing that a cosmic monster was in the process of battling a sorcerer and that it was all some sort of elaborate prank concocted by his brother and friends to ease his pre-wedding jitters. However, that spark of hope was quickly extinguished when Steve threw the back door open and was forced to jump back to avoid being struck by Rhodes’ flailing body falling from the sky.

“Oh, I’m definitely gonna feel that one for a couple of days,” Rhodes groaned in pain and allowed Steve to hoist his armor-clad body to his feet. “Either of you guys wanna tell me what an ugly-ass space worm is doing here in New York? ‘Cause it’s definitely not here to wish the bride and groom its best!”

The familiar sound of repulsor blasts intermingled with the booming roars caused all four men to turn and watch as Tony darted around the tentacles of an enormous pink creature and a dark-haired man wearing a burgundy cape conjured orange-hued magic to counter its vicious attacks. “Earth has second-rate sorcerers now, how delightful…” Loki rolled his eyes and turned to the others. “It’s an Abilisk, a cosmic creature that feeds off significantly-sized energy sources, and it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if that cheap magician down there summoned it here out of pure incompetency.”

“Let’s deal with the Abilisk first, brother, and then we’ll confront the wizard later!” With a burst of lightning, Thor flew off towards the enraged creature and attempted to slam Mjolnir against its skull, but he was quickly swatted aside by one of its flailing tentacles.

Loki and Steve exchanged a look with Rhodes before joining the battle; the Air Force colonel attempted to shoot it with one of his suit’s many guns but was unsuccessful due to the creature’s impenetrable hide and no matter how twisted its own tentacles became due to the super soldier’s impressive athleticism, the beast remained standing and overwhelmingly angry. After throwing a handful of emerald-green magic at a tentacle to stop it from slamming into Steve’s back, Loki looked over to see the bearded sorcerer performing a spell nearby. “Care to introduce yourself and explain why you’ve brought an Abilisk to my wedding?” He yelled over the creature’s deafening roars.

“My name’s Doctor Stephen Strange, I’m a Master of the Mystic Arts, the guardian of the New York Sanctum in Greenwich Village and I most certainly did not summon an Abilisk here!” The sorcerer shouted back as he threw two semi-circular protective shields at the Abilisk’s face, where they exploded on impact and disoriented the enraged creature further. “Someone here at this mansion opened an inter-dimensional portal and let this creature come through, and as soon I arrived to send it back, my sling-ring was stolen from me by an unchecked summoning spell!”

“Sling-ring?”

“Yes, it’s what allows me to channel the magic needed to open inter-dimensional portals between any two points within the universe and without it, I can’t send the Abilisk back to where it came from!”

Loki was quickly filled with a sneaking suspicion about the whereabouts of the sorcerer’s sling-ring, but he prayed to the Norns that he was wrong as he called out to the others, “Does anyone here have access to Romanoff’s comm link? I think she may be able to shed some much-needed light on the situation!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air around (Y/N) crackled and hummed with magical energy as she used her Alf Seidr to sense her surroundings and a familiar tugging sensation in her stomach preceded a strange weight in her outstretched left hand. She opened her eyes and her excitement instantly turned to annoyance when she was met with the sight of yet another unfamiliar ring; the one resting on her open palm looked different from the rest, almost reminding her of a pair of brass knuckles but with strange etchings across its bronzed surface. “Well, this definitely isn’t what I’m seeking…” She tossed the object into the basket of other rings she’d inadvertently summoned while searching for the lost wedding rings and sighed. “Do any of you have any bright ideas?”

Scott, Natasha, Sam and Bucky all shook their heads from their spots across the laboratory, and the ex-convict was the first to speak. “I-I’m really, really sorry about this, (Y/N), I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Scott, I know you didn’t mean to lose the rings…” (Y/N) rubbed her temple in an effort to quell her raging stress-induced headache as she considered what to do next. “I’ll just have to try the spell again, then maybe it will-”

“Tony?” They all looked over to see a frowning Natasha listening to her comm link. “Okay, slow down, I can’t hear what you’re…wait, what wizard ring? Yeah, Scott lost the rings and (Y/N)’s been using her magic to try and find ‘em, but…” The spy’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped at whatever the billionaire was saying through the comm. “Oh shit.”

(Y/N) frowned. “What is it, Nat?”

Before Natasha could answer, the wall nearest to (Y/N) suddenly exploded and she had just enough time to summon a protective bubble of magic to encase them as chunks of stone and debris began raining down. The dust was beginning to settle when she flicked her wrists to remove the shield, her brows rising in surprise as she recognized her future brother-in-law extricating himself from the rubble. Thor’s blue eyes widened comically when he spotted her standing before him and he swallowed nervously before giving her a small wave. “H-Hello, Lady (Y/N). Shouldn’t you be off preparing for the ceremony?”

“What’s going on, Thor?”

“Nothing, nothing, just an intense arm-wrestling match with your delightful Alfheimian friends; for one so small, Myriani has quite the arm!”

“Thor.”

Natasha stepped forward and gestured towards the comm link in her ear. “According to Tony, there’s a giant space worm wreaking havoc on the lawn that you unintentionally summoned here with your Alf Seidr, and the only person who can get rid of it is a wizard-doctor who lives in Greenwich Village but you accidentally stole his magic ring.”

“God, just put me back in the damn ice…” Bucky groaned as he dropped his head into his vibranium hand.

Sam reached into the basket of rings and withdrew the odd-looking shape made of engraved brass. “I’m no expert on wizards, (Y/L/N), but this kinda looks like it could be magical to me.”

(Y/N) took the ring from Sam and with a wave of her hand, she transformed her silk robe and slippers into her Cosmic Sorceress uniform and marched through the hole in the laboratory wall. There was indeed a towering pink-skinned creature flailing its many tentacles as her friends and teammates fought their hardest against it; Tony and Rhodey were firing their suit’s repulsors and dodging its tentacles in the air while Steve, Loki and an odd-looking man wearing a red cloak tried all they could to draw the creature’s attention away from the mansion. Ignoring the guilt beginning to eat away at her, (Y/N) strode across the lawn and called out over the deafening roars, “Doctor, catch!”

The wizard-doctor looked over and raised his hand just in time to catch his ring, quickly slipping it into his fingers and rotating his hands in a circular motion to create a sparking orange portal directly beneath the creature; it released a final roar as it dropped down into the portal and disappeared, leaving the grounds of Stark Mansion silent. The stranger closed the portal he’d opened and breathed a sigh of relief before setting his sights on an embarrassed (Y/N). “Your royal highness, would you care to explain what’s going on and why you took my sling ring?”

(Y/N) fidgeted with her finger-less gloves and attempted to smile, but it appeared as more of a grimace. “First of all, I’m very sorry for all the trouble this has caused you, Doctor…”

“Strange. Doctor Stephen Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts and the guardian of the New York Sanctum.” They shook hands and she silently took note of the unique magical energy radiating from him. “You’re (Y/N) (Y/L/N), former trainee librarian turned Cosmic Sorceress, the Crown Princess of Alfheim, daughter of the Alfheimian Layeia Tilasdottir and the very-human David (Y/L/N), descendant of the esteemed Lady Astrid, designated representative between the Light Elves and the Nine Realms of the cosmos, and the Defender of the Realm of Alfheim.”

Taking a step back, (Y/N) arched a questioning brow and fought the sudden urge to summon her magic or even her sword. “For someone I’ve never met, you certainly know an awful lot about me.”

Doctor Strange shrugged. “I make it my business to keep an eye on beings that pose the largest threats to this world and I have to say, you’re quite high on my list.”

“Well, like I was saying, Doctor, all of this has a very simple if not embarrassing explanation-”

“(Y/N)!” They both turned to see Loki and their friends hurrying towards them; their tuxedos were covered in grass stains and an odd multicolored slime, and her fiancé’s emerald-green eyes were filled with worry as he gently held her shoulders and leaned down to meet her gaze. “Darling, are you all right? What happened?”

As the rest of their friends and even some of their guests began making their way across the lawn, (Y/N)’s embarrassment grew and she brought a hand up to partially hide her face. “Scott misplaced the rings and I thought I could use my magic to find them, but my anxiety must’ve led to me opening a portal and then the strength of my spell accidentally took Doctor Strange’s sling ring, and…well, you know the rest. I still have no idea why I wasn’t able to summon our rings; it’s almost as if something was blocking my magic…” Loki paled at her words and it was (Y/N)’s turn to be concerned. “Loki?”

“This situation, um…it may not entirely be your fault, darling.” Her fiancé chuckled awkwardly and rubbed his neck as he glanced over at where Scott, his girlfriend Hope Van Dyne and Cassie were all standing near Elora. “You see, I assumed that Lang might misplace the rings so before I started getting ready, I placed an enchantment on them and as an added precaution, I instructed Barton to give Lang an empty ring box and give the real ones to-”

“Hey, guys! Cassie had the rings the whole time!" Scott shouted and gave a giggling Cassie a celebratory fist-bump. “Either my little peanut’s becoming a better thief than her old man, or someone didn’t trust me with ‘em in the first place. Probably the second one, huh?”

With an incredulous laugh, (Y/N) allowed a chuckling Loki to pull her into his arms and shook her head in disbelief. “Does that mean we ruined our own wedding?”

“My dear, you both haven’t ruined a single thing,” Frigga reassured her as she walked up to them and gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Your friends and guests are still here, all of them safe and unharmed, and the sun is shining brightly in the sky. Why shouldn’t your wedding continue as planned?”

A stern-looking Doctor Strange raised a hand and answered, “Because Miss (Y/L/N) here nearly caused the destruction of New York with her unchecked magic and a mass hysteria the likes of which hasn’t been seen since his invasion. Such an act, even one as accidental as you claim this one to be, cannot go unexamined and unpunished.”

(Y/N) bit her lip while Loki rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to counter his words, but his mother’s hand on his arm silenced him as she turned to Doctor Strange with a brilliant smile. “It’s very nice to meet you, Doctor Stephen Strange of Midgard; I am Frigga, the Queen of Asgard and mother to Loki and Thor. My dear future daughter-in-law has recently obtained an extraordinary amount of Alf Seidr that she’s still training to control and seeing as today’s her long-awaited wedding day, it’s quite understandable that her focus was shaken.” Frigga sympathetically rubbed (Y/N)’s back and took a moment to adjust her uniform’s purple-hued tiara before returning her attention to the sorcerer. “Now, I’m sure that a highly-skilled Master of the Mystic Arts such as yourself would be honored to utilize the Time Stone hanging around your neck and repair the damage caused by the creature, so as to ease Lady (Y/N)’s frazzled nerves and prevent any other unfortunate accidents from occurring.”

Doctor Strange blinked in surprise. “Um…”

“For your valiant defense of this realm, Asgard recognizes you as one of its trusted allies and speaking as the mother of the groom, I would personally be honored if you joined us for today’s celebration of Loki and Lady (Y/N)’s nuptials.”

“That’s, um…thank you, Queen Frigga, for extending an invitation to me…I-I’d be honored to attend…” The sorcerer’s cheeks flushed pink and he tried his hardest to avoid making eye-contact with the beautiful goddess in front of him. “I’ll start on the repairs right away…”

While a flushed Doctor Strange started using the power of the Time Stone to reverse the damages to their friends’ tuxedos first, (Y/N) turned to look between Frigga and Loki as her stunned expression morphed into a grin. “You really did inherit your Silvertongue from your mother, didn’t you?”

“So it would seem,” Loki replied and leaned down to press a kiss onto his mother’s cheek. “Thank you for intervening on our behalf, Mother.”

Frigga’s blue eyes twinkled with some mischief of her own as she gave them a conspiratorial wink. “Of course, little one. I was raised by witches who taught me many invaluable lessons, among which was that diplomacy and deceit are two sides of the very same coin.”

