#i promise that when i have a sad girl hour on this blog i am not fishing. that is simply one of my Primary Modes of Being.

[wetcatspellcaster]

Okay, so you said positive reinforcement helps with your writing, so buckle up. "Pieces"-- Literally the level of writing I aspire to be at. It's SO. WELL. DONE. Including the latest chapter and I'm sure the rest will be amazing, too. "Party Favours"-- my number one comfort fic of all time. I go back and reread it CONSTANTLY, any time I need a bit of a pick-me-up. Also the kiss scene in the hallway is THE HOTTEST THING I HAVE EVER READ IN MY LIFE. "Bleeding Heart"/ "An Honest Lie"-- You write Rosalie with so much love that it has made ME love her (so much so that I'm a little like "move over Astarion, she's out of both of our leagues but I know how to treat her right") and I reread chapters all the time. The dialogue alone is top notch. Lastly, I mean, I know NOTHING about Dragon Age or Shadow and Bone but I MUST LEARN so I can read the rest of your stuff. You're so incredibly talented. Every writer has their anxieties and insecurities so it's understandable and obviously valid that you have them too, but *takes you gently by the shoulders* YOU ARE SO GIFTED. And we are all super grateful for you sharing your gift with us. So thank you. So so much!

thank you anon, this message was very kind and the bit about Rosalie made me laugh - nothing like making an OC who stews in self-hate and then watch her get a line of suitors and still be like "I do not see it 😔". (and then going to therapy and my therapist staring at me meaningfully and I simply reply: "I do not see it😔".)

i appreciate the positive reinforcement. I've since realised that I got a little lost after chapter 19 of Pieces, because it was this massive plot point I'd been building up to, and while it had been really scary at the time and I felt a lot of pressure to get it right, the pressure did at least help to guide me forward and give me something to aim for. I've now got to find something new to aim for! While I know what the ending of the fic is, it's back to meandering my way to get there rather than having every single scene hammered down. Idk, I think possibly I am burned out and so things may slow down for a while? But I'm glad of the reminder that people enjoy my writing and I will hopefully have more updates for people soon xx

(also, don't learn about Shadow and Bone, don't do that to yourself, don't let netflix hurt you like that. Dragon Age is however BG3's spiritual predecessor so if you need more fantasy games with romance options you should buy it immediately x)

[vanillanaps]

My Memoir | 18+

⚡︎ Masterlist

⚡︎ Rules & Regulations

About Me

My name is Lee :) I’m 24, I’m the owner of the blog and I have no idea wtf I’m doing with my life. I came here to escape reality, talk to my anons, mutual and even myself. I’m a writer (clearly) and I’m deeply in love with Bucky Barnes (surprise surprise) This blog is really just a shit show but it’s a fun one!

Please keep in mind that I work full time as well as being in school. The fics may not come out as fast as either of us wish them to, but I’m trying my best. It’d be ideal to drop at least one fic a week on my off days, but no promises. I’m completely open to the idea of doing drabbles throughout the week/when I’m not busy. I am human and I have a life.

About my Blog

I always try to be as open and nice as I possibly can. I love talking to everyone and making new friends. I always want my blog to be a safe place where everyone can come and have fun. I swear I don’t bite, don’t be afraid to come talk!

We do not discriminate here, nor do I tolerate any bullying or shaming. Yes, there are certain topics that I don’t feel comfortable discussing or there’s things I don’t necessarily agree with, but do not think that mean my blog is a place for you to bash others. Racism, homophobia, shaming, etc is absolutely not tolerated, you will be blocked.

This is an 18+ blog, you will also be blocked if I see that you are under that age limit.

Tags you’ll be seeing often

personal ➶ - Me talking about my personal life. Mostly just random thoughts and rants

marvel chats - We talk about any and everything marvel

lee watches stuff - I live react to any movie/tv show I watch or get recommended to watch

lees nsfw things - I mean, well.

lees celebration - when I hit a new followers milestone

sad girl hours - me being sad passed the hours of 9pm.

lil nasties - for my nasty anons who likes to send me Thanos smut

[adviceformefromme]

Hey, I looove your blog, it’s really helped me take on 2023 with a lot more confidence , every post is full of gems so thank you for that! 💕💕💕 I need some help please - How do you move past feelings of shame around letting people (especially boys) treat you badly? Sometimes my mind replays moments from my past where I let a guy yell at me or put me down, and I feel so ashamed and embarrassed that I bawl my eyes out. It’s like I can’t believe that I would let someone make me feel so low and am disgusted at myself for allowing it. The positive side is that I know the reasons why I allowed it (usually fear of abandonment and desperate desire to be liked) and I’ve become a lot more firm with my boundaries since then. But sometimes when these moments replay in my head, I get so paralyzed with sadness and am mortified at the thought that this person is walking around knowing that they were able to affect me like that. It’s gotten so bad that sometimes hours pass and I’m stuck in this trance of self loathing and just disgust at myself. Any tips on how to snap myself out of it? Xoxo

'Change the I 'should have known better' to 'I now know better' and let your pain be the lesson.

Hey Sweetie, thank you so much for your kind words and I am so sorry to hear what you are going through. Believe me I have LIVED through this. I was raised and conditioned to be respectful, kind and loving towards my abuser so when I started navigating relationships I would be treated so badly but accept the behaviour and it chipped away at my confidence and self esteem so much. It hurts to think of how badly I was treated but I know with that mistreatment came strength, and power and the decision to NEVER allow myself to be mistreated ever again.

So what do you do? Do you keep beating yourself up? Putting yourself down keeping your energy in the gutter to attract more situations just like the last or do you WISE UP. Do you say no-fucking-more to this treatment from men and raise the bar. Not only for yourself but for the little girl inside you?

Do you start telling yourself that you forgive you, and you promise to protect yourself from being in the situation again or continue to chip away at your own self confidence just like these men have done?

I learnt after all the pain that I HAD to become my own best friend, my inner voice (that voice that can put you down) can actually support you, and be on your side. That I had to start making better choices not only for me, but for the little girl inside me that already lived through so much pain. As an adult are you really going to let this continue? I started listening to music that empowered me. Podcasts that empowered me. Youtubers that empowered me. I got so familiar of where I was being tripped up by these men that I got one step ahead. I LEARNT boundaries, if I was getting taken advantage of for being drunk on dates, I would only accept coffee or dinner dates. If noticed any signs of aggression or emotional instability in men I would remove myself as these are not the men for me. The word no, will become your best friend with these men. And the more you have boundaries, the more respect men will have for you.

To heal and overcome, you have to start loving yourself so much, and think of yourself as the adult caring for the little girl inside you. Would you allow anyone or anything to hurt the little version of you inside? Make today be your fresh start. Where you say no to the broken record in your mind putting you down, you say no to reliving the past. I also recommend going to the book store and finding a book that resonates with you on your healing journey. I remember reading Untethered Soul by Michael A Singer that really changed my whole thinking, but there will be a book for you. When the student is ready, the teacher will appear. Sending you love and light, DMs are always open if you need anything extra. xoxoxox

[renticat]

periwinkle

oh, so it's like that. Damn I just sent someone my private post and tbh I am never do that, it's.my first time and... I checked the url is not valid when the private post it's still on my blog. Turned out the url keeps changing for every other hour I guess to minimize the risk of it being share.over and over? So you have to open it immediately but who has got that much time? Yeah I mean even message here have no notifications unless you're opening your tumblr everyday like me, just to rant. No I mean open it and look for the memes cause I don't use Instagram anymore.

This makes me feels sad but also relief, lol yeah this paradoxes of wanting to be seen but also shy, idk I guess I am afraid they misunderstood me but who am I to tell people what to think duh, they can think whatever they want but still it's sad. This is the girl that just ditch me when I thought it was great I mean it's probably because of my profile pic on my telegram cause I don't see fucking any other answer and yeah that's so shallow but it's great then she did not t just sweettalking me and left the first thing when see me as unfit for even being friend.

No wonder this world is so messed up. Talking about red flags when everyone has them. Jumping from people to people when they see slight discomfort. Promising about forever when they can't even last a week. Wait but you said you relieved? Well doesn't mean that it's not hurts though.

It's because of you. Yeah it's true cause I don't participate in their lies anyway, I can but then for what. They just want someone that put together when I thought someone needs another person because we're lacking in some stuff and we complete each others. Is not like that. They want someone that is as good as they're imagined but without the effort to be that kind of person to me. I mean why do I have to put so much effort when they don't even do the same?