After the Queen of Asgard went to supervise the sorcerer as he repaired the lawn and floral arrangements surrounding the white gazebo that they’d soon exchange their vows within, (Y/N) spotted Clint filming the aftermath of the battle and giggled. “This’ll be a fun memory to share with our future children: How Mom and Dad’s magical shenanigans nearly wrecked their own wedding.”

Loki laughed. “After listening to Stark read me an online article chronicling several common wedding day horrors, ours was relatively tame by comparison.” He gave her forehead a lingering kiss before meeting her gaze with a tender smile. “Are you ready to get married, my love?”

“More than ready, sweetheart.” (Y/N) slipped her hand into her fiancé’s and swung their arms as they made their way into the mansion to finish getting ready for their wedding ceremony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour and over a dozen magical repairs later, Loki and Thor stood outside on the mansion’s veranda with Cassie Lang, keeping the flower girl-slash-ring bearer entertained and patiently waiting for (Y/N) and Natasha to finish their last-minute preparations so the ceremony could begin.

The guests were all seated and talking amongst themselves while they enjoyed the late afternoon sunlight breaking through the fluffy white clouds; the only people not seated in the rows of benches were General Elora – who would be officiating the ceremony, as it mainly drew from ancient Alfheimian customs – and Peter, MJ and Ned; the young woman graciously volunteered to play the guitar while they walked down the aisle, and her two best friends were keeping her company as she perched herself on a wooden stool beside the gazebo’s steps. Floral arrangements comprised of green and lavender Dahlias and branches of fern lined the aisle and hung gracefully off the ends of the sculpted wooden benches, while vines of green ivy and lilacs wrapped around the gazebo’s posts and railing. The interior of the gazebo was illuminated with dozens of twinkling fairy lights that were set to brighten as the sun started to set, and lanterns of battery-powered candles hung from each nearby bush and tree.

Embracing a mixture of Asgardian and Midgardian traditions, Loki was dressed in a tailored black tuxedo with an emerald-green cloak fastened to his jacket by the engraved golden clasps his mother gifted him, and he wore a floral crown of blooming laurels and leaves. On Asgard, one’s future spouse chose the flowers that best represented their intended and after much deliberation, (Y/N) picked the laurel for its many symbolic meanings; the laurel symbolized nobility, intelligence and an acknowledgement of the new phase he was entering by marrying her. Quite a flattering choice on her part, he thought with a reserved smile as he conjured another tiny burst of fireworks for Cassie’s amusement.

“Perhaps one day, young Cassie, my brother will show you how he can transform into any animal one could imagine,” Thor remarked to Cassie as he took a moment to readjust his green pocket-square.

The little girl’s eyes widened in amazement and she quickly turned to face Loki. “Can you turn into an ant?!”

Loki blinked in surprise as Thor stifled a chuckle behind his hand. “Um, well…now that you mention it, I haven’t actually tried.”

“Oh. I like ants. The ones that my daddy works with are really nice!”

Watching Cassie suddenly switch from talking about ants to twirling around in her soft green dress, a part of Loki hoped that his and (Y/N)’s future children shared the little girl’s quirky enthusiasm and unapologetic sense of wonder. The sound of the veranda’s glass door opening caused Loki to turn around and when he did, he was met with the jaw-dropping sight of his fiancée. (Y/N)’s off-white wedding dress – impeccably designed for her by Luke Jacobson – was relatively simplistic, with a fitted bust that cinched at the waist and flared out into a flowing skirt that reached the floor, but what elevated the entire look from simplistic to enchanting were its unique details; a lace overlay of hand-sewn floral designs was fastened onto the bust, branching out into fluttering sleeves that hung down to her biceps, and the only jewelry she wore besides her engagement ring was a delicate pair of pearl earrings she inherited from her late aunt. Her hair was arranged into one of her favorite styles and on the top of her head, she wore a floral crown comprised of white Camellia blooms; he’d picked them for her because they symbolized admiration, respect and everlasting love and devotion. A veil of lace-trimmed white chiffon was attached to the back of the floral crown, hanging gracefully down her back and barely brushing the floor. The finishing touch was the bouquet she was clutching in her hands; it was comprised of laurel, white Camellia blooms, lavender and lilac-colored roses and dusty green foliage.

“Darling…” Loki approached her almost reverently and stood before her with a dazed smile on his face. “I truly am the luckiest man in all the Nine Realms, to find myself marrying such an ethereal goddess as you.”

(Y/N) shyly ducked her head before reaching a hand up to straighten one of his cloak clasps. “You must be a mind-reader, then, because I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

His lips chastely caressed her knuckles as Natasha stepped onto the veranda with a small basket of multicolored flower petals and a small bouquet of her own; the Matron of Honor was dressed in a simple lilac-colored gown, with her long red curls pinned up in an elegant style by a single white Dahlia and glittering silver heels on her feet. “Save the kissing for later, lovebirds, we’ve got a wedding ceremony to begin.” Mindful of her gown, the spy bent down and held the basket out for Cassie to take. “Okay, Lang, just like we practiced.”

“I’m on it,” Cassie replied, toothily grinning and giving Natasha a thumbs-up before taking the basket from her and allowing the spy to quickly adjust (Y/N)’s veil.

“Are you two ready?” After Loki and (Y/N) nodded, Natasha held a hand up to her comm link and spoke lowly into it, “All right, kid, let’s do this thing.”

Across the way, MJ nodded and gestured for her friends to take their seats, spending a moment adjusting her guitar’s shoulder strap before beginning to softly play. The guests’ conversations started to dim down and with a nod of confirmation from the spy, Cassie walked across the lawn and started to slowly make her way down the aisle, scattering flower petals along the way while her father beamed with pride from his seat.

Thor leaned down to give (Y/N)’s forehead a chaste kiss and clapped a hand on Loki’s shoulder, his blue eyes sparkling with happiness as he allowed Natasha to loop her arm around his. “See you in a minute.”

Natasha winked at them and with that, the Best Man and the Matron of Honor began their walk down the aisle; when they ascended the gazebo’s steps and took their respective places, (Y/N) slipped her hand into Loki’s and he squeezed it tight as they crossed the lawn to stand at the end of the aisle. Once the guests all stood and turned to face them, Loki and (Y/N) exchanged a smile before starting down the aisle hand-in-hand; long before they knew it was Alfheimian tradition that the bride and groom walk themselves down the aisle on their wedding day, (Y/N) pointed out that since they’d both be entering into marriage with one another, it only made sense that they’d choose to walk down the aisle together.

While they slowly walked down the aisle as MJ played a gentle love ballad on her guitar, Loki looked out at their friends, teammates and colleagues standing amongst the guests to distract himself from the butterflies beginning to flutter around his stomach. Nick Fury, Maria Hill, Everett Ross and Doctor Helen Cho stood alongside everyone they invited from S.H.I.E.L.D., the director giving them both an approving nod as they passed by; Steven Grant – the quirky man they’d met while on vacation in Egypt and to whom (Y/N) was a devoted pen-pal – stood beside Layla El-Fouley, his alter Marc Spector’s stunning wife, and for the briefest moment, Loki could even see the skeletal figure of Khonshu lingering by one of the distant trees; their new and reluctant friend Doctor Stephen Strange, now dressed in a simple black tuxedo instead of his sorcerer’s robes, stood beside his fellow sorcerer Wong and attempted to not look as uncomfortable as he presumably felt amongst so many superheroes; Peter Parker and Ned Leeds were trying their hardest not to seem too excited to be sharing a row with Doctor Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis, and Loki could hear (Y/N) stifle a giggle when the eccentric woman winked and fired finger-guns at them; Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne’s attention was caught between watching Loki and (Y/N) make their way down the aisle and keeping an eye on Cassie standing on the gazebo beside Thor, while Bucky and Sam both smiled widely at them as they passed; Bruce stood beside his cousin Jennifer Walters, who was already flirtatiously eyeing an embarrassed Rhodey standing across the aisle, while Pepper elbowed a snickering Tony; Steve and Clint stood at one of the front rows, the super soldier beaming with happiness and the archer filming their procession with his camcorder.

At the front of Loki’s side of the aisle stood their Asgardian and Alfheimian friends and family. Fandral winked at him and Sif grinned widely as Volstagg toasted them with the chocolate bar he was snacking on and even the ever-stoic Hogun gave them an atypical smile. Queen Amirah of Alfheim stood beside her guards, Hagen and Myriani, and the afternoon sunlight make her blue opal tiara sparkle almost as much as her smile, and at the end of the row stood Frigga, who was dabbing at her tear-filled eyes with a handkerchief as they walked past and ascended the gazebo’s steps.

Elora patiently waited for all the guests to take their seats to begin. “We are gathered here to witness the union of Crown Princess (Y/N) Layeiadottir (Y/L/N) of Alfheim and Midgard and Prince Loki of Asgard, two halves of the same shining soul, in blessed matrimony. Do both parties stand here of your own free will to acknowledge the eternal bond shared by the both of you?”

“We do,” Loki and (Y/N) replied in unison.

“Then you may face one another, join hands and recite your written vows.”

After (Y/N) handed her bouquet over to Natasha and placed her hands in Loki’s, she took a steadying breath before smiling up at him. “Loki. Through all the tears and all the struggles we’ve overcome together, a part of me always knew that we were destined to make it here. My heart was yours the moment I first looked into your beautiful eyes and as I look into them now, I can see every ounce of the passion and devotion I feel for you reflected in them. Sweetheart, you’re my greatest love and the brightest light in my life, and I promise to love and cherish you from here to eternity as your wife.”

Loki swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself not to cry as he started speaking his own vows. “(Y/N). Not a day goes by where I don’t count myself the luckiest man in all the Nine Realms to have the love of someone as utterly magnificent as you. In the beginning of our romance, I feared that you were too good to be true, that I couldn’t possibly be deserving of someone so pure and loving as you are. But here we stand, surrounded by our friends and family, and I feel proud and incredibly blessed to become your husband. My darling, you’re my lover, my best friend and my eternal soulmate. All I am is yours, and here before our friends, our family and the Norns themselves, I vow to be until the end of time.”

(Y/N)’s eyes were filled with unshed tears and although Loki’s gaze never left hers, he could hear the sniffles and rustling of Kleenex packages amongst their guests. “(Y/N), do you take Loki to be your husband, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and disappointment, to love him faithfully today, tomorrow and forever?”

“I do,” (Y/N) vowed and smiled widely up at him.

“Loki, do you take (Y/N) to be your wife, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and disappointment, to love her faithfully today, tomorrow and forever?”

Loki solemnly nodded as he vowed, “I do.”

“And now, for the rings.”

Cassie nodded, handing one ring to Natasha and the other to Thor before giving her father an excited wave, causing a ripple of giggles through the rows of guests; the spy handed (Y/N) the ring and her eyes flicked between his and the thin band she held as she recited the ceremony’s next words. “I present to you this ring as a symbol of my devotion.” She slipped the band onto his ring finger to rest above his gold engagement ring. “My body, my soul and my everlasting love I share with you always and forever.”

Accepting the ring that his brother handed him, Loki gave (Y/N) another smile before reciting, “I present to you this ring as a symbol of my devotion.” He slipped the band onto her finger above her sparkling engagement ring. “My body, my soul and my everlasting love I share with you always and forever.”

“May these symbols of your devotion serve to always remind you of your everlasting bond.” Elora’s golden-colored eyes were slowly misting over as she spoke, no doubt wishing that (Y/N)’s late mother and father could be there to witness their only child be married. “And now, by the power vested in me by my rank as General of the Alfheimian Army, it is my honor to declare you both married. Go forth and live each day of your lives together to the fullest. You may seal this declaration with a kiss.”

Beaming with happiness, (Y/N) stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against Loki’s in a brief but passionate kiss that he was quick to reciprocate. For one singular blissful moment, everything and everyone around them faded away and they stood alone on the gazebo, sharing a sweet and loving kiss that symbolized their long-awaited unification as husband and wife. The cheering and applause from their guests brought Loki back to reality sooner than he would’ve liked but after reminding himself that they’d have plenty of time to be alone later, he ended their kiss and gave his wife a mischievous smile before scooping her up in his arms and spinning around while she burst into joyous laughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To say that the wedding reception was one of the liveliest parties (Y/N) had ever attended would be an understatement. From the moment they were declared husband and wife, she felt as through she’d been whisked straight into a dream that seemingly had no end to it; once they finished having their wedding photographs taken, they spent a half an hour by themselves in one of Stark Mansion’s many living rooms, enjoying several slices of pizza (and lots of kisses, of course) and taking time to relax for the first time that day while the guests filtered into the ballroom for the reception.

After (Y/N) and Loki snuck into the beautifully-decorated ballroom and made their rounds around the tables to greet their guests as they enjoyed their dinner, the trio of teenagers they’d allowed to be their DJ’s took their places behind their equipment and announced the bride and groom’s first dance as husband and wife; they both had fun watching their guests’ reactions when, instead of some sort of romantic waltz or ballad, they danced along to the fast-paced disco hit ‘You’re The First, The Last, My Everything,’ spinning and twirling so much around the dance floor that (Y/N) was thankful she’d removed her floral crown and veil and that Loki had dressed down to just his black tuxedo.

The guests took to the dance floor once dinner was cleared away and while Loki danced with Frigga, Thor asked (Y/N) for a dance. From there, (Y/N) danced with every member of the Avengers and their off-realm guests to a wide variety of music; she requested Big Band tunes for Steve and Bucky and slower songs for Bruce and the Warrior’s Three, while Tony, Clint and Sam happily danced along with her to some faster pop numbers. Natasha pulled her into a ladies-only group dance with Jane, Darcy, Helen and Maria, and after a brief dance with Everett Ross, (Y/N) had their trio of DJ’s pause the music so she could reveal her surprise for Loki.

“I’d like to start out by thanking you all for being here with us today,” (Y/N) began as she stood before the crowded ballroom. “As I’m sure some of you know, I had a difficult road to recovery after the Battle of Boston. Sam suggested that I take up playing the piano again as a form of musical therapy, but I was hesitant at first; you see, my aunt taught me to play when I was a child and I stopped when she died because I couldn’t enjoy the music without her. Loki…” Her voice momentarily caught in her throat at the unexpected emotions welling up within her, but spotting her husband standing amongst the crowd helped her to steady herself and keep going. “Loki stayed with me every single time I sat myself at the piano. With him by my side, I found the strength to enjoy the music again and slowly but surely, I started to heal. Loki’s always been there for me when I needed him the most, which is why I’d like to dedicate this next song to my new husband.”

Peter and MJ plugged in the last chord as (Y/N) sat down at the electric keyboard they’d set up for her, both teenagers ducking out of the way with a whispered “break a leg!” while she adjusted the microphone and straightened her posture; seeing the curious expression on Loki’s face and the eager anticipation filling his emerald-green eyes, (Y/N) gave him a smile and a little wink before she began to play.

“Sweet, wonderful you, you make me happy with the things you do. Oh, can it be so, this feeling follows me wherever I go. I never did believe in miracles, but I’ve a feeling it’s time to try…I never did believe in the ways of magic, but I’m beginning to wonder why…” A widening grin played on (Y/N)’s lips as the guests took to the dance floor and started to dance to the spirited Fleetwood Mac tune while she sang. “I never did believe in miracles, but I’ve a feeling it’s time to try…I never did believe in the ways of magic, but I’m beginning to wonder why…” While the guests continued to dance, Loki approached the electric keyboard she was seated at and watched her fingers fly across the keys with an unreadable expression on his face. “Don’t, don’t break the spell, it would be different and you know it will. You, you make loving fun, and I don’t have to tell you but you’re the only one. You, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…you, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…you, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…you, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…”

When the song finally came to an end, the crowd burst into applause and their three DJ’s were quick to select another pop song that kept everyone out on the dance floor. (Y/N) thanked the teenagers for their help and crossed the makeshift stage to where Loki stood but before she could say anything, his arms were around her and he was dipping her low as his lips captured hers in a reverent kiss; when they were finally forced to separate for air, her husband straightened them both up but kept his arms wound around her waist and gave her a tender grin. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you sing, darling, and you sang that beautiful song just for me. Rest assured, I’ll treasure that moment for the rest of my days.”

“Thanks to our archer-turned-videographer, you’ll be able to watch it over and over until you get sick of it,” (Y/N) chuckled as she glanced past Loki to see Clint filming Natasha and Thor reenacting the famous lift from Dirty Dancing to the amazement of the dancers nearest to them.

Loki’s fingers gently took hold of her chin and guided her to look at him, and his love-struck gaze remained trained on hers as he slowly shook his head. “Never, my love. Now, how about a slice of cake and some Asgardian mead?”

Everyone gathered to watch (Y/N) and Loki cut their three-tiered wedding cake with one of his intricate daggers and after they’d indulged in their dessert, four of their grinning and slightly-inebriated teammates took to the makeshift stage; Natasha and Clint’s cheeks were tinged red, Sam’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his bow-tie was missing, and Tony couldn’t contain his giggles as he stepped up to one of the microphones.

“Hey, guys! Great party, huh?” The crowd cheered and Tony nodded in agreement. “Well, you better hold onto your hats ‘cause it’s about to get even greater!”

(Y/N), who was standing beside Loki and catching up with both Pepper and Helen, looked over at her husband with eyes widened in horror. “He’s not about to give a speech, is he?”

“Not if he doesn’t wanna spend tonight sleeping on the couch,” The CEO replied before taking another sip of her champagne. “Trust me, he and I already had a lengthy discussion about what constitutes as appropriate wedding reception behavior.”

“In my experience, Mr. Stark tends not to retain information told to him in less than three sentences or in any tone other than pleasant.” The world-renowned geneticist let out a long-suffering sigh and watched the four Avengers setting up several more microphone stands. “Hence why he’s permanently banned from my laboratory.”

While Pepper gave Helen an understanding nod, Loki wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders and gave her a comforting squeeze. “I’m sure that whatever they’re planning will be very touching…also, Romanoff stole Stark’s intended speech and vaguely threatened bodily harm if he attempted to improvise one; he may be an impulsive Midgardian, but he knows better than to find himself at the mercy of the Black Widow.”

(Y/N) chuckled as the lighting dimmed and all of a sudden, a spotlight landed on the two of them. “You see, the four of us up here got together and decided we wanted to do somethin’ special for our two good friends here. Like (Y/L/N) here mentioned earlier, she used music to help her out during her recovery and she’d play for all of us in the tower; so, we got together and figured that it was time we were the ones to play something for her…or rather, sing something for her. Hit it, adolescent DJ’s!”

The teenagers began to play an instrumental track of Frankie Valli and the Four Season’s ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You,’ and Loki offered her his hand. “Shall we?”

With a smile on her face, (Y/N) nodded and allowed her husband to lead her to the empty center of the dance floor, slow-dancing along to the song’s pleasant introduction and biting her lip to keep from giggling when Tony and Sam started singing and Natasha and Clint provided their back-up vocals. “You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you. You’d be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much. At long last love has arrived, and I thank God I’m alive. You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you…”

“Did you tell them that I like this song?” (Y/N) suddenly asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she examined Loki’s overly-cheerful face. “Because I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned to any of them that I like this song.”

Loki merely arched a brow and his emerald-green eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now, why would I do such an odd thing as that?”

“Pardon the way that I stare, there’s nothin’ else to compare. The sight of you leaves me weak, there are no words left to speak. But if you feel like I feel, please let me know that it’s real. You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you…”

As the small instrumental revved up for the chorus, (Y/N) was twirled around in tight circles and before she could question her husband further, his voice suddenly echoed throughout the ballroom and sang, “I love you, baby!” (Y/N) gasped in disbelief when she looked over at the makeshift stage to see Loki standing at one of the microphones, and she laughed when she realized that her dance partner was a clone created from Loki’s magic. “And if it’s quite alright I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night, I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…” Loki was grinning widely as he sang and when his eyes found (Y/N)’s, he gave her a sly wink. “Oh, pretty baby! Now that I’ve found you, stay, and let me love you, baby, let me love you!”

“You really are a trickster,” (Y/N) remarked to Loki’s smirking clone, who merely shrugged and continued to sway them across the dance floor.

“When our friendship first began, my darling (Y/N) took it upon herself to introduce me to all of Midgard’s greatest literary creations and being the dedicated bibliophile that she is, she more than succeeded.” The real Loki onstage smiled as he held onto the microphone. “Each and every novel and play she recommended provided me insight into her beautiful mind but when it came to watching the filmed adaptations of her favorite literary works, I was able to observe just how they affected her…which is how I know that (Y/N) adores the scene in a certain modern Shakespearean adaptation when the handsome lead surprises the heroine with a public show of affection.”

(Y/N) felt her face warm and a reluctant grin spread across her face as she glanced back at the clone she was dancing with. “10 Things I Hate About You was the first movie we watched together when I joined the Avengers. I…I can’t believe you remembered that…”

The clone leaned down and pressed a kiss onto her forehead while the real Loki onstage continued to sing. “I love you, baby! And if it’s quite alright I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night, I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…Oh, pretty baby! Don’t bring me down, I pray, oh pretty baby, now that I’ve found you, stay, oh pretty baby, trust in me when I say…”

When the song came to an end, the clone vanished in a shimmer of green magic and as the crowd clapped and cheered, an impressed-looking Darcy leaned towards (Y/N) and yelled over the din, “Geez, is there anything that guy can’t do?”

“If there is, then I’ve certainly never seen it!” (Y/N) chuckled and when Loki finally made his way through the crowd, she looped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him. “That was beautiful, sweetheart!”

“It was a challenge to keep our rehearsals a secret and I might’ve downed a shot or two of liquid courage beforehand, but I’m glad that you enjoyed it.” He pressed a kiss onto the tip of her nose and grinned when she laughed at the ticklish sensation. “You surprised me with a beautifully-performed song, and I surprised you with a slightly-less conventional performance; I suppose that great minds really do think alike.”

“Okay, here’s another oldie for all you oldies out there!” Ned Leeds’ amplified voice announced and the opening notes of The Village People’s ‘Y.M.C.A.’ filled the ballroom, causing the guests to eagerly take to the dance floor.

Nearby, Jane frowned and turned to Darcy standing beside her. “Wait, did that kid just call us old?”

“Join the club,” Both Steve and Bucky quipped as Natasha and Jennifer Walters dragged them past towards the center of the dance floor.

“Oh, I love this song!” (Y/N) grabbed Loki’s hands and started to sway along to the catchy beat. “It was in The Office, remember? It’s the song that plays towards the end of the Café Disco episode!”

“You’re right, but I’m still confused as to why a song about a worldwide youth organization inspires such a visceral reaction in Midgardians.” Loki studied the dancers around them in curious amusement. “And what about it has anything to do with weddings?”

She ducked under his arms and spun so that her back was pressed against his front, craning her neck so that she could meet his gaze with a grin. “It’s a catchy, cheesy song that has the easiest dance moves in the world to perform. Doesn’t that make it the perfect party song?”

Loki shrugged and spun her back out to face him. “Only if one has the perfect dance partner to go along with it.”

“Then I suppose we’re in luck,” (Y/N) quipped, pressing a kiss onto her husband’s knuckles before manipulating his arms along to the song’s iconic chorus and dissolving into a fit of giggles at the absurdity of the God of Mischief dancing along to ‘Y.M.C.A..’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the moon was high in the star-filled sky and the reception inside Stark Mansion was beginning to wind down, Loki and (Y/N) snuck off to the gazebo they were married in and swayed to the slow music playing in the distance, surrounded only by the beautiful flowers and twinkling fairy lights that decorated the structure. (Y/N)’s head rested on Loki’s shoulder and his eyes were closed as one of his hands held hers against his chest, directly over his heart.