And why I keep saddens by this fact? Well I guess I always thought someone new might be different but alas it's all gonna end in tears after all.

I guess the video did not make it, I record but then the camera apps acting crabby so yeah it's not saved. But this will do. Lol talking like she ever cared when it's not the case anymore.

Sooo much 🌻🌻🌻🌻 but they're far away I usually pluck one put for me, well okay I am not a murderer, they're gonna wither away whether I do that or not but okay maybe I am cruel wanting to keep your beauty for myself.

[elizainjapan]

June 20th- Osaka Day Trip

It’s the end of an era. I wanna be Nico soooo bad, so I might be getting a little sad in this blog post. I’m not ready for this trip to be over. I’m excited to go home and see my friends, but I think that the adjustment will be very difficult. I’m going to miss the pure joy I feel when I see a trash can, the absolute rush I feel when I see paper towels in the bathroom, and the full surge of adrenaline when trying to find 100 yen coins in my coin purse. But in all seriousness, I’m going to miss my friends. I really like these people, and it’s going to suck going back home, saying something dumb like “what is blue waffling about”, and then have to explain why it’s funny to me. This is my written statement that, if I see anyone from this trip at a bar, I’ll buy them a drink. In memory of Kitsune. Japan really is a once-in-a-lifetime trip, and I have to keep telling myself that, because I’m learning Japanese, I have to come back. Yeah everyone says that studying abroad changes their life whatever, but I kinda sorta get it now. I know that I need to live in Japan someday. Anyway, I’m kinda sad. Here’s what I did in Osaka today:

I woke up and skipped breakfast for old-times sake. I really needed that stability in my life because we are leaving so soon. Apparently today was the day that Sam emailed her Fukata photos to herself on the train?? I guess I mixed up the days even though that isn’t possible because I always do my blog posts on time and I am a great student. Anyway, she promised to buy me a treat, and I have yet to have gotten a treat. Once we got to Osaka, we broke for lunch. I had chicken katsu with Nico, Raj, Aulora, Visnu, Sam, and Xander, and it was absolutely amazing. We met back up and walked to Osaka castle. I’m glad we didn’t have to climb it, but Professor did say there was an elevator, so I would’ve been ok. Next we took the train to American Village, which was just Tokyo with more vintage shops. Professor led us to some cool stops, including the famous Glico advertisement. Shortly after the tour around the Village, we were dismissed for the day. There was a lot of big talk about going out, bar hopping, and taking the 5am train back to Kyoto. I very excited since it was our last full night all together! Me, Chelsea, and Casey went to a bunch of thrift stores, and we were intermittently joined by Nico, Raj, and Aulora. I got a super cute top and my new favorite pair of overalls. We decided to go to the Osaka Team Labs too to see the botanical garden. It was a little better than mid only because I got to push these huge eggs around, and I knocked down a couple of Japanese girls. That was fun for me. The whole area was pretty cool though, and afterwards, Chelsea and Casey RAN to a dinner place. I had already eaten, and when I checked my phone, there were not many trains left back to Kyoto. At this point, we all decided that a drunk UNO night was more our speed. I got a little nervous because of all the train delays, so Sebastian, Nico, and I decided to split off and go home. We listened to some Twenty One Pilots as we walked to the station which was nice. Once we were home, I decided that I was going to rest my eyes, but then I woke up 7 hours later, so no drunk UNO. I was relieved to hear that everyone did the same.

Anyways, I’m gonna miss this. Konbanwa.

Academic Reflection-

I had zero knowledge of Osaka’s urban planning prior to this reading. That was Vishnu’s area of expertise, so I let him take the wheel for most of the trip. If I’m being honest, I though Osaka, Kyoto, Nara, and Kobe were basically the same place prior to our excursions, and I was also under the impression that Hiroshima wasn’t too far either. I was proven wrong by my 2 hour Shinkansen ride. I will admit that Osaka was very unique, and there were times that I could’ve mistaken it for Times Square. Seeing someone dressed up as Spiderman taking pictures and people busking, I was convinced we were in the wrong place. Especially since Kyoto is just one rice field and doesn’t have electricity.

The high-rise building through my off-guard too. As we walked, there were malls, luxury stores, businesses, and arcades with over 20 floors! This was surprised because, even in Tokyo, the buildings were relatively short. I was super surprised by how American-ized it had become. We also saw a kabuki theatre (AHHHHH) that could’ve been pulled from France.

[abimess]

A homemade white Christmas

Taylor Sloane x Reader

gif is not mine

Summary: Taylor is the best thing that ever happened in your life and from the very first day you started dating you promised yourself you would do anything for her. That includes making it snow in Los Angeles.

Warnings: none

Pronouns: not used || Word count: 1.035

As someone who lives in a place that doesn't snow, I understand you, Taylor 💔 haha I just wanted someone to do for me what reader did for her... Anyway, enough ranting haha hope you enjoy the story!

You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)

For this request I Christmas Special Masterlist I Masterlist | Library Blog

───── ⋅ ⋇ ❅ ⋇ ⋅ ─────

It's Thursday night and you and your girlfriend are snuggled up in the living room to binge-watch Christmas films. Well, at least that's what she said you guys would do an hour ago.

"And I thought we were going to watch a movie." You complain amusedly, watching Taylor take what must have been the hundredth picture of that night. The popcorn and juices, the blonde's muse, were probably cold and warm, respectively.

"You're very annoying," Taylor replies rolling her eyes. Not surprising you one bit at that point, she prepares to take another one.

"And you're very-" you start to retort, but your girlfriend's glare directed at you makes you change your mind, "within your rights to do whatever you want, my dear." You opt for the safer option.

"That's what I thought," Taylor says with a smile, pecking your lips briefly before turning her attention back to the photo and you chuckle, shaking your head.

"Baby, hold that pillow for me, please." She points and you huff heavily, but comply. "Like this." She instructs, positioning your hand so that the item is in the exact place she wants. Not long after, she takes the picture.

"There. Do you think that's good?" She asks unsurely, showing you her phone, but you honestly see no difference between this one and all the others. "I hope so, it's been forty minutes."

"You're too exaggerated." She rolls her eyes playfully, but when you show her your phone so she can see that, indeed, forty minutes have passed, she shrugs. "Photography takes time."

"Yeah, I noticed." You reply with a light chuckle, leaning back on the couch again.

Luckily, that photo was finally enough for Taylor, and it wasn't long before you two finally started watching the movies.

It is in moments like these that you are sure that genuine happiness exists. With the girl of your dreams snuggled into your side, your hand playing with the locks of her hair as hers lovingly caresses the side of your body, you feel genuine peace that you are sure nothing and no one will ever be able to offer.

"God, I've always wanted this," Taylor says softly against your chest, waking you from your thoughts, and you blink your way back to the present. "What?"

"A white Christmas." She replies, pointing to the snow on the movie, and you frown. "You never had one?"

"No." She answers, raising her eyes to you, and you get lost in their brightness for a moment as they reflect the light from the TV. "Have you?"

"I used to live in New York before I moved here, it snowed all the time." You answer and she nods in understanding, a shadow of sorrow on her face that makes your insides turn, so you hasten to add, "hey, we can take a trip somewhere with snow!"

"I can't, I have that event on Saturday morning. I'll lose the sponsorship if I don't go." She replies with a sad smile and you nod, remembering the party in question.

"Well, there'll always be other opportunities, am I right?" You add the next moment, offering her a reassuring smile to which she returns with a grateful one.

"Yes, there will be." She agrees sweetly, kissing your lips before snuggling into your chest once more.

You both turn your gazes to the TV then, but while Taylor's attention remains on the movie, yours is far away.

⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅

There are no limits to the things you would do for Taylor. Whatever you could do to make her happy, you would do it without a second thought.

So, getting a fake snow-making machine was not the least bit out of reach for you.

It turns out that they are much harder to get working than you expected, and the process took almost your entire morning.

Luckily for you, Taylor was busy shooting some videos to advertise some make-up brand whose products arrived last night, so the blonde didn't even notice you were outside.

When everything is ready, the fake snow spread all over the yard, you smile proudly.

"Taylor! Get out here!" You call out, as you admire the result of your hard work around the backyard.

"What's up with you calling me by name?" The answer comes the next moment and you laugh to yourself. "Sorry, love of my life." You correct yourself amusedly, and smile when Taylor shouts from inside the house, "Better."