“Do you think that we’ll see Doctor Strange again?”

Loki thoughtfully hummed and nodded. “I’m sure we will, but not for a long while; I believe that the superhero lifestyle unnerved the poor fellow and I doubt he wants to incite the anger of any of our friends. As long as you continue to train and master your abilities, there won’t be a reason for that second-rate sorcerer to bother you again.”

(Y/N) lifted her head so that she could meet his gaze, a single brow arched as her (Y/E/C) eyes sparkled with delight. “So, are you finally going to tell me where we’re going on our honeymoon?”

“And ruin the surprise I’ve spent two months meticulously planning? Where’s the fun in that?”

“Loki, I have to know what sort of clothes to pack!”

“Darling, I don’t imagine we’ll be wearing any for the majority of the honeymoon.” Loki’s teasing snickers quickly transitioned to laughter when (Y/N)’s fingers mercilessly tickled his neck in retaliation. “All right, all right, I surrender! On Monday, you and I will travel the Bifrost to Karapiro, New Zealand and spend ten days at Lakeview Lodge; we’ll have the opportunity to visit Rotorua, the Waitomo Caves and even take a tour of-”

“Hobbiton,” (Y/N) gasped and Loki’s grin widened as her face lit up with excitement. “We’re going to see where they filmed The Lord of the Rings movies?!” When he nodded, she flung her arms around his neck and nearly tackled him to the floor with the force of her embrace, but he was quick to catch her and hold her up against him while she laughed in delight. “I have the absolute best husband in the world!”

Loki’s heart leapt in his chest when she called him her husband and when she moved her hands to cradle his face, he tenderly smiled up at her and replied, “Well, the best wife in the world deserves everything I can offer her and more, does she not?”

(Y/N)’s expression softened into a look of loving adoration, and the feather-light touch of her thumbs caressing his cheekbones nearly made his eyes flutter closed in bliss. “You know, I think about that day we first met in the library from time to time. I replay the entire scene my mind – how I stumbled and how you were by my side in an instant to catch me, how our eyes locked and my breath was nearly taken away by the way you looked at me, how my heartbeat sped up when I realized how much I enjoyed having your arms around me – and when I do, I thank the universe for sending a mischievous and misunderstood trickster to steal my heart that day.”

“When I think of that fateful day, I find myself thanking the Norns for sending a kind and passionate lost princess to spellbind me, body and soul,” Loki huskily replied as his eyes stung with the prickling of tears. “And I pray that she’ll never set me free.”

(Y/N), her eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy, gently shook her head and leaned forward to ghost her lips over his. “As long as the trickster holds her heart, she never ever will. So…” She held her hand up and stuck her little finger into the air with the hint of a playful grin on her face. “Pinky-Promise?”

Loki laughed and adjusted his hold on her so that he could wrap his little finger around hers. “Pinky-Promise.”

Their lips finally met in a passionate and unhurried kiss and Loki sighed at the heavenly sensation of (Y/N)’s fingers carding through his hair, holding his beautiful wife in a tight embrace and smiling through the love-filled kisses they exchanged beneath the gazebo’s twinkling lights.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

A/N: I honestly loved writing this and indulging in some of my own personal wedding dreams lol if anyone would like to see the different reference pics I used while designing the wedding, just shoot me a message and I’ll send ‘em to you! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk?si=5fcb3ef04de544e7

Three’s Company (A Spellbinding-Verse Interlude)

“Spellbinding” Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva​​​​​​​​​​​ @ravenclawbitch426​​​​​​​​​​​ @cminr​​​​​​​​​ @confusedfandomwriter​​​​​​​​​​​ @momc95​​​​​​​​​​​ @nickkie99​​​​​​​​​​​ @austynparksandpizza​​​​​​​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​​​​​​​ @a-laufeyson​​​​​​​​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​​​​​​​​ @itscomplicatedx​​​​​​​​​​​​ @0-artemis​​​​​​​​​​​​ @vivloki​​​​​​​​​​​​ @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​​​​​​​​ @groovy-lady​​​​​​​​ @mostclevermiss​​​​​​      

[theinsideofus]

Happy Holidays! Sorry this is late!

Happy Holidays! Sorry this is late! - https://www.insideofus.com/happy-holidays-sorry-this-is-late/ I haven't had a lot of time during the holidays to come on here and update the blog, been busy with 3 kids, school ending for the semester, and of course working full time! I do have something exciting that I do want to share though. Normally, I do pretty good in school, currently at Grand Valley State University in Allendale, Michigan. This semester though, I managed to ALMOST get on the Presidents List. By ALMOST I mean I was off by 0.075 GPA. I had a 3.925 GPA this semester and couldn't believe how bummed I was when I finally was able to see my grades and see that I was off by that tiny amount. I may have mentioned before that I took 4 classes, I had a lot of fun, met some great new people and was able to get involved with the Court Appointed Special Advocates of Kent County, Michigan. I am so proud to be a part of the CASA team here in Grand Rapids, Michigan. I will be adding a photo later of myself and my daughter, who came with me to the swearing in ceremony. My other 2 kids came too, but they didn't want their pictures taken in front of everyone, so we got some outside of the court room. I haven't yet had the chance to look over any cases, I think I'll be starting that in the first week of the new year. I am really looking forward to being the voice of a child or children and helping them get the things they need and be a support for them. We need more volunteers to work with kids on this level, so if you're interested, please reach out to me! CASA is not just in Michigan, it's in a lot of other states, and I believe it's nation wide. So, this is my short update on my life. I am going to be starting a pod cast very soon, I'm hoping to start that on the 4th of January. I'll be posting info on that soon too! I hope everyone had a great Christmas! Take Care!

[crimechannels]

By • Olalekan Fagbade Ajulo, 57 other Lawyers confirned as SAN by Legal Practitioners Privileges Committee LPPC The Legal Practitioners’ Privileges Committee (LPPC) has confirmed Dr kayode Ajulo, a constitutional lawyer and 57 others as Senior Advocates of Nigeria (SANs). This is contained in a statement issued in Abuja on Thursday by Secretary of LPPC, Mr Hajo Bello. The News Agency of Nigeria (NAN) reports that LPPC had earlier shortlisted 69 lawyers for the prestigious award, Those in the list included Funmi Falana, the wife of Mr Femi Falana (SAN); the daughter of Chief Afe Babalola (SAN) Mrs Folashade Alli, Abiola Oyebanji, Bomo Agbebi. On the list also were Daniel Uruakpa, Felix Offia, Lawrence Falade, Kingsley Obamogie. “The LPPC, Chairmanship of His Lordship, Justice Olukayode Ariwoola, approved their rank as SAN“, Bello said in the statement. He said the swearing-in ceremony of the 58 successful applicants would take place on Nov. 27. Ajulo is a rights activist renowned for his extensive knowledge and activism in various areas of law. These include litigation, constitutional law, corporate and commercial law, and human rights. He obtained his first law degree from the University of Jos and pursued further education at various international institutions. He currently serves as a research scholar at Lincoln University College and volunteers his expertise as an adjunct lecturer at several universities, including his home state institution, Adekunle Ajasin University, Ondo State. Ajulo’s remarkable contributions have earned him numerous awards and honors, including Officer of the Order of the Niger (OON) which was conferred on him by the President Muhammadu Buhari, (NAN) #Ajulo57otherLawyersconfirmedSANbyLPPC

[thxnews]

National Archives Dedication: Dr. Shogan's Appointment

  Remarks as Prepared for Delivery by First Lady Jill Biden

Thank you, Governor Blanchard. And thank you for your dedication to the National Archives. Senator Capito, you were a champion for Dr. Shogan in the Senate. Thank you for everything you did to make this moment possible. Twenty-two years ago today, the horror of 9/11 changed us all in some way. We must always remember those lost that day and in the aftermath. And we will keep their families always in our hearts. We stand with them today, and every day. The history of a democracy belongs to its people, and we must preserve it with care for future generations. As far back as the Constitutional Convention, our leaders recognized the power of our founding documents and the importance of keeping them safe and accessible. This experiment in democracy hinged on the people, and their ability to claim their rights and hold their elected officials accountable. That power could only be made real with access to history, unfiltered and uncensored. So, in the 250 years since, we have collected these records, first in the hands of George Washington, later at the Department of State, and now in the National Archives. Each one is a snapshot in time tracing the history of a young republic – our republic – from its nascent beginnings to who we are today – the greatest, most powerful country on this planet. The Constitution and the Declaration of Independence. The Louisiana Purchase and Emancipation Proclamation. The 13th and 19th Amendments. Harriet Tubman’s Civil War pension claims. Thomas Edison’s lightbulb patent. A letter Annie Oakley sent to President McKinley in 1898 volunteering the services of 50 “lady sharpshooters” for the Spanish-American War. The transfer of power between 46 presidents. Each of these pieces of paper tells a story – the story of a country and its people, zigging and zagging through history, imperfectly marching toward a more perfect union. Conversely, sometimes that story is a dark one. Manifests of slave ships. President Roosevelt’s Executive Order on Japanese internment. The Supreme Court’s Dred Scott decision. It’s these stories we must learn the most from. It’s these we must study, for past is prologue, as one of the statues flanking this building proclaims. As an educator I know this well, that our present and our future are inextricably linked to our past – and that we must learn from that past or be bound to repeat it. That’s why, as First Lady, I’ve been so committed to upholding these sacred institutions, so they may continue to serve the American people and teach the next generation about our shared heritage. These National Archives have captured our complicated story for nearly 100 years. And for that entire period, the Archives have been led by men. Today, however, I’m so honored to be part of the ceremony to swear-in the first woman ever to be appointed Archivist of the United States. The history we preserve, the stories we elevate, the voices we amplify are shaped by the person at the helm of this institution. These stories are all of our stories – men and women, of all backgrounds, ages, and creeds, what we choose to preserve, and whose voices we deem worthy of placing in our national memory. That’s why this milestone – the first woman head of the National Archives and Records Administration – is so momentous. Dr. Shogan, congratulations on becoming the 11th Archivist of the United States. You’re immensely qualified with a sterling record of service, a clear commitment to preserving our nation’s unique history, and a deep respect for this country’s founding principles. I can’t wait for the next generation of American stories that will be housed within these walls, under your leadership. Thank you.   Sources: THX News & The White House. Read the full article

[pisupsala]

One for The History Books [Chapter 8] [Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw]

[Summary] You are an archivist at the Pentagon, sent on assignment to TOPGUN to catalog and report on a top secret mission. In the days under the Californian sun, a certain naval aviator puts your once orderly life in a tailspin that you might never recover from.

[Pairing] Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc

[Warnings] Mature content: swearing, (explicit) smut. 18+ only.

[Words]4.6k

[Index] All Chapters | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Epilogue

[Library]

One for The History Books - Chapter 8: Surface Tension

You settle back into your old life quite easily, you think at least. You go to work, do your work, take extra time to help out the interns by proofreading papers, giving feedback on projects, taking extra files home with you to work through, volunteering to help out sorting the old files and photo backlog in the subbasement, you are absolutely not drowning yourself with work so you: a) don't have to think about how much you are actually hurting because you are not hurting, that's ridiculous; b) to have plausible deniability for why you are not turning in a research proposal about the mission. You're just so busy. You just keep forgetting to write that research proposal. Completely normal. It's not because you don't want to think about anything or anyone related to the mission, or because it would be unethical to write about a mission that you were hardly an impartial spectator of. And it's definitely because this breach of ethics could mean the end of your career if this ever got out, and you were still actively working on the mission report. Nope. Busy. It's about a month after you've gotten back from California, you're in a meeting with Riks and your boss, Birch. He's a stocky former marine colonel in his early sixties, still rocking a high and tight and a perpetually annoyed expression. He's leadership style is... efficient, that's the kindest word for it. Not taking any shit is probably more apt. He's currently sitting behind is desk, tearing into the research proposal Riks gave him. He's in his element, setting out his argument in a brusque voice with barely any breathing space, let alone back-talk. Behind you, one several interns are furiously taking notes of the feedback, hoping to pick up pointers on how to improve their own work. Riks is trying his hardest to look impassive, but you can tell he is annoyed. He doesn't like getting told he's wrong, and he likes it even less when it in front of subordinates. Birch concludes his droning monologue, casually sliding the folder over the table back to Riks. “Do better, corporal.” He concludes without ceremony. You know better than to react by cracking a smile. You keep your eyes trained on the desk before you. “Miss Williams...” Birch sits back in his chair. “I'd tell you to do better, but you didn't even try.” You purse your lips. “Why didn't you turn in a research proposal on the TOPGUN mission? I didn't send you to California to get a tan.” You swallow. Choose your words carefully. “I have decided I don't want to proceed with researching this mission. My time -” “Don't.” Birch cuts you off harshly. “Don't give me the spiel about how your time is better spent. That's for me to decide. I want an explanation about what you mean that you don't want to.” You shrug lightly. “I suppose I just don't like planes that much. I can't see myself spending the coming six months writing about an aviation mission.” In the corner of your eye, you see Riks go so wide-eyed his eyeballs are about to pop from his skull. Birch narrows his eyes at you. The back of your neck is prickling. You are getting nervous. Keep it together. Don't give them an inch. Birch can't make you do anything.

He suddenly slams his hand on the desk. “Everyone out!” He barks. Behind you, the interns are scrambling and Riks quickly gathers his papers. You start getting up from your seat slowly, maybe... “Sit your ass down, Williams.” Shit. You sink back into the chair. You didn't expect to get out of this easily, but you kind of hoped just not writing a proposal and doing whatever shit job Birch would punish you with would be the end of it. You expect to be put on public desk duty for a few weeks, answering emails and phone calls. Or some menial work like cleaning up the storage. But Birch clearly wants to grill you some more before meting out punishment. Birch has gotten up from his desk and is pinching the bridge of his nose, and he walks towards you. He sits down on his desk in front of you and looks are you wearily. “Look, Darcy...” His voice is suddenly a lot softer. “Staying on base and in barracks between sailors and marines cannot always be easy for a woman.” You blanch. Birch has never called you by first name, ever. “There's alcohol, unfamiliar surroundings—if anything... untoward happened during your stay at Miramar...” His voice sounds pained. “Nothing—nothing happened.” You choke out. Oh god, your face is burning at the implication. Have you been acting so off that Birch thinks you've been assaulted in some way? “I just... really don't want to work on this anymore.” You say empathetically. “You haven't been yourself since you came back.” He continues, undeterred. “Every report coming out of California is clearly your work. Good work, detailed work. And now...” You open your mouth to protest, but Birch just hold up his hand. “And now you go out of your way to avoid it, refuse to discuss it, bury yourself in anything but this mission.” You bite your lip. You knew you were being obvious in your avoidance, but you never thought Birch would care enough to call you out on it like this. “You don't even make an effort to one up Riks with a proposal, and that's not the Williams I know.” You sigh. It was never meant to go this far—you didn't want anyone to worry about you. You'll get through this by yourself, in due time. “Thank you for being so concerned about me, I really appreciate it.” You smile softly. “I have been... struggling with a few personal things lately, but it's unrelated to work.” It's not strictly speaking true, nor a complete lie. Just vague enough to be believable. Birch looks at you sympathetically. You didn't even know he knew that emotion, but you appreciate it nonetheless. “You have to tell me why you won't work on this project, Darcy.” He implores. “I don't need details, but I need to know if something happened-” “I just don't like planes.” You cut Birch off rather flatly. Or rather pilots, you think bitterly. “So I'm choosing to work on something else.” Birch's sympathy melts like snow in the sun. Oops. “If you are sticking to that bullshit explanation, Williams, you bet I have something else for you to work on.” He bites out. “The storage is due it's annual cleaning.” He gets up from the desk and turns to walk back to his chair. It's a sign you have been dismissed. You get up and start making your way to the door. Your heart is almost beating out of your chest—did you actually get through this? Is it over for real? “Miss Williams?” You turn around, schooling your features. Birch is looking up from his desk. “You are on my team, so you are my responsibility. My door is always open.” You nod with a polite smile. “Thanks boss. Have a good day.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey! Darce! Wait up - Darcy!” You're not really in the mood to chat with Leanne, one of the interns, after the dressing down you just got from Birch. But you also know she will be fishing for gossip. Archivists are naturally curious people—they have to be—and that usually extends to other facets of their life. Gossip in the archives, and the Pentagon at large, is like a sport. Everyone participates, even if they are only a spectator.

Some people gather gossip to find out weaknesses and get on over on others - Riks in one of those people. Others bathe themselves in every type of gossip just for the fun of it. Leanne would be a prime example of that. She's pretty and easy going, moreover she is one of the few people that actually likes working the front desk. She says because she enjoys talking to people, but in reality it's the best spot for gossip, because everyone and everything has to go through her there. “Hi Lee” You reply lightly. “What can I help you with?” You don't break your stride, needing to get to your office. Leanne speed walks up to you, with a look of concern on her face, but eyes full of curiosity. “What did Birch want? We were all so concerned!” She fires off. “He looked scary as he yelled at us to get out.” You chuckle lightly. “Don't worry about it. It's not the first time we've gone head-to-head.” “What did he say to you?” Too transparent, Leanne, too transparent. “That's classified.” You smile at her, as you stop at your office door, swiping your key card to unlock it. Leanne's face fall a bit. “Was it really bad?” She questions. “Leanne. It's classified.” You cut her off with a smile. It might not be classified by the DoD, but as far as you are concerned, no one here cleared to pry into your conversations with your boss or your private life. You might be friendly, but you are still a senior staff member, and your business is no one's but your own. “Let me get you a coffee—and I'll -” Leanne starts. “I think I hear the phone at the front desk ringing.” You interrupt her, not harshly, but firmly. “Bye Leanne!” You call over your shoulder as you swing your office door shut behind you. That girl does not know when to give up. She'll make a fine researcher, but you'd rather she not research you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When it rains, it pours. You've been relegated to cleaning the storage, leaving you only a few hours a day to do your actual work—funny, also, how few interns are suddenly assigned to work in the storage. You spend most of your days alone in the subbasement sweeping, dusting, checking folders and putting boxes back in place. You don't mind that much actually, especially in the first few weeks. It gives you time to think, and finally try to rationalize yourself out of your mental mess. You're having mixed success, because having extricated yourself from anything to do with the mission, you still have to get your personal life back on track. Unfortunately, that means getting tested for STDs. You had unprotected sex with Bradshaw, which in hindsight, was so fucking dumb you can now barely believe you actually did that. What kind of spell did that man put you under that you would not only put your job in jeopardy, but also your health? For now, it's easier just to put the blame on him anyway—he's not here after all—instead of examining what led you to upend your whole life in a few weeks for a man you barely know. It would be an act of kindness to yourself to file this entire affair away with other deeply embarrassing stories (which are mostly from college and involve alcohol) and never tell another soul about it. You are thankful that you are by yourself in the subbasement when you receive the call from the clinic—it's a clean bill of health, which you consider a blessing at this point. This will have no more consequences for you if you don't let it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Birch seems to be hellbent to have you clean up the entire storage by yourself. It's been almost a month now, but he hasn't let up. At all. He gives you small tasks putting together reports for incoming information requests, but nothing spectacular—certainly nothing of the caliber you were assigned before. He sends interns your way to help them with their assignments, but at no point tells you are dismissed from the storage. He just expects you to find a way to get it done, which is as well, but shit.

Birch must be angrier with you than he lets on, because at this rate you'll be stuck cleaning that storage to the end of the year.

It's high summer and hot as hell. While the storage is climate controlled, it's a small respite when dragging around big boxes full of paper. Every day, you go home sweaty and sticky, to the point you've just started to keep a change of fresh clothes in your criminally underused office.

Today is one of the days you actually join your team for lunch—no use to keep yourself cloistered away all the time. Your appetite has been shot for a while now, and the current heat wave is certainly not helping.

And Corporal Cunt sitting across from you doesn't help with anything. Ever.

You are somewhat listlessly digging through your chicken salad with a fork, taking a bite here and there because you know you need the energy, rather than actually wanting to eat. You'll probably have a candy bar of some kind later, as sickly sweet confections seem to be the only thing you can consistently stomach.

“Darcy, what do you think?”

You blink as you completely zoned out from the conversation at the table. Eric, another intern, is looking at you expectantly.

“I'm sorry-” You smile. “What was the question?”

Riks snorts and mumbles something under his breath. Eric, on the other hand, is undeterred, and thrusts a file into your hands.  He excitedly starts talking about discrepancies between files and reports from a mission and how many different versions he has of one event.

“How do I know which one is the most accurate?”

“You don't.” You shrug. “At least not really. In this job, we only know what the files tell us, and we can infer how to fill in the gaps, but that doesn't make it the truth.”

“How do we even get so many different versions of one event?” Leanne cuts in. “I'm not talking about small discrepancies, but like- a whole different story?” She amends.

You thumb through the file idly, happy to be occupied with something but your salad.

“People commonly misremember in hindsight.” You pause. “And sometimes they just lie.”

“Why?” Eric has abandoned his lunch in favor of the discussion completely.

“Yeah, why, Williams?” Riks cuts in. “Since you are the resident expert...” He trails off on purpose. Your cheeks burn, but you refuse to look at Riks.

“To protect themselves or to protect someone else... sometimes because they can, and it's convenient.”  You grind out, done with this whole conversation now. Handing the file back, you start getting up from the table.

“If you'll excuse me...”

“Don't go yet, Williams.” Riks says grinning. You throw him a guarded look. “I wanted to ask how your new diet is going.”

You stare at him, daring him to continue.

“Seems quite extreme, no?” He says, gesturing at your half-eaten salad. You continue staring him down, half out of your seat already. Voice low, he continues: “So Bradshaw likes them skinny, then?”

It feels like someone just dropped an anvil on your stomach. You seriously consider tipping your lunch tray over Riks and his own too for good measure. Possibly beat him with the tray too. Your mouth sets in a hard line.

“Corporal, you are out of line.” You keep your voice even, not betraying how badly that comment got to you. The chatter at the table has stopped, and you are acutely aware you are being watched. Riks is still grinning.

“I will not have my professionalism and personal life questioned over a chicken salad.” Your tone is clipped. “Certainly not by you.”

Steadying yourself with your hand on the table, you lean over to him.

“If you had any proof of misconduct on my account, you would have taken it to Birch weeks ago.” You throw Riks a smile. You both know he has no proof of anything. Because there isn't any. He stares back at you, unfazed.

“You always take things so seriously, Williams.” Riks shrugs. Nice deflection, asshole. “It's almost as if...”

“Have a good day, everyone.” You cut him off mid-sentence, not wanting to be in his vicinity another second longer. Not looking around, you grab your tray and make your way to the cafeteria exit, absolutely seething.

You had actually been doing better. You actually managed not to think about Bradshaw so much anymore. Now your stomach is in knots and your legs feel like they have been filled with lead. You hate how much Bradshaw still affects you, and you hate even more how much Riks' comment got to you. It hurts to think Bradshaw probably never thought of you as attractive, but just as there. Convenient. Available. Willing.

Yeah, why would a guy like that go for a girl like you anyway?

You sigh deeply as you return to the subbasement. You haven't cried over Bradshaw since you got home two months ago, and you are not about to start now. Best to just get on with work. Time will heal all wounds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When it rains, it pours.

It's early fall and still uncharacteristically warm for the season, and when you get out of bed that morning, you have a strange sense of foreboding. You dreamed of Bradshaw, which makes you realize you hadn't actually thought about him in a good couple of weeks. Nothing about the dream sticks with you in the minutes after waking, except for the fact that he was in it.