"Get out here!" You call out again, and when the blonde says she's working, you roll your eyes, about to go inside and get her yourself. "Come on out, woman!"

"Babe, what's so-" The question dies in Taylor's throat as she steps outside, her eyes scanning the surroundings as a stunned expression frames that beautiful face of hers.

"What's all this?" She asks softly, looking at you still in shock, and you smile excitedly. "Snow! Well, it's not exactly snow, because it would melt before I even finished setting up. It's fake snow, but it's pretty similar to real snow."

"You made all this for me?" She asks, her eyes glistening with tears as she looks around again. You smile fondly, feeling your heart warm inside your chest.

"Of course!" You reply, your hands positioning themselves lovingly on her waist, hugging her from behind, and Taylor hugs your arms in front of her, her eyes locked on the yard.

"You said you wanted a white Christmas." You say against her ear, resting your chin on her shoulder as you relish in her reaction, fulfilled. "Here it is."

"You are not real." She says spinning on her heels, a watery giggle escaping her lips as she wraps her arms around your neck, and you smile.

"I love you." She says softly, making the butterflies in your stomach fly rampant. "I love you too." You whisper before closing the distance between you, connecting your lips to hers.

And as the two of you kiss, Taylor feels on cloud nine, knowing that she can count on you to always make her days better.

───── ⋅ ⋇ ❅ ⋇ ⋅ ─────

#Day 30: 'Tis the damn season (Natasha Romanoff x Reader/ Wanda Maximoff Reader)

And that's it for today! I hope you enjoyed it, thoughts and comments are always welcome ツ

Taglist: @yuhloversxx @madamevirgo @an-evergreen-rose @helloalycia @wandas1mp @cantcontroltheirfear @diaryoflife @cristin-rjd @ensorcellme @aimezvousbrahms @natasha-danvers @purplemeetsblue @randomshyperson @peggycarter-steverogers @b0mbdotc0m @ethereal-pxradise @stephanieromanoff @tomy5girls @gingerbreadcookieforlife @imapotatao @musicinourlips @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @allfiguredout @olsensnpm @magicallymaximoff @nothing-isimpossible @mionemymind @itsmionet @xastrydx @sxfwap @nicole-rayleigh-hot @wellsayhelloaagin @midnight-lestrange @1-800-depressedlesbian @b-5by5 @blackwow34 @nervoustrack @somewhatgreatexpectations @yeetus-thyself @chelleztjs18 @franfineashell @mrromanoff (if you wanna be tagged check the form on my BIO)

[nev3rfound]

one last look : b.b

it’s the night before your wedding, but you can’t help but long to see your future husband. (1.9k)

finally a fluffy fic! this was from my other blog but i’ve made considerable changes for our boy bucky barnes. (warnings: some swearing) also requests are open so feel free to send one in!

masterlist / permanent taglist 

- i also have an etsy shop, i just released wandavision themed tshirts if you’d like to check those out! -

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)

Sitting in your room, you couldn’t stop yourself from checking your phone.

With your champagne glass in hand, you swirl the liquid around as the girls laugh loudly, causing you to zone back into the conversation. As you lift your head up, you notice them all focusing on you.

“You doing okay over there?” Wanda asks.

Nodding in response, you slide off the bed, leaving your phone behind you as you return to the conversation.

“Can you believe its come round so fast?” You turn to see the Pepper beaming, barely able to contain her excitement.

It’s true, the big day has crept up on you sooner than you had anticipated. After shy of fourteen months of planning, arguments with Tony and Steve about the decor and nearly calling it off twice you’ve made it. Tomorrow will be the day you become his wife.

“I still can’t believe I’m going to be someone’s wife.” You think aloud, a look of shock in your eyes as you gulp the last bit of champagne in your glass.

As you reach for the bottle sitting in the cooler, Natasha bats your hand away. “Not happening. I’ve been strictly instructed you’re not allowed more than two glasses tonight.”

Raising a brow to her, Natasha adamantly shakes her head. “Who told you that, Nat?” You question as you lean back against the bed, watching as the girls look to one another.

“Steve.” She quietly announces, trying to remain composed, but it is short-lived as you all stifle a laugh. “I’m being serious!” She states through a chuckle as you fall into Wanda, feeling the champagne already going to your head.

“Oh, the irony I love it.” You giggle, letting out a soft sigh as your conversations continue but you let your mind wander, thinking about Bucky just a few doors down.

*

“So you’re stuck in here?” Tony questions, looking around the large room and nods to himself. “Nod bad, I mean for the average joe.” He adds and looks back to Bucky, seeing him lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

“You’re the one who booked the hotel, Tony.” Steve reminds him, and Tony simply shrugs his shoulders.

“I just want to see her.” Bucky releases a heavy breath, thinking of you and swearing he can hear your laughter through the walls. “Just one quick hug, tell her I love her and that’s it.” Bucky suggests, forcing himself to sit upright.

Yet, he’s greeted by Steve shaking his head. “Not happening. You made Nat and I promise to not let you see each other until the big day.” He reminds Bucky who rolls his eyes. “Traditions, Buck.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky shrugs his shoulders. “I know, I know, but I also really miss her.” Bucky admits.

Despite it having only been three days since he last saw you, it’s hard to keep away from one another. Both of you are magnetic together, unable to be kept apart. It’s obvious when one misses the other as your mood changes instantly. Yet, once he’s back you’re more perky, even if it is a brief visit.

Even during missions when you're kept apart, you're always on his mind. The moment when he arrives back at the compound you're there to greet him with open arms and vice versa. You were his rock, and he was yours.

“You going to sulk all night then?” Sam questions, watching as Bucky runs his fingers through his hair. “Take that as a yes.” He mutters under his breath, noting the sadness radiating from Bucky.

After a few hours, everyone heads back to their own rooms leaving you and Bucky in your rooms alone. Knowing the coast is clear, you reach down for your phone and call him. You might not be able to see him but to hear his voice will be enough for now.

Seeing his phone light up, Bucky's instincts heighten as he grabs it, nearly crushing it in his grip as he answers. “Hey, doll.” He answers cheerfully and is greeted by a small chuckle down the line. Even the sound of your laughter is uplifting as he smiles to himself, wishing you could be in his arms.

Forcing yourself upright, you hug the pillow against your chest, wishing it could be him. “How’s your night going?” You ask him, unsure what else to say.

Bucky sighs heavily through the phone. “Rough. Steve’s been trying to keep me distracted all night.” He admits with a short laugh.

“Same with Nat, even for an assassin her distraction tactics aren’t up to scratch and Pepper just keeps going on about the finishing touches whilst Wanda nursed the champagne.” You joke, but Bucky remains quiet on the other end of the line.

Hanging his legs over the edge of the bed, Bucky notices his curtains remain ajar, illuminating the empty pool on the ground floor. “I miss you so much. And I know it’s just one more night, doll, but I just wanna give you a hug.” He tells you truthfully, and you wish he could see your bright smile that melts his cold heart.

“But traditions, Bucky,” You start, but Bucky cuts you off.

“Fuck traditions. If I want to see my future wife I doubt it’ll be the end of everything.” He states. Through the line you can hear him moving around his room, now standing in front of the window, seeing no one wandering the grounds of the hotel. “Meet me by the pool in ten, okay?”

You giggle like an excited child breaking the rules. “See you in ten.” You tell him before hanging up and rush around the room, not dissimilar to how you did before your first date all those years ago.

Natasha couldn't believe how much mess one person could make whilst getting ready, but you just wanted it to be perfect. "He's such a good guy, Nat. I don't wanna screw this one up." You tell her as you emerge from your bathroom in a simple sundress, looking up for her approval. "Well?"

Rising to her feet, Natasha reaches over for your shoes. "He'll love it, I mean he's already smitten." Natasha nudges you, hearing movement outside of your suite. "And clearly you are too."

"Shut up," You brush her comment off, but Natasha keeps her eyes on you. "okay fine." You sigh in defeat, turning on your heels as you reach across for your bag. "I like him, I mean what is there not to like? He's charming, a true gentleman and makes me laugh. Plus I mean look at him." You chuckle.

"Good enough for me." Natasha states, walking over to your door and opens it, revealing Bucky stood with wide eyes and a light blush across his cheeks. "Treat her well, Barnes." Natasha remarks as she exits your suite with a smirk on her face. 