It's been three months and then some since you got back. The memory of him still puts a pit in your stomach, but it's smaller each time. You've filed away every memory and feeling of Bradshaw in a box in your head, tied it with a string, and pushed it into a dark corner. Sometimes feelings leak out, but they are no more than short, intrusive thoughts. This whole affair has taken more of your time, attention and sanity than it probably deserved, and you're done with paying it any more attention.

Still, the strange feeling you've woken up to makes you consider calling in sick. But Eric and Leanne need the feedback that you wrote for them, so they can finish their class assignments. Your sense of duty wins out as you roll yourself out of bed to get ready for another day in the storage.

Within the hour, you are convinced that there is a higher power that is trying to stop you from actually going to work today. First, your car's battery seems to have died. The bitch won't even sputter as you try to start it. Honestly, you cannot bring up the energy or care to pop the hood and try to figure out what is wrong. Not that it would be of that much use, you're not particularly mechanically inclined.

You suppose you could wait for one of your neighbors to help you jump start your car, but it's early enough you could take a bus too. You'll just deal with the car later. It's Thursday, so you're two days away from the weekend, and taking the bus you'll have some time to read at least. Keep a positive attitude. Just power through it.

As you a pulling your bag from the car, you see the bus pass by your stop down the street. Crap, that means you have to wait for thirty minutes for the next one. But hey, that also means you can stop by the little coffee shop on the way and get a nice cold brew to go. Or a latte. Maybe a croissant.

You'll make your own luck today.

Sure, you end up arriving at work later than you planned, but you also realize it doesn't really matter. You don't have any deadlines currently anyway. You join the line of people at the metal detectors to get into the Pentagon. You make small talk with the guards as they run your bag through the X-ray. Many people just walk through without as much as an acknowledgement, but you see these people every day. A little politeness goes a long way. 

Scanning your personnel pass to open the gates, you walk into the building to the elevators. Riks has been giving you a wide berth since your last confrontation in the cafeteria, but you are not particularly in the mood to run into Birch right now. You're clearly still on his shit list, and you don't want to give him more reason to keep you there any longer. Although you suppose you're the most overpaid storage attendant in the DoD right now.

You almost forget about the weird feeling you had earlier that morning as you get to work. You're working up a sweat heaving boxes that have been cleaned and sorted back onto the shelves. You are on your tiptoes pushing a box back with sweaty hands that you realize you should have really grabbed a ladder for this.

Straining, you put as much power as you can behind it, but the cardboard file box end up slipping down. You push back, trying to catch the box before it hits the ground—the momentum knocks you back on your ass and the edge of the box catches the bridge of your nose. For a second, you sit on the ground, stunned. You barely register that the box is a bit banged up, but intact, when your nose starts to gush blood. You yelp, using the sleeve of your sweater to try to stop the bleeding and for the love of god not get any blood on the files.

With shakey legs you get up, sleeve still pressed up to your face. Your breath is coming out in short bursts and your eyes are watering.

Bathroom. You need to get to the bathroom.

Mercifully, the hallways are empty—most people have gone to lunch. You slip into the nearest ladies' room and survey the damage. The thin light gray knitted sweater you were wearing is pretty much ruined. The right sleeve is covered with blood. It was old, which is why you were wearing it, but you still liked it.

Your nose seems to be okay too—it's sore, but definitely not broken. God, you hope you don't get a bruise from this. You don't think you're concussed, either. You could go to Birch, explain what happened, and take the rest of the day off to go get checked out. Or not. You're fine.

Splashing some water on your face, you use paper towels to clean up your hands and face. You consider getting changed—you have a clean shirt in your office, but then you'd have two sweaty tops and a bus ride home ahead of you.

In the end, you decide to just roll up your sleeves, hoping the stain won't be so obvious. Between your car pooping out that morning and this, you really hope it's the end of the bullshit for today.

You try to take it easy for the rest of the afternoon, working on lighter boxes and not attempting to put anything away on higher shelves. The bridge of your nose is sore, but nothing that you can't handle. You are over today, though. The faster it's over the better, so you can go home, take a shower and crack open a cold beer or something.

It's going on 4:30 PM when you gather up a pile of files that needs sorting and start heading up to your office. On the way, you refill your mug with hot coffee, needing a final boost for the last leg of the day and the journey home.

Walking past the front desk, you notice Leanne isn't there, but you think nothing of it. There's a pile of mail behind the counter. Balancing your mug on the files in your arm, you quickly rifle through it, making a note to ask Leanne to sort the mail as soon as she gets it. You pick out the envelopes addressed to you and add them to the pile in your arms. Your office is not far, and you hope you can slip into it unnoticed and get changed before anyone catches you. You are really not in the mood to explain the blood, and you're not just really in the mood to talk with someone at length when you are sweaty and sticky like this. Your hair is pulled up with what you are sure is a messy as hell ponytail by now, and your hairline is itching from the sweat. Not to mention, you're probably covered in dust. Home, shower, cold drink. In that order. When you reach your office door, you realize you have probably taken on a bit too much. Using your free hand to dig in your pocket for your personnel card to unlock your door, you end up pulling out your phone and some pens first—adding them to the precarious pile of stuff you are holding. Finally unlocking the door, you push it open with your shoulder. You freeze in the doorway. In the next second, you lose grip on the files you're holding, scattering them on the ground. Your mug shatters on the tile floor at your feet, spewing droplets of hot coffee at your ankles and over the papers. Your phone hits the ground with a resounding bang, but you barely register any of this happening. It's like time has stopped around you while your brain is desperately trying to parse the image your eyes are seeing. Rationally, you must have a concussion, because you are clearly hallucinating. Because why else would he be here?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[note] I've gotten so many amazing comments on the last chapter, and I cannot describe how happy it made me people are still enjoying the story! Thank you so so much for the kindness and support everyone <3

[taglist] @ponyboys-sunsets | @thatchickwiththecamera | @littlewhiterose | @katieshook02 | @straightforwardly | @zazzysseoul | @rororo06 | @datingbtr | @notalxx | @fresh-new-yoik-watah | @gretagerwigsmuse  | @swthxrry | @joshkiskasbunion | @caelipartem | @blackbrownie | @yanak324 | @unluckymonaghan | @letusbewildflowers | @ticklish-leafy-plant | @alana4610 | @eg-dr3amer3 | @turningtoclown | @mell-bell | @mak-32

[lookbluesoup]

Writing US Military Characters

This is a non-exhaustive list of some common ‘quirks’ or habits that can give away a character’s military experience. Wrote it up for myself and it’s particularly useful when I want to show instead of tell. These are based on first person accounts from several vets! Thought others might like to use it too for a reference :D Ones with * or ** came up particularly often.

Like any guide, it’s just that - a guide, not a set of rules! A character is unlikely to do all of these, and other factors like ADHD, trauma, or just personality might effect what sticks. People are endlessly diverse! 

Eat, Drink, Dress, and Rest

* High tolerance for physical discomfort

** Eat very fast, and aren’t picky about the taste

** Can sleep anywhere - on a helicopter, in enemy territory, up high, underground, when it’s loud, when it’s quiet

* Can operate effectively without sleep for over 24hrs, or with erratic and limited sleep for days

** Wake up early, 0500-0700; Wake up quickly and ready for action

* Hair cut regularly. Beards stay clean shaven (alternatively some may avoid shaving when out of uniform)

** Dress practically and neatly, jackets buttoned/zipped up, ironed, polished

Take hat off indoors 

Organization and Talents

Gearhead

Gun nut

Detail oriented

** Pockets are meticulous. The same thing always goes into the same pocket, for easy reach. Pockets never full to bulging. Carry multitool.

** Hands stay out of pockets - ready. (Hands in pockets is forbidden in the military. Some Special Forces may keep their hands in pockets, as their ‘grooming’ rules are less enforced. Because they can)

Always carry things with left hand (and ”southpaws” must learn to use standard right-handed weapons)

** Know how to clean house and keep it organized (may choose not to out of uniform)

** Can make bed and shower fast

Organize clothes to be able to dress and maneuver their own space in pitch black (Navy specifically)

Know how to sew basic repairs (i.e. a button)

Layout items before packing. Tight roll clothes. Pack efficiently

** Can read maps effectively, may prefer them to a GPS, use landmarks

Deadlines not always considered concrete (There is a military mantra, “Hurry up and wait.” Often one would be told to complete something or arrive somewhere at a certain time, but nothing would happen due to someone else’s task meant to be finished earlier still being incomplete)

** Alternatively (or in tandem), arrive 5-30 minutes early to every event

Things kept packed securely in the car, “ready for sea” and “heavy rolls” (Navy specifically)

Routines and Social

** Respect for the “Other” or “Them” - other religions, cultures, races, and ethnicities - had to work crammed together with a diverse group that may have strongly opposing viewpoints, and learn to trust each other to have their backs in dangerous situations (For many, military is their first real experience with different cultures and beliefs)

* Respect ≠ Like. Will go above and beyond for a respected leader, even if they are disliked

Deeply suspicious of red tape, bureaucracy, and bosses on power trips, and will only do the minimum required for these

** Low tolerance for slacking/job skirting

* Volunteer other people for tasks, and willing to be volunteered for things

Don’t ask people to do things they aren’t willing to do themselves

Still follow orders of bosses they dislike. Still have the backs of coworkers they dislike

** Like clear orders, responsibilities, chain of command, and penalties

* Have Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C

Actions matter more than ceremony; definite respect for processions, but excessive reverence for the flag/anthem/etc viewed as posturing rather than true patriotism

High tolerance for boredom

** Adaptable, high stress tolerance, work efficiently, self reliant

** Avoid having their back to an opening (windows/doors/etc) or sitting anywhere someone can sneak up on them from

* Avoid loud, crowded areas, check perimeters, barricade doors, sleep last in a group (may coincide with PTSD)

Always walk on the right side of a road/grocery aisle/etc

Stand at parade rest, walk cadence, walk fast

* Walk quietly, even in boots, sneak quickly (military crouch run)

De-escalation in violence - in protective armed situations the standard is: 1) multiple warnings, 2) warning shots, 3) shoot to incapacitate. Shoot to kill is a last resort. (not following these steps could get an ally or potential ally killed) In verbal disagreement, resolve an issue before it escalates

* Wariness toward and tendency to feel Other’ed by civilians

* Immediate acceptance toward other military, expectation of shared values

Vernacular

Observe before speaking in a situation, only speak if it seems significantly important to

Refer to people as “Sir” or “Ma’am”

Giving out nicknames

** Speak directly, make direct eye contact (sometimes comes off as rude, often intimidates)

* Don’t take criticism or disagreement personally, expect others not to, either, and will point out flaws even to superiors (but again, orders are respected)

** Clear communication, acknowledge messages by replying, even if that’s just a thumbs up or down

** Swearing. Lots of swearing. Every other word is swearing

** Dark sense of humor, and racist/sexist jokes - not indicative of individual’s actual belief system or violent tendencies

Unbothered by angry yelling, angry quiet people are more concerning

** Point with ‘knife hands’, not just a single finger

** Use a 24 hour clock instead of a 12 am/pm; i.e. 0800 hours, not 8am (Called ”Military Time” in the US) 

Describe locations by o’clock directions, i.e. dog standing at 6 o’clock

* Write out dates as day-month-year (US usually does month-day-year) i.e. 21Oct57

** Use phonetic alphabet to spell things out, or at least have it memorized

** Habitually use military terms or sayings, including:

Good to go - Mission ready, ready to proceed

Squared away - Compliment indicating exemplary service

Popping a smoke - Need to get out of here [From using smoke grenades to call helicopters for extraction]

“Sir yes sir” [A ‘sir sandwich’] 

FUBAR - F*cked up beyond all recognition

SNAFU -  Situation normal, all f*cked up

TARFU -  Things are really f*cked up

BOLO - Be on the lookout

ATL - Attempt to locate

IAW - In accordance with

Civilian - Non-military person

Roger - Message received and understood

“Say again your last.” - What?