Silently, you walk out of your room and close the door slowly behind you. Natasha is staying in the room beside yours and she promised to listen out and watch you like a hawk. Creeping down the corridor, you slip your keycard into your pocket as you reach the lift, unable to wipe the smile from your face as the doors close in front of you.

As you reach the pool, you can already see him standing there, waiting for you. “Hey, future husband.” You call out quietly, walking toward him.

Bucky turns around instantly upon hearing your voice and steps forward, wrapping his arms around you tightly, longing for the sense of comfort you always provide. “You have no idea how fucking happy I am to see you.” He mumbles into your hair as you remain in his arms, not wanting to be the one to let go first.

“Me too. I missed you.” You mutter back to him, feeling him pulling away just to see your face as he smiles at you. “Can you believe we’re getting married tomorrow?”

He raises an eyebrow, unable to stop his smile from growing at the thought. “I definitely can. Been waiting for this day since I proposed.” He thinks aloud, something you haven’t heard him say.

“Really?” You ask softly, feeling your heart-melting as he nods to you.

“Well of course,” He states as his hands slide down your arms and into your hands, intertwining your fingers with his. “I couldn’t wait for you to become my wife, for us to start this whole new journey. I just couldn’t wait until tomorrow to tell you that I love you, and always will.”

You can feel tears building in your eyes as Bucky shushes you. “I can’t help it,” You chuckle, taking one hand and wiping your eyes. “planning this has been so hard and I just want it to be perfect.” You admit, closing your eyes as a small whimper leaves your lips.

“And it will be.” Bucky reminds you, knowing how many sleepless nights you’ve had over the little details from the bridesmaids’ dresses to what cake topper you should have in between missions. Even when you were hospitalised after a mission went sideways, you had your laptop on hand to work on the invitations. “But as long as we’re together, it doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah,” You nod with a small smile. “as long as I have you, I’ll be happy.” Slowly you stand on your tiptoes, kissing him.

Your arms rise from your sides and wrap around his neck whilst his wander down to your waist, his cool metal arm sending goosebumps over your skin. As the kiss becomes more passionate both of you can’t help but crave what normally follows, but it’s one more night, you can wait.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Natasha and Steve sit in his room. “Honestly, they’re hopeless.” Natasha sighs, looking up to see Natasha nodding in response.

“Hopelessly in love, Nat.” Steve states, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and feign vomiting. “And besides, you’re the one who set them up all those years ago.”

“How was I supposed to know they’d fall in love? I was just trying to help Y/n get over her ex.” Natasha reminds Steve. “You played a role in this too, Cap.”

Steve nods. “We did good, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Natasha chuckles, raising her glass to Steve. “we did good.”

Despite the sweetness of it all, and you both being unable to keep a tradition Natasha and Steve knew they should just let you get on with it. You have a lifetime together ahead, why stop you the day before it all begins?

Pulling away, you rest your forehead against his. Both of you are slightly breathless, eyes still closed. “There will definitely be more of that to come.” You giggle, quickly pecking his lips before starting to head back inside, Bucky hot on your tail.

As you stand in the lift together, your hand remains in his. “I guess, until tomorrow, Mr Barnes.” You tell him with a smile as you take out your keycard, watching the doors of the lift open.

Walking down the corridor, Bucky’s room is first and your hand slips out of his. “Wait,” He whispers to you and you turn around, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I just wanna look at you one last time before you’re my bride.” He says with a tooth aching smile.

Slowly, you twirl for him and hold back the laughter bubbling in your throat. “How’s that?” You whisper and he nods to you.

“Goodnight, Y/n.” He whispers back before slipping into his room, locking the door behind him as you wander back to your own room and lie on the bed, unable to wipe the smile from your face.

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️(if your user isn’t tagged, it’s because nothing comes up sorry!)

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[the-pale-goddess]

hi love! i just discovered your blog and yeah, definitely, Tiffany and Ethan are one of the hottest couple I've seen around ❤️ I just love their chemistry, how much they love each other... yeah, I love them already too much.

One question, have you thought about the moment when Ethan found out about Tiff's knee injury? and how did he react? like, in general as in how it happened, the scar that she has now and the "broken dream" of becoming a professional? maybe him being sad of what happened to the love of his life but he also knows that if that never happened, they probably wouldn't have meet?

okay, this is me writing too much and i am so sorry lmao

OMG HI! 😍

Yes! The story of how Ethan finds out about the injury is included in one of the fics on my endless WIP list, but since I don’t plan on finishing it anytime soon, I’ll reply with a little HC here 💕 (who am I kidding, it's not ‘little’ because I can’t shut up lol but I’m not tagging anyone because I honestly don’t know what it is)

Before Miami, Ethan had collected some scraps of information about Tiffany—a disorganized list of details he kept at the back of his mind like pieces of a puzzle he was dying to solve.

Miami brought him the missing ones...And much more than he bargained for.

The first day of the conference was as hectic as ever, filling their schedules with lectures and presentations. Afterwards, the young doctor insisted on going out for dinner. He accepted the seemingly innocent invitation, oblivious to her secret mission: unwinding Doctor Ethan Ramsey.

She made him stop by the liquor store, then dragged him to the highly recommended pizza place nearby before they ended up on a beach, bonding over patient stories while drinking cheap champagne in plastic cups and tasting what was supposed to be the most Italian Margherita in Miami.

The conversation quickly turned personal. She opened up to him, giving him more clues, and he offered some fragments of himself in return.

Favorite food. The stories behind their names. Last vacation spot. Some memorable lessons from Naveen. The most annoying parts of med school experience.

He wanted to know everything about her, piece all those colorful tidbits together—maybe then it would make sense. Maybe then he’d understand why an intern got stuck on his mind.

Why did you become a doctor?

Tiffany’s smile dimmed for one split second as her gaze shifted to the ocean. She tried to avoid the answer, saying her backstory is lame, but he promised not to laugh her off. Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.

Her curiosity won over hesitation. Long version or short version?

The honest one.

So she told him about a little girl—a dancer. She was a natural. Her mother quickly noticed her talent and decided to put it into good use, prompting her to become the prettiest, the most praiseworthy, the absolute best destined for success.

But the girl didn’t want to be a collateral damage of her mother’s unfulfilled dreams; she wanted to find her true calling and craved to explore all the possibilities. She was eager to dance just as much as to become the smartest person in the room.

For years she obeyed, earning disapproving looks whenever she gave priority to something other than endless hours spent on learning new moves or perfecting her hover corté and chassé.

Then, one day during training, a week before the nationals, she jumped a little too early, a little too high, not giving her partner a heads-up to catch her on time. Her knee ligament was torn, shattering her efforts to defend the national championship.

Mrs Addams was convinced her daughter’s injury wasn’t an accident. Tiffany was always a wild child, showcasing her independence in the most infuriating way. What if she did this on purpose to quit dancing?

The unfair accusation crushed her heart, but not her spirit.

A month after the surgery she was back in training. The doctors didn’t recommend such a drastic shift from the recovery, but Felicity was willing to take the risk.

And Tiffany was determined to prove to her mother that she was just a victim of bad luck. That she didn’t mean to hurt herself.

Her moves were slower, sloppier, painful. She didn’t mean it before, but maybe she meant it now. Every step was a torture, but she had to be perfect again. So she danced until she couldn’t stand anymore and her knee refused to work. The damage was irreversible and no surgery she had gone through could fix it.

Ethan listened to the story with a deep frown and usettling feeling tugging at his heartstrings. His fingers swept through the sand mere centimeters away from Tiffany’s thigh and he cursed himself for even thinking of touching her. Comforting her. Telling the little girl she’s enough, she’s her own person, she doesn’t have to prove anything to anyone.

So that was my moment. I promised myself I’ll become a healer and try to fix all things broken and helpless.

He asked if it still hurt, and she nodded. Said she got used to the uncomfortable tingling and lifted her flimsy dotted dress a little to show him the scar. His fingers dug into the sand to help him hide from his thoughts.

How about the other one?

The other one? Her mouth fell open in confusion. A second later she pursed her lips and sent him a smirk. I‘ve learned to live with it.

And the hole in his heart was a proof of how it’s done—how grief could become a weapon.

Thank you. For trusting me with your story.

Thank you for listening to me.

With a wide smile, she finished her champagne, her piercing emerald eyes never leaving his. Just like the story about a little girl and the long, rough path she was thrown into.

The path that brought her to him.

___

Present tense E&T don’t revisit the painful past too often, but ever since Miami, Ethan has always been mindful of the injury and even though Tiffany assures him that she never saw her future as a professional dancer, he knows that deep down she misses the thrill of it all. So whenever she’s up for slow dancing, he is too. Felicity Addams is a topic for a different conversation ksgsgksv

Sorry it got so long, I just couldn’t stop writing kfjkdjgk Hope you enjoyed reading it anyway!

___

Darling, you have no idea how much happiness you brought me with this lovely message! I still smile whenever I think about it ❤️ The fact that you paid attention to this little detail made me tear up, thank you for thinking about me and my babies 🥰

I’m so moved that you adore E&T so much! Pleaseeee, never apologize for being the sweetest, I live for such messages and my inbox is always open for you! I’m sending lots of love your way ❤️❤️❤️

[cherryobx]

I'm all yours//Rafe Cameron x reader

request: "Hii!! I love your writing! What if Rafe and Y/N have a fling, but he doesn’t make a move or show his motives, so she starts distancing herself from him. Later he finds out that she’s been going out with another guy (totally up to you to decide whether it’s obx character or fictional) and decides to have a conversation with her about what they are (he’s a liiitle too jealous and it makes her mad, but they work it out after a small fight). That’s it!! Hope you like it, have a great day🥰"

summary: Rafe realizes something when he hears that you're seeing someone

warnings: language, mentions of sex (but no smut!), FWB, angst

WC: 1.7k

(not my gif, creds to the owner!)

He was never there when you woke up. It was like a tradition at this point. He always left without you noticing. Of course, some mornings you wished that he’d stay a little longer and just hold you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear. But that was Rafe Cameron we’re talking about. It was nothing more than a friends with benefits situation. Although you wished it was something more. You’d never tell it to Rafe though. He’d just make fun of you for wanting something that was so out of your reach, something almost impossible.

After stretching a bit on your bed, you sat up and tried to rub the tiredness away from your eyes. Your eyes drifted to the alarm clock beside your bed. 7:32. Why had you woken up so early? You blamed it on the coldness of your bed and the sheets. After all it was just you in it.

You stood up, put on an oversized t-shirt and started picking up your clothes that had been scattered all over your bedroom the night before. You tossed them onto the bathroom floor and made a mental note to put them in the washing machine later.

Feeling your stomach grumble with hunger you walked into the kitchen and put two slices of bread into the toaster. You opened the fridge and took out the butter. Lately you had been obsessed with toast with butter. It was heavenly on mornings like these.

As soon as the toast was done, you spread some butter on them. You didn’t care enough to put them on a plate. Or you were just lazy. One of those reasons. As you were eating your toast, you scrolled on your phone, seeing all the pictures and videos from last night’s party. You had decided not to go and just stay home and watch a movie all by yourself. You actually treasured those moments. Rafe came over in the middle of the night and of course he was pretty hammered. You still slept with him though. How could you deny yourself such pleasure?

When you were finished eating, you sat on the living room couch, pulling your knees up to your chest. You felt pathetic, sad even. You were sorry for yourself. You had let Rafe crawl into your life, into your head, and now you couldn’t get him out. He was always on your mind.

“This has to stop,” you mumbled to yourself, as you took out your phone and texted the guy you had turned down a few days ago. He had asked you out but you declined because it felt wrong to go out with a guy that wasn’t Rafe. But now you realized that the smartest thing right now would be trying to forget about Rafe. He didn’t see you as nothing more than a friend, a hook-up.

He replied almost immediately which was a bit weird because it was 8 in the morning but you didn’t give it much thought. You agreed to go on a date with him in the evening.

As you were getting ready to go on the date, you got a text from Rafe, asking if he could come over tonight. You didn’t reply. It’s for the better, you thought.

The guy, Luke, picked you up at 7 p.m sharp and took you to out to eat. It was pretty romantic you were not going to lie.

“You’ve been living in Kildare your entire life? How have I not seen you before?” you asked before taking a bite of your food.

“It may be because I don’t really go to parties.” You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“You don’t? Then what do you do here? There’s really nothing to do here except parties and golf, if you ask me.”

“Well, mostly I just hang out with my friends, play golf, go fishing. You know, the usual stuff.”

“I’d get bored with that fast,” you laughed.

“Then what do you do here?” he asked.

“Umm, I go to parties, obviously, I’m not lame,” you said, sarcastically rolling your eyes. “But sometimes I surf.”

“You do? Isn’t that like a pogue thing?”

“So, sport is now a pogue thing? Yeah, I don’t label things like that. The whole pogue vs kook things is just pointless in my opinion.”

“If you say so.” He took a sip of his drink.

After dinner, you walked down to the beach and just took a stroll there. It was a beautiful sunset and you even took some pictures with him to remember that night.

“I had a really good time tonight. Thanks for not turning me down like I did you.” He had just brought you home and walked up to your front door.

“No problem. Who am I to say no to such a pretty girl.” The compliment made you blush.

“Also, thank you for paying tonight. I promise I’ll pay next time.”

“There’s going to be a next time?”

“Yes. I mean if you want to.”

“I do.”

“Then it’s settled.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before entering your home and closing the door behind you. You were actually happy with how this whole thing turned out. You hadn’t thought about Rafe even once this whole evening.

When you stopped answering to Rafe’s texts and calls, he became confused. What was going on? Had he done something to upset you?

After a few weeks in the dark, he heard at one party that you were seeing someone. He felt this kind of tightness in his chest. It was a mix of emotions. Almost like anger but not really. He couldn’t put a finger on it why he felt like this. It was not like you were his girlfriend or anything. Although he liked the sound of that. Y/N, his girlfriend.

He left the party and came over to your place. He banged his fist on the door repeatedly. Je might’ve even woken up your neighbours with all the noise he was making.

“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing here in the middle of the night?” you asked, as you opened the door. You were wearing an old t-shirt and shorts. You looked adorable to him.

“Can we talk?”

“At 2 in the morning? No fucking way.” You started to close the door but he shoved his foot between the door and its frame.

“Y/N, please. I need to speak with you.”

“Then come back at a reasonable hour,” you huffed and rolled your eyes.

“This is a reasonable hour. Just let me in.”

You let out a sight but then opened the door for him. You walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water because your throat was feeling a bit dry. He followed you close behind.

“If you’re here for sex then you might as well just leave right now. I’m not in the mood.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I’m here just to talk to you?”

“You want an honest answer to that?” you asked, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Not really.”

You took a sip from your glass and then placed it on the kitchen counter. “If you’re really here to talk then talk. I want to go back to sleep.”

“I don’t want you going out with that Luke you’ve been seeing.”

“How the fuck is that your business? I can go out with whoever I want. You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Yes, I can. I know what’s best for you.”

You bitterly laughed. “Oh, you do now? Rafe, you don’t know shit.”

“He’s not a good guy for you.”

“And you know that how? He treats me better than you ever have. And that’s a fact. Keep your nose out of my business and go find some other girl to fuck. This,” you waved your finger between you two, “is over. I don’t want to see you anymore. Like ever again. So you might as well delete my number.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?” The frustration within you was too much to handle as tears started to fall from your eyes and roll down your cheeks.

“Because I love you, for fucks sake,” he admitted, yelling.

You were staring at him in shock. You were speechless and didn’t know what to say. Was this like some sort of cruel prank he was playing on you? Or was he serious? Could it be? It was hard to believe. Why would he admit it now, after all this time?

“I didn’t realize it at first. I was so caught up in myself and my problems. But when I heard you were seeing someone, I freaked out. I didn’t like the feeling it gave me. I didn’t like the thought of you with someone else other than me. It didn’t seem right.”

He slowly walked closer to your, now sobbing, frame. He placed one of his hands on your shoulder and the other under you chin. He lifted it so you’d look him in the eye.

“If there’s a slight chance that you’re feeling like I do, please tell me. If not, I’ll leave right now and you’ll never have to even see me again.”

“I do,” you whispered, not being able to actually talk. Your emotions were overwhelming you as you broke down. He wrapped his arms around you and rubbed his hand up and down on your back in a soothing manner.

“It’s okay. Don’t cry. I’m here with you.”

You stood there for what felt like eternity, crying between his arms. When you had calmed down you pulled away a bit so you could look at him.

“You’re such an asshole. You know that, right?”

He nodded. He knew.