Firearm- Gun

Ruck - backpack

March - walk

Double time - running

PT - working out

Rally point - meetup

Field day - Spring Cleaning (Navy specifically)

Get smoked - Laps, pushups, etc as punishment

[sparklingsin]

(push your heart, and pull away); - VII

summary for series: you’ve got yourself in a predicament that involves fake dating the star employee of your company (who you might have feelings for), all to convince your family that you’re finally happy, after what happened with your last shot at love. can you, the CEO of a booming business, your family’s darling daughter pull off the biggest lie you’ve ever told? [inspired by The Spanish Love Deception by Elena Armas.]

tags and warnings: female reader, non-descript wedding, smut, lots of smut! !MDNI!

a/n: 5k words // i am really really sorry for putting this chapter out so late but life was a bit rough in the middle. i hope the smut makes up for it <33

catch up here: series masterlist

CHAPTER VII

Waking up to a dull headache and the shrill ringing of your alarm should have prepared you for what was going to follow today.

Tom hadn't slept in your hotel room last night. He had taken you to the room after your talk in the alley and given you aspirin to help you sleep. You had blacked out as soon as your head had hit the pillow.

You changed into a shirt and jeans slowly, trying to ignore the ache in your temple. It was easy because your mind kept drifting to last night. To everything Tom had said and done.

Because when I finally kiss you, it will be the furthest thing from pretending.

You had been drunk, sure, but the words had been seared into your mind. Your heart raced every time you pictured Tom saying this. Every time you thought about him fulfilling his promise. 

Packing the dress and heels you were going to wear at the ceremony into a bag, you trudged towards the elevator and pressed the button to Betty’s floor. All the girls were getting dressed in her suite and you’d volunteered to help her out while Tom helped your brother even though you were a groomswoman.

You decided to text Tom, the racing thoughts in your mind getting the better of you. 

Where are you? 

Also, the fact that you really wanted to see him didn't help. 

Didn't see you in the morning…

"I can't find my something borrowed," Betty exclaimed as soon as you walked into her suite. She was standing in her bathrobe, a frantic look in her eyes, make-up half done.

You dropped your bag onto the dressing table and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Betty, breathe. Where did you last put it?" you asked calmly.

"In my red suitcase."

All of her bridesmaids were trampling around the room, trying to find the missing piece of good fortune. You found her red suitcase and carefully went through its contents. The blue scrunchie was buried in between some makeup kits and you yanked it out with a triumphant look on your face.

“I swear it wasn’t there before!” Betty said and you could only smile. You couldn't imagine how stressed Betty must be feeling.

You helped her zip into her dress as her makeup artist bustled around, and one of the other bridesmaids' fed her a sandwich. Just then, you heard the sound of a notification on your phone go off and you rushed to check it.

Was with your brother and the boys, groom stuff

See you soon, gorgeous

Gorgeous. Your heart fluttered at the word. No, it wasn’t just an attempt at fake flirting. He meant to call you that.

Perhaps you wouldn't actually see him until after the ceremony but your heart raced nevertheless. What would you do when you actually saw him? Would you find him in the crowd? And… Would he kiss you in front of everyone?

Slipping into your red dress and slingbacks, you could almost feel Tom beside you— his long lean fingers trailing over your arm, chin settling onto your shoulder. Just the thought made your breath hitch and expand in your chest.

Focus, Y/N.

You checked yourself in the mirror. You were ready, for whatever this evening was about to throw at you.

The venue was something out of a fairytale. 

A high platform had been set up on the beach, close to the tide; the decor a tasteful mix of pastel pink and gorgeous white. Golden lights were strung over the area in the form of a canopy, and the setting sun made everything look heavenly. 

In the distance, the villas of Santorini had started to light up, small pecks of gold blinking to life on the hillside.

The scene made you feel warm and fuzzy.

Guests had already begun seating, as you stood by your brother, waiting for Betty to walk down the aisle. But your eyes only searched for Tom in the crowd.

Just as the noise died down and people began to settle in their seats, announcing the arrival of Betty, your eyes landed on Tom. Your eyes zeroed in on his brown ones, and the world fell to oblivion. He looked beautiful, in his sharp grey suit and a white unbuttoned shirt. But the most beautiful of all was his smile, the happy smile that was directed at you and only you. You felt your heart float inside your chest and your knees buckled.

The whole affair was beautiful. Ned cried twice during and the kiss was something out of a romance movie. You couldn't help the tears that formed in your eyes at the sight of your overjoyed brother. Being in love was special and you were glad he'd found someone.

Your gaze found Tom and his stunning smile again and you realised, just maybe, you had too.

When the ceremony ended and the guests showered the couple with golden pink confetti, holding golden sparkles as they made their way towards the white yacht that waited for them at the shore, you found yourself once again searching for the man that wouldn't leave your mind.

He was already waiting for you by the last row of the chairs, hands in the pockets of his grey pants. He lifted his head as you approached, eyes raking over your body and drinking you in. Your heart could have stumbled right out of your throat. 

You stopped in front of him just as he took a step towards you. He looked you up and down again, throating working as he took you in.

"I think red might become my favourite colour now."

You felt your cheeks heat up, feeling it fan across your neck and chest. 

"You look amazing as well," you said, reaching for his arm and wrapping your fingers around it. The smile didn't leave his face, it only grew wider.

The tension was palpable. There was much you wanted to say, and you could sense that Tom wanted to too. But somehow, the words swirled and vanished in your mind, leaving a blank canvas that only had the word Tom on it. If he continued to look at you like that even a second longer…

"Shall we go?" he asked, breaking the silence and gesturing back to the yacht, where the reception was going to be held. 

You nodded, still searching for your voice. Smiling, you let him guide you towards the boat. Maybe you’d talk to him once the dance was over.

The deck had been decorated much like the venue of the wedding. Only now, small tables were set up around an open area on the floor, where your brother and Betty had already taken the stage.

You and Tom took the last table that had some unoccupied seats. Unfortunately for you, it also was where aunt Pam was seated. You tried to ignore her, this beautiful evening too precious to be tainted by her presence. Tom’s hand pressed to the small of your back at once, rubbing it reassuringly.

"Lord be praised," she exclaimed as she noticed you, putting on that fake smile again. "You look so good together!" 

You shot back a smile, leaning in closer to Tom, wishing you could just somehow disappear into him and away from her. 

"I hope this lasts longer than your last try," she added and the world turned a little darker. You felt your body heat up and your chest heave. Her nerve.

But Tom's fingers squeezed your own, silently asking you to turn toward him. His gaze was warm and comforting. Relax, they seemed to say. I’ve got you. 

You couldn’t help but lose yourself a little in them, your heart rate returning to normalcy.

You turned to face your aunt then, letting Tom’s hand anchor you. 

"I hope so too, Auntie," you said, finding your zen. You gave her the most genuine smile you could muster as she continued to give you her toothy grin. 

"I hope so too,” you repeated— to Tom this time, and a smile broke his face, thumb caressing your hand. He was gazing at you with so much pride and warmth, that it made everything else seem small and unimportant.

You had to tear your gaze away from him to look at your brother and his bride. They were slow dancing, heads resting against each other’s and a giddy expression on their faces. It made you tear up with joy. Tom squeezed your hand and brought his chair closer to yours, letting you rest your head against his shoulder. There was so much unspoken between you two at the moment, yet you felt comfortable with him like this.

It just fit.

They danced for a while and you found yourself looking back at Tom once again. His eyes were already on yours, and it made your cheeks heat up a little. 

Tom turned his face towards your ear then, voice dropping low.

"Let's get out of here," he said and your heart burst inside your chest, mind racing with the possibilities.

He pulled you up and behind him, manoeuvring through the yacht, taking you to God knows where. It didn't matter, though; you would go where he led you. 

Finally, Tom came to a stop in front of a small unlocked room that looked like it was for storing supplies. You stepped in, Tom following behind wordlessly, locking the door after him.

It was small but not claustrophobic. Shelves stacked upon shelves had bed sheets and other supplies for the boat and you could smell the faint mahogany along with the scent of fabric softener.  

You could barely gather yourself before Tom crowded you against the wall and your heartbeat soared. His body angling against yours, he let his thigh slot between yours as he leaned into you, breath hot on your face. His features were dark, unlike the normal warm you were used to.

"Hi," you squeaked lamely but your heart was beating so fast, you could hear it behind your eyes.

Tom gazed at you, his chest rising deeply against yours. His eyes searched your face, sweeping down your nose and falling to your lips and staying there.

Was it not for Tom's firm grip on your waist, holding you in place, you would've slipped to the floor.

"Ask me why I didn't sleep in our room last night," he whispered, still not taking his eyes off of your lips. 

Somehow, you knew the answer to that question, but you wanted to hear him say it.

"Why didn't you sleep in our hotel room?" you asked coyly.

Tom's other hand found your face, coming to cup your cheek gently. He let his thumb brush across your lower lip and you let out a huff of breath.

"It took a lot out of me to not kiss you last night," he said, as he moved to your left cheek and pressed his lips there.

Your breath hitched.

"If I would've slept beside you," he pressed a kiss to your other cheek and you melted, "I would not have been able to control myself."

The admission sent a fury of shivers down your spine, eliciting a whimper out of you. 

"I have been waiting for this for so long," he made a sound akin to a low growl and you felt heat pool low in your stomach.

His mouth moved to your eyelids that had shut, breath stilling. It hovered there, before it moved to kiss your chin, then your neck and back to your jaw.

Your hands curled into his shirt and you pulled him closer until his entire body was touching yours. You could feel every muscle, warm and hard and soft under his clothes and you found yourself aching for him.

"Tom," you whispered, pure want pouring out your lips, and you realised this was the first time you'd said his name to him out loud.

Tom must have realised this too because he stilled over you. He peered deep into your eyes, exhaling slowly.

"I meant what I said… you'll know this is real," he said firmly, eyes darker than you'd ever seen them. His hands moved to your neck, every so slightly tilting your face towards him.

Before you could even appreciate the way his hands felt on your skin, his lips had captured yours.

He was kissing you, Tom was actually kissing you. Your lips opened, drawing him in as he took everything you gave him, body molding to fit around yours in the small space.

It was soft for only the briefest moment before he was devouring you, hands frantically wandering down your chest and then finding your hips.

It made you moan into his mouth and it only fueled him more, as he tilted his face and pushed in further, drinking you in.

He was everything you had wanted and more. His lips were soft yet unforgiving, consuming you in a way that made you feel weightless.

Your heart chanted his name, as your hands slipped under his half unbuttoned shirt, nails dragging along the hard lines of his collarbone. You moaned again as his grip on your waist tightened and Tom drew back.

"Fuck, baby," he panted, "You're killing me."

You pulled him into yourself again. It wasn't enough. You needed more, more of him, over you, under you, around you, inside you— everywhere.

In one swift motion, he pulled one of your legs up and around his waist, lips finding yours again. 

His body pushed into you further, and you felt the hot and hard press of his length against your thigh. Every inch of your body was set ablaze.

"Shit," he cursed, as he pushed against you once more, making you see stars behind your eyes. His lips captured yours again, muffling the moans as he continued to rock his hips into you. Desperate; his motions felt as desperate as you felt against his weight, moaning and mewling into his mouth at every press of his solid body.

"I need you," you croaked, finding that mountain of bliss growing inside you and God you wanted him to take you whole.

Tom halted at that, all his motion coming to a sudden stop. 

"I can't fuck you here, darling," he said, and maybe because you didn't hear him curse a lot, the filthy word only spurred you on. You ground up at him, pouting.

"Why not?" you asked breathily and he succumbed to kissing you again.