“But. I love you too. Always have been. I tried so hard to forget you. That’s why I started going out with Luke. So I could forget you for a couple of hours. And it worked. But as soon as I got home it was like he never existed. I thought about you. Only you.”

“Well, now I’m all yours.”

“That’s good to hear because I’m yours as well.”

***

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[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.05

10/28/2020

Preparations

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 6,652

Warnings: angst, slight smut?, language, fluff

A/N: Thank you everyone, for putting up with my emotional ass. After some thought, and when I was feeling better and not so sad (?), I really didn’t wanna make those of you keeping up with the story wait for the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy this one and if you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other blogs or sites.

REBLOGS are always welcome!

The city is lively with beautiful Asgardians rushing about their daily lives. In the time since it’s completion, New Asgard and its inhabitants have settled into a routine. New lives on a planet now once again full of growth, community interaction, and celebration when the time is right.

“We’ll give you a proper tour tomorrow.” Brunnhilde says, reaching forward to tap the shoulder of the man driving you both. “Stop here.”

“Wait, aren’t you coming with me?” You ask, startled as she throws open the back door of the sleek black sedan.

“No. I have other things to prepare for the wedding and then I have to check in on my Valkyrie. Your escorts will meet you at the shop.” Brunnhilde assures you.

“But-”

“Bye!” She smiles at you and slams the door in your face.

You sit there, confused and at a loss. Your anxiety begins to mount when the driver, a handsome young Asgardian man with long braided black hair, clears his throat and draws your attention to the front.

“Shall I drive on Your Highness?” He asks, glancing in his rearview mirror at you.

“Um…” You’ll never get used to that stupid your highness stuff. “Yes.”

“Very good, Your Highness.”

“Can’t you just call me, Y/N?” You ask, feeling awkward.

“No.” He says, a smile on his face. “I cannot. I can see why his Majesty has chosen you.”

You’re surprised by this statement, and you’re pretty sure it’s insolent maybe? You don’t know because this is all new to you, but you don’t really care either way.

“Why?”

“You don’t remember me?” He asks, as he drives down the street.

As they pass, the Asgardians stop in their walking or talking or errand running to watch you drive by. Some of them smile with excitement, even moving with the car a few steps before stopping.

They’re all dressed normal. Asgardian garb abandoned to fit in on Earth. Not all of them. Some still wear their own clothes. Some of them wear a mixture of both. It’s a mish-mash of two cultures and you understand the need for a human Queen a little more.

“No.” You shake your head, giving the driver your full attention.

“I didn’t think you would.” He admits, smiling still. “You were very nervous when I first drove you up to the palace. Quite literally shaking in your pretty shoes.”

Was he your driver then too?!

“Alas, I understand his Majesty’s choice because you were the only woman that sat in my car and spoke to me. You may not have been aware enough to remember me, but you were very kind. Very concerned about me despite the stress you were in.” He looks in his rearview mirror again, meeting your eyes. “My wife gave birth, by the way.”

“Oh!” Your mind is struck with an unfocused conversation, hazy but you remember the pregnant wife. “I remember!”

You’re way too excited about remembering and the driver chuckles.

“Was it a boy or a girl?” You ask eagerly.

“A girl.” He smiles. “We’ve named her Luta.”

“Congratulations!” You exclaim gently, so happy for him.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I’ll tell my wife you said so.” He promises.

“I’d love to meet her.” You hope, leaning forward to get a better look at the side of his face.

“I’m not sure that will be possible. You’ll be terribly busy, and my wife is also with our little girl.”

“What if I came to pay her a special visit?” You really want to meet her.

“If you could find the time, Your Highness, my wife and I would be happy to receive you.” He smiles.

“I’m sorry if you told me last time we met, but what is your name?”

“Armod, Your Highness.” He tells you, turning down a second and smaller street.

The people are still dense, gathered around stalls and smaller shops as Armod drives a little slower to keep a careful eye on the families attending what must be an early morning market.

You take it in as quickly as you can, devouring the sight of these beautiful people and in return they turn to watch you go by.

They turn to each other, have quick and silent—to you—exchanges before a few of them begin to turn and wave.

Nervous, you wave timidly, smiling because you can’t help it. It isn’t a conscious decision.

The side street is so packed with stalls that it makes it impossible for people to follow the car at the speed it’s going, even reduced.

You’re a little grateful. You don’t want to get mobbed without someone else here to dilute the excitement.

“The people are very excited to see their future Queen.” Armod explains, “Forgive them their exuberance.”

“I hope I don’t disappoint them.”

As the crowd thins out, and Armod pulls the car into a gentle stop, he shakes his head, “Trust me, Your Highness, you won’t.”

Your car door opens. Into your view slides a pale white hand, luxurious suit jacket sleeve barely hiding the equally expensive white button-up underneath.

“Your Highness,” greets a familiar voice.

Taking his hand, Loki pulls you from the car, helping you stand and even reaching down to adjust the long train of your right sleeve.

The dress is sparkling blue, a body-hugging gold silk dress underneath the top sheer voile blue layer on top. The right sleeve is long, ends at your wrist, with a train that flows down at an equal length to that of your skirt. The left side is sleeveless.

You’re nervous about the deep V of your bodice, the scrunched-up shoulders of your dress carefully balanced there but too precarious for your liking.

With he sun out, the chill in the air isn’t so bad, but here in the shade of what must be the bridal shop, you shiver.

“You look lovely.” Loki smiles.

“I look stupid.” You counter, feeling very exposed and not at all pretty with how tight the dress feels.

“Allow me to politely disagree.” Loki takes your hand and leads it around his elbow as become aware of the people gathering around to catch a look at you. “I think the crowd would agree with me.”

“Can we go inside, please?” You beg, waving at the small group as other begin to flock from their spots at distant stalls to join the crowd.

“Of course.” Loki taps your hand then escorts you into the shop.

You relax a little once you’re inside and warm.

A middle-aged looking woman moves towards the two of you, her hand subtly stroking a large fold of crimson fabric on the low center shelf before she reaches you and then dips into a low curtsy before rising and grabbing her hands to hold at chest level.

“Good morning, your Highnesses!” She exclaims, gushing to an embarrassing degree.

“Good morning, Gorm. How are you?” Loki asks politely.

He doesn’t seem truly interested in her answer, but he waits kindly while she flusters with the honor of his polite concern.

“I am much better now that you and our King Thor’s lovely intended have arrived. Such an honor to meet you, Your Highness.” She says, addressing you directly.

“Thank you.” You reply, startled by her a bit. “It’s so great to meet you.”

“Tell me, Gorm, have you received His Majesty’s instructions on the dress we’d like?” Loki checks.

“Oh, yes, Your Highness! I’ve been working non-stop on several options since I received them.” She assures him, gesturing back towards a doorway past a long wooden counter with a modern cash register and signature pad for credit cards.

“Excellent.” Loki smiles. “Now, while I hate to do this to you, love—do you think you can handle a few hours alone with Gorm to do your fitting?”

“You’re leaving?” You ask, once again shocked, just like with Brunnhilde.

“I’m afraid I have several other things to do for the wedding and with the Earth and Asgardian ambassadors eager to have the wedding as soon as possible, I have to take every chance I can get to run these errands. Not like I have anything better to do…” Loki’s voice is slightly bitter, but only for a moment before he taps your hand again. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back long before you’re finished. Gorm doesn’t leave anything to chance with her gowns and this one is the most important one you will wear in your life. We have to get it right, don’t we Gorm?”

Gorm is already nodding, her blonde graying hair flowing like waves across her shoulders as she does. “Oh, yes, Your Highness. I will make sure that not only will the dress fit His Majesty’s expectations, but you too shall feel beautiful and like the dress was made just for you, Your Highness.”

“There you are.” Loki smiles. “I’ll be back.”

He pulls your hand up to his lips to kiss your knuckles before letting it go and moving towards the door, leaving you and Gorm to stand awkwardly for a few moments after the door shuts behind him.

“Shall we?” She gestures back towards the doorway and since there’s no way to get out of this, you fix her with a nervous smile and nod.

“Yes.” You sigh, and follow her, making sure to hold onto the counter as your round it so that you don’t trip on your train.

~~~~~~~~~~

Stomach absolutely growling, you slip your arms through the sleeves of the dress you’ve pretty much settled on.

The past five hours have had you step in and out of two other dresses three times, and this one a total of eight times. Each time so that Gorm can make alterations to length and cut and detail.

It’s surprising to you that this particular dress should need so much maintenance when it’s the simplest of the bunch.

You’d fallen for it almost at first sight but had tried the other two more frilly dresses to appease Gorm since Thor had requested something feminine to counteract the armor you’d be wearing on the day.

Armor you had no idea would be required in your wedding until Gorm explained the necessity for bodices without much flair.

“Alright, Your Highness,” Gorm smiles at you, holding the dress low and open for you to step through. “Once more, and then I think we are done.”

You let her slip the dress over you, layer after layer of smooth satin with one final crepe layer on top. The dress is eggshell white, soft, and easy on the eye.

Some white fabrics nearly burn your retinas, but this one is pleasant to look at.

It stops just around your shoulders, leaving them exposed. The neckline curves down with your bust just a little making the top look like a heart, the point of which is followed all the way down with a line of stitched white buttons.

They’re purely decorative because behind you is where Gorm stands to zip the dress closed.

She closes a small clasp and then folds out the layers of skirt around you.

It’s not as long as the blue dress you wore here today. Simpler and easier to walk in. The sleeves themselves are long, which you appreciate very much in this weather. Every bit of the dress now settles along your curves just right.

“Oh, this was the right choice, I think.” Gorm smiles wide. “You look beautiful, Your Highness. His Majesty is a very lucky man.”

You smile in return, flattered by her words for a moment because you forget that Thor has been with Jane all morning. As you remember, your smile falters then fades as the worries you had this morning come rushing back.

“You don’t like it?” Gorm asks, reaching down to stroke the long and beautiful skirt.

“Oh, no. I love the dress, Gorm. I’m just…worried about His Majesty liking it.” You smile at her, to reassure her. She’s done such amazing work. You might have her make all of your gowns from now on. Unless…?

“Gorm? Were you the one that made the dress I came in wearing today?” You wonder.

“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m afraid I did not have that pleasure.”

“How much of an imposition would it be if I made you my sole dressmaker? His Majesty has bought me some gowns to wear when appropriate, but I don’t feel like they’re my style.”

“Oh, Your Highness! It would be an honor to be your personal dressmaker!” She’s so flustered that she excuses herself and vanishes into the front of the shop to get her water.

You turn your gaze onto yourself in the mirror, all three angles looking back at you.

The dress really is unbelievably beautiful. You would never have thought that this dress and its style would have looked good on you, but it fits around your curves so seamlessly. This dress was literally made for you and it’s very noticeable.

As you turn around one final time, a small chuckle from the doorway pulls your eyes away from your reflection.

“I’m glad to see you haven’t put up such a fight over this.” Loki moves towards you, stopping a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You should have seen me wrestle with the other two.” You sigh. “Can we go? I’m so hungry.”

Almost as if on cue, your stomach growls.

“Yes.” Loki nods. “We can go. I’ve got lunch waiting for you back in the palace.”

“Is Thor back?” You hop off the box you’d been standing on, grabbing your skirts and then dropping them to cascade around your legs like a milky waterfall.

Loki’s smile falter. “I’m afraid not. But don’t worry, he’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

You’re so disappointed you wander away from him into the dressing room to change back into your blue dress without giving him any sort of answer.

He’s got you in the car, your forehead resting against the glass of the window, lost in thoughts of Thor and Jane when he speaks to you again.

“Might I ask you a favor, sister?” He probes gently.

Him calling you his sister makes your stomach tumble.

You have a brother! How can you ever explain this happiness?

“Sure.”

“I hope you don’t find me insolent, but-” He hesitates, thinking about the words he’s about to say hard before he meets your eyes and that seems to strengthen his resolve. “Don’t fall in love with Thor. Not yet. Don’t let him pull you in right away.”

“You think he’ll leave me for Jane?” You wait, watching as Loki thinks through your accusation.

“Not exactly, but yes. I suppose that’s a possibility I hope you can avoid.”

For a few minutes while Armod drives you back to the palace, you say nothing. You consider his request and the honest concern that he seems to have for you.

As Armod pulls into the large multi-car garage at the back of the palace, you turn to Loki and stare sadly.

“I can’t make that promise, Loki.” You shrug. “It’s already too late for that.”

“You love him?” Loki realizes.

“No!” You deny, “Not exactly. I don’t love him yet, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t very fond of him already. He-he kissed me last night.”

Loki’s brow furrows.

“A lot actually. He begged me to try and love him just as he would try to love me. I promised him I would try.” As if you’ll need to try.

You’re already hopelessly possessive over him. Maybe not him as a person, but rather those kisses he gave you. Those are your kisses now. Those thick arms he held you in, those are your arms—your hugs!

And now he might be in the United States giving those very things that are now yours alone to Jane who wouldn’t even marry him?

“It’s too late.” You reiterate, feeling absolutely lost.

“Come on, Your Highness. Let’s get you a late lunch.”

~~~~~~~~~~

If there isn’t a trail across your floor after all of the pacing you’ve done today, you’d be surprised.

“This won’t make him come back any faster.” Brunnhilde points out.

“Do I really have to model the wedding dress for him?” You ask, twisting your fingers nervously as you move up and down your room.

“I think it would be good for him.” Brunnhilde explains. “And yes. He won’t see your armor until the day of the wedding, but the dress will help make it more real for him. He needs that. So do you.”

“It’s already real for me Brunnhilde.” You lift your thumb nail to your teeth and nip, like a nervous pup, stopping at the heavy doors of the balcony.

They’ve been thrown open and the chilly air filtering in makes you shiver.

“Hilde.” Brunnhilde corrects, then moves to take a long wine-colored woolen shawl and drapes it over your shoulders as you stare out at the bustling city.

You can hear laughter, lots of merrymaking. The Asgardian people know how to enjoy their free time, but you’ve seen how hard they work too. As a whole. Loki assured you on the way home that there are just as many lazy time wasters among them as there are humans.

“Why are you fretting?” She sits at the desk, staring up at you with curious dark eyes.

“Because he’s been with Jane all day.” You lash out.

It’s not a scream, just pure exasperation. And immediately, you feel sorry.

“I’m sorry.” You sigh, dropping your hand but pulling the shawl around you tighter.

You notice it finally.

“Oh, thank you.” You really feel bad now.

“You’re acting like you’re already in love with him.” She teases, not caring one bit about your little tantrum.

Through the corners of your eyes you look at her, avoiding her piercing look.

“Y/N…?” She wonders, leaning forward to get a better look at you.

“I don’t love him, alright? I just…” You sigh. “No one’s ever kissed me before.”

Your feel your neck and ears burn, scorching with embarrassment as you admit just how much of a maiden she’d found for him.

“So, you really are a virgin?” She gasps, leaning almost her entire body along the desk to look at your face.

You frown at her. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“No.” She hakes her head. “No, not at all. You’re just so…well, you’re beautiful.”

The laugh that slips through your lips is sudden and honest.

You stare at her, shaking your head because you don’t believe her one bit.

“I’m serious!” Hilde assures you, smiling and amused by your reaction. “It’s a little bit of a shame that you haven’t been fawned on before.”

The sprinkle of sadness in her voice exposes her real meaning and it wipes away all traces of flattery.

“You mean, it’s a shame that I haven’t been with someone who will really love me because they choose to? And not like Thor because he has to?” With a bit more desperation, you look for Armod’s car, needing to see Thor.

Everything that happened last night feels like a dream. Made up in your mind to make it easier to marry Thor. Was it a dream?

You don’t remember him telling you goodnight. You have the vague memory of falling asleep with your head on his shoulder but you’re not sure how real that is with how hazy it feels.

What if his kisses had been a hopeful wish?

You bite your bottom lip, the heat and weight of his lips still fresh in your memory.

It can’t have been a dream. It felt so amazing. You could never have imagined the way it felt for him to invade you the way he did, pulling your body against his.

“He doesn’t come by car, y’know?” Hilde says, sitting back in her seat.

“What?” You turn to her, eager for explanation.

“Thor?” She gestures at the sky outside, drawing your eyes away from the city in the distance and up to the stars. “He flies here on Earth. It’s faster than flying by plane, but not by much. He’ll be going straight to his room as soon as he gets back.”

“Oh.” Your disappointment is suffocating and because you have no reason to keep freezing to death, you close the balcony doors.

With the cold shut out the heat from the hidden vents in your room saturates your shawl and envelopes you in a cocoon of heat.

“He might not want to see me tonight.” You accept, knowing that even if things went as best as they could have, Thor will still be heartbroken.