"The first time I make you cum isn't going to be a quick fuck against a wall," he exhaled, slowly and hesitantly pushing himself off of you. You immediately grieved the loss of his body, feeling cold and exposed in the tiny room. 

You wanted him bad.

He straightened the strap of your dress that had fallen off and his own shirt. You let him steady you, but you were still disappointed and you didn't hide it as your mouth contorted into a frown. He noticed your disapproval and leaned down to kiss you again, fingers finding your chin. He wiped the pout clean off your face.

Some part of you was soaring again.

"C'mon," he said, extending his hand. "Your family must be looking for you."

You ditched his hand and instead reached for his arm, letting yours loop through his. 

You were feeling a little crestfallen but it wasn't like Tom was going anywhere. Besides, the kiss was enough to keep you on your toes for the rest of the day.

Real.  

All through the dance and the dinner after, you let your mind wander to the kiss you'd just shared and how it had made you feel. It wasn't just the kiss, it was Tom's entire being, his warm smile, his hand currently resting on your thigh, the way he fed you the dinner off of his plate.

It was all real.

He didn't do it because people were watching, he did it because he wanted to. And that made your heart grow three sizes.

As you walked back to your hotel room as the day dissolved into darkness, occasionally exchanging shy glances with Tom in the elevator, you put everything— every doubt, every reservation away and focused on the night ahead.

Tonight was yours and Tom's. 

The room was colder than you had left it, the chilly breeze of the midnight air flowing in through the French windows of the balcony.

You threw yourself up on the bed, feeling the ache from the dancing grow in your limbs. You were exhausted alright, but your skin also tingled with curiosity. You were finally alone with Tom, away from the chaos, from everything. Just you and him.

You watched Tom uncuff his suit and place the links on the dresser table. He finally turned his attention to you and for some reason, smiled fondly.

"You seem exhausted, Y/N," he said, coming to stand over you. He brushed your hair aside, gently letting his finger trail down your cheek. You looked up at him, relishing in the hills that rose up on your skin at his touch.

"Do you want me to get you something?" he asked.

Always taking care of you. 

"Thomas Holland, you are spoiling me," you said, a grin spreading across your face.

He smiled, before handing you a bottle of water from the mini-fridge. You took it gratefully.

"I like looking out for you," he said. So simple, so sincere.

You tilted the bottle to your lips. You followed Tom’s eyes that moved away from your own and trailed down your throat. He removed his suit coat, not taking his eyes off as you continued to drink, cheeks heating with every sip.

Thoughts, from not hours ago, started to race in your head again. The words of his silent promise of wanting to take you somewhere better, filled your mind. Everything else faded, just the ache for his touch coursed and burned through you.

You ducked then, feeling heat rise up your neck and cheeks and fiddled with the straps of your heels that were starting to dig into your skin to distract yourself.

"Here," Tom said, voice sounding heavy. "Let me."

You watched him bend before you, delicately taking your foot in his hand and unstrapping the heel. He did the same with your other foot, before letting his finger trail up the length and gently massaging your ankle.

Relief shot through your system, mixed with something else— the rush from the thoughts that now flooded your mind.

Tom looked up at you then, eyes a dark dark brown and that did it for you. It ripped you wide open and left you wanting.

"C'mere," you whispered, words a mere croak. 

Tom shifted on his heels, pulling himself closer to you on his knees and slotting himself between your thighs. 

You let your hands fist into his shirt and dragged him closer.

"Baby," he began, voice impossibly soft.

Baby. That word did unspeakable things to you.

"We don't have to do it tonight if you're exhausted," he whispered. His tenderness, the way he seemed to care about only you, the way he put you first— it only fueled you.

You couldn't not want it.

Want him.

"I want you, Tom," you whispered and that was all he needed to hear.

He crashed his lips into yours, hands snaking around your waist and pushing you onto the bed. You moaned at the feeling of his heavy body pressing into yours, every point of contact scorching.

Your eyes fluttered shut as Tom moved his lips to your neck, body sliding down your front. Your breath hitched when his fingers found the zipper on the side of your dress and slowly pulled it down. 

He was teasing you, being agonizingly slow on purpose, tormenting you but in a way that set your heart thrumming.

His fingers found the straps of your dress then, just as you hooked one of your legs around his waist. He pulled the straps down, tantalisingly slow, as the cool breeze from the window rushed to brush across the exposed skin of your breasts.

"Tom," you whimpered as his mouth latched onto one of your nipples, hands continuing to push the dress off of you slowly. 

Your mind blanked as Tom's tongue swirled around your nipple, flicking it, adding to the growing pool of heat in your belly.

Tom tugged at the dress that had pooled around your hips and you lifted them, helping him slide the dress off of you. He precariously tossed it to the floor.

You were almost bare under him now, all too aware that he was taking in your form, hands continuing their ministrations against your thighs.

You watched his throat work as his gaze traveled down your body. You felt hot.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed and his eyes glazed over with something raw and animalistic. Your heartbeat surged and you had to bite your lip to keep from whimpering.

He bent over you once again, his mouth finding the valley between your breasts. He moved down slowly, leaving a wet trail in his wake and you let your hands weave through his hair as he approached the area you wanted him at the most.

"Open up for me, darling," he said, and you couldn't help but oblige, opening your legs up to him. 

A moan tore from your body as Tom's soft fingers found their way to the fabric over your folds and rubbed exploratively.

"You're so wet already," he rasped, and that made you twitch against his fingers— that were teasing you and making you whimper.

You wanted him to touch you, not the stupid fabric but you.

"All this, just for me," he said softly and you whimpered your agreement, arching against his fingers.

"So needy," he added, voice lowering even further and any sensible thought in your mind exited. He slowly quickened his pace, still rubbing you through the fabric and you felt your stomach tighten.

You felt light-headed, as he pulled you up further and further, pushing you closer to that sweet sweet bliss until— until he stopped.

Your eyes flickered open at the loss of his fingers, a dull ache echoing in your core.

On his knees, you watched as he unbuttoned his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. You eyed him hungrily, taking in his glistening skin and toned chest as he positioned himself in front of you again, head dipping. 

All of him, just for you.

"Is this okay, love?" he asked, as he slid your panties off and dropped his face to your core so that his voice vibrated through your very existence. Setting you churning again. 

You could only grab at his curls in answer before the world exploded. Tom's tongue dove into your folds, spreading your juice expertly. His other hand kneaded your breast, and a million sensations blossomed over your being. You could feel his tongue move around your clit, pushing and circling, making you see galaxies you'd only dreamed of. For so long it had only been your fingers, but now you didn't know if you could ever go back. His tongue fucked you slow and long, pulling you back towards the edge in no time.

Your head spun and you moaned, Tom's name tumbling out of your mouth in a heated moan. Stars burst behind your eyes as you climaxed as you gripped at Tom's hair with all your life.

His tongue only stopped once you had ridden your high, heart rate slowing down.

You managed to open your eyes then, just as Tom extracted himself from you. Your eyes met his brown ones, drinking in his handsome, slightly flushed face. You could see your cum mixed with his spit glistening on his plump lips and the sight sent you into overdrive.

You pulled him into you, crashing your lips into his. Salty. You could taste yourself on his lips, and your core throbbed again.

You let Tom guide you to the center of the bed, as you continued to kiss, your head dropping into the pillow as he pressed into you, kissing you wholly. 

Your hands wandered down his torso, memorizing every dip and curve to memory. His hard lines, his soft edges, his bones. He was perfect, so incredibly perfect. You kissed his lips, his jaw and his neck, every touch confirming just how much of this was real.

You were aware of his hardened length pressing against your core through his pants and the beginnings of another orgasm rippled through you as he pressed deeper into you.

"Tell me what you want," Tom grunted, teeth biting and pulling into your lips, his desperation getting the better of him.

"Want you, baby," you begged into his mouth and Tom let out a strangled growl. So primal, so hot. You wanted to feel him inside you, take everything he had to give and hope to give it right back.

You dragged your nails across his front as he lifted himself off of you, wordlessly giving you the green light. You quickly unbuttoned his pants and he kicked them off, leaving him in his boxers.

You hesitated, letting your hands trail across the hem of his underwear. This was real. And you wanted it all. Real. But God, it was Tom and —

"What's wrong, baby?" Tom asked, eyebrows knitting. You were spiraling. You looked back into his eyes, which were starting to show signs of concern and you shook yourself.

Oh, how you hated troubling him.

You reached up, and kissed him once more. You were not going to let your head win this time.

You tugged at his boxers, not taking your eyes off of him and he helped you chuck them off.

There he was, leaning over you, bare and all yours. Yours. For a moment, you were enraptured by him and his length, hard and leaking. 

Just for you.

Your fingers circled him, giving him a shy stroke and Tom hissed above you.

"Need you," you said quietly and apparently Tom couldn't wait anymore either. He sat up before reaching for his pants and extracted something from the back pocket.

You watched, captivated, as he rolled the condom onto his length and gave it a pump. Then another.

Breath hitching, you waited as he positioned himself before your entrance, hands digging into your sides.

He kissed you again and then he was moving into you.

Your blood swirled as he buried himself into you, stretching you open deliciously. You moaned, feeling blissfully full just as Tom cursed.

"Fuck, baby," he grunted, hands sliding to your thighs and pushing your legs around his hips. "You feel so good."

His hips rocked into yours, finding that perfect angle and you moaned again, feeling yourself clench around him as if even this was not enough. 

More. You wanted more.

"You're going to be the death of me," Tom whispered into your ear as he moved again, sliding back into you. Your hands moved to his hair, pulling him up for a kiss.

Adjusting to you finally, Tom slowly quickened his pace, hips slotting between your thighs in a perfect rhythm. You began to move against him too, letting yourself be pushed towards the edge once more.

He moved perfectly into you and you felt the addicting pleasure build up slowly. You could feel him all around you, inside you and everywhere and nothing had ever felt better than being in his arms like this. 

You howled when he abandoned his rhythm all together. He moved faster and deeper now, nails digging into your sides as you threw your arms around his neck. Your eyes fluttered shut, breath hitching and your entire being burned.

You were approaching that blissful high, waves of pleasure rippling through your body as Tom continued to thrust into you. 

Then, with a final thrust and a scream of his name, you were lifted into paradise, all your strength seeping out of you as you went limp under Tom's motions. Grunting your name, Tom came too, his cock pulsing inside of you as his movement became erratic. 

His grip on you loosened and you fell onto the pillows, feeling like you were sinking and being lifted all at once. You rode out your highs together, Tom's body settling delightfully into yours.

God, you hadn't felt this good in years.

Slowly and eventually, Tom pulled out of you and disappeared to the bathroom. You were still light-headed, your heart was racing at a million miles but hell, if it didn't feel right.

Tom returned with a damp cloth and helped you clean up and you couldn't help but feel warm as he settled beside you, pulling you into his side and kissing your neck.

"You okay?" he asked softly, kissing you on the cheek. You hummed against his chest, feeling so incredibly loved up, you couldn't form a coherent thought.

You lost yourself in his brown eyes, his curls and then found yourself in the dip of his lips, before losing yourself in the lines of his chest again. 

How was he so perfect?

"Can I ask you something?" you asked once your brain had started responding to you.

Tom pulled you even closer, before kissing the top of your head.

"Of course."

"Were you just carrying around that condom all day?" you asked. There were a million other things you could have said instead but your love-addled brain wasn't cooperating.

Tom chuckled, his hand settling against your jaw. He let his thumb brush against your lower lip and you melted like butter in his embrace.

"I was. Don't trust myself with you."

"You don't have to anymore. I trust you enough for the both of us," you said, reaching up to kiss him coyly.

The corners of his lips tugged into a sleepy smile. "Careful, L/N, I might take you up on that," he said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

"I'm counting on it, Holland," you said, feeling that lull of slumber call to you.

You didn't know when sleep claimed you but your last thought was that you would wake upto those beautiful, brown eyes tomorrow and that was all that mattered.

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