Having to give up on a relationship he had been so invested in? Even if he’s been unhappy with it lately, it must be difficult.

“No. He might not. But he has no choice. The wedding is in three days, so we have no time to wait for him to be ready to see you. We need approval on the dress.” She explains, leaving no room for argument.

Which is a shame because you would rather not see him all torn up about Jane. Not that you wouldn’t like to give him comfort. But you doubt that seeing you is something Thor would want. Not when it’s your fault that he has to break up with Jane to begin with.

“You know what? I’ll go check to see if he’s back. Gorm already sent us the dress. I’ll have Estrid help you put it on.” Hilde rises, moving out of the room without waiting for you to agree.

Five minutes later, Estrid moves into the room, her arms cradling your beautifully crafted wedding dress.

“Shall I do your hair too, Your Highness?” She asks, and lays the dress on your bed, the color such a beautiful contrast to the deep plum colored sheets.

“My hair?” You look in the mirror and the fancy thing they’d done with it this morning is falling apart. “No. I’m okay, Estrid. Thank you.”

“Very well, Your Highness.” She smiles kindly then moves towards you and takes your shawl.

You turn for her and she begins to unzip your blue dress, your mind on Thor and the mood he might be in when you see him again.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hesitation is in more than just your fist, hovering over the dark wooden of Thor’s bedroom door. It’s tall. Taller than it probably needs, sitting within a stone arch decorated with stunning golden engravings.

You’re not sure why Brunnhilde left you to do this alone. Loki is busy with something secret that he doesn’t want to share with you yet.

Not wedding related. He says it’s important and it involves you to some degree, but it’s not necessary for you to know until it’s necessary for you to know. Which is a circle-jerk kind of logic that you’re kind of annoyed by.

He’s nicer than previous opinions of him have made him seem. You suppose that has to do with the growth he’s made since he was last on Earth.

New York hadn’t been a great time for Loki, and he could only go up from there.

Brunnhilde had also neglected to tell you how Thor was feeling. Or looking? Either would have been great before you committed to coming up here on your own.

Thor’s bedroom is at the highest point of the palace. That is, highest save for the last floor which is mostly a defense tower full of weapons and a constant guard to keep Thor and his future wife safe. Which is now gonna be you.

Unless you go into his room and he tells you that he can’t stand being without Jane and rejects you and this pretty dress and you have to go back home to live just as you had before you met him. Only now with his kisses in your mind, his massive body pressed to yours, you won’t be able to get over the future you’d been promised.

How had you gone from refusing to marry him to wanting nothing more than to be his wife and even if all he was able to give you was one of those stupid kisses from last night, you’d be satisfied?

You drop your hand, almost with your mind made up to give up and just go back to your room because you don’t think you have the nerve to go through with seeing him today.

The part of you that disagrees, that remembers last night and wants more lifts your hand and knocks on his door.

In shock, you wait until his voice comes through and finally take a breath.

“Estrid? Is that you?” Thor’s voice sounds tired, not broken, but you can hear the weight in his heart by the sound of him.

You open the door and peek in, just one eye and the room is astoundingly beautiful.

If you weren’t so scared of what you’ll find in Thor, your jaw would drop ant the stunning image. To the left are two doorways, one is open, and you can see a large bathroom within. At the center of the room is what looks like a small kiddie pool, recessed into the floor, but probably deep enough for Thor to stand in?

There’s a part on this floor that’s shaped strangely from the outside and wonder if that’s what it is. The floor is dark stone tile, smooth and probably treated for waterproofing. Along the far wall of the bathroom, you can see a long wooden bench, dark oak like all of the other woods in the room from what you can see.

The toilet must be somewhere to the left where you can’t see from where you stand.

The other door is shut but since there is only an ornate set of drawers to the right of it, you assume that inside must be a large closet.

To the right of the room is a large bed. Large bed. You’ve never seen one so big.

It must be a California King? Which you’d stumbled upon in your search for mattresses when you’d first moved into your home. An accidental find and completely unnecessary.

That is, until now, when the thought of Thor laying in your very normal sized bed flits across your mind and suddenly the large King makes much more sense.

The bed is covered in soft looking gray flannel sheets. The comforter is gorgeous too, luxurious in its cotton ball soft appearance. Black with golden swirls and lines stitched across the top and bottom. The number of pillows is silly. All sizes too. Large ones at the very back and then several smaller ones until the ones at the very front are for mere decoration only.

Despite the more rustic look of the walls in the dark oak and stone base, the bed and furniture is slightly more modern in design. The headrest is cream white, ridged, and padded, as is the foot of the bed, but flatter than the headrest.

Two bedside tables hold various books on one and a lamp on the other. Behind the bed is a wall with a great big tree carved, flowing the length from top to bottom.

You swear you’ve seen that somewhere before.

The entirety of the wall opposite the doors to the room is made up of windows. Each window has been thrown open and the floor to ceiling curtains flow in the cool breeze.

They avoid the small breakfast table, laden with an untouched plate of the chicken you’d had for supper. On the other side is a large heavy looking desk. It’s sturdy. Big like Thor with papers and scrolls and folders. A laptop sits shut at the center and in the chair turned to face the left side of the room sits Thor with his shoulders hunched, elbows on his knees, hands supporting his face as he keeps it covered.

His body tells you everything you need to know about how he’s feeling and though you hate it, after so much worrying about what you’d find in here, you’re grateful to finally set eyes on him.

“It’s not Estrid.” You say gently, afraid to speak any louder and disturb him more than he already is.

His head whips towards you, faster than you expected.

Your hands go numb with nervous energy as he stares at you, his electric blue eyes scanning you very slowly from head to toe, then back up again. He takes his hand as he does so, covering his mouth with it, stroking his beard slowly as if fixing it.

Taking the opportunity, you note the plain jeans he’s wearing, the white t-shirt that stretches across his wide chest and strains to keep him covered. The hem of his sleeves struggle to keep his biceps contained. His golden hair is windswept, short as it is, it sticks in all directions.

He looks so good, so perfect, except for that sadness on his face.

You can’t bear to ask him anything about her.

“Gorm is lovely.” You tell him, forcing a smile and a quick nod.

He meets your eyes with his own, dropping the hand he’d used to shield his mouth and allows both his hands to dangle between his knees.

“She’s the best in the city.” Thor nods, devouring your dress again.

He suddenly rises and you teeter backwards with the sudden rise.

He steps towards you, his feet falling heavy on the floor.

You really like the way he struts towards you. There’s a slight sway to his hips.

Lips feeling dry and cracked, you freeze as he moves past you at the last moment.

The sound of him sitting on his bed pulls you around to look at him and he sighs, reaching his right arm up towards you.

With a swallow, you move towards him. The luscious short train of your skirt follows in your wake, flowing like water.

When you’re within reach, his places his hand on your waist, pulling you closer until you’re standing before him. He takes his other hand and places that on your waist too, making your breath shallow.

He looks up to meet your gaze.

Hands balled into fists; you wait. You’re not sure what he needs. What you need from this moment. You’re only sure that you’re glad you don’t seem to have dreamed up last night.

“You look beautiful.” He says, voice penetrating into your chest to restart your heart at double the speed.

“It’s a little simple.” You observe, remembering the other much frillier options.

“It suits you.” He lets his hand trace down along the side of your hip, stealing your breath before sliding his hand back up to your waist.

He gives you a little shake and you reach out to place your hands on his shoulders to keep from losing your already fragile balance.

“Brunnhilde told me that you were very anxious today.” He sounds worried, his brow puckered, eyes crinkled at the corners from concern.

You shrug for him, intending to play off the exact amount of worrying you’d done today because you don’t want him to know how invested you already are.

“I ended it with Jane.”

“You don’t have to-” You begin, but Thor makes a dismissive noise in his throat and cuts you off.

“I owe you an explanation.” He nods. “When I gave you that ring on your finger, I became your intended. Officially ending things with Jane was only out of respect for who we were when we were together.”

“Thor you really don’t have to tell me about your breakup with Jane. It’s private. It’s before me. Whatever happened between the two of you today is now in the past.” You sigh, trying not to think about what kisses might have been shared.

Maybe more?

You make a mental note to never hold it against him if he ever tells you that he slept with her today.

He was hers long before you agreed to marry him.

“I want to be honest with you.” He sighs. “I want us to be open with each other. I want us to talk about anything that may be troubling us.”

“We will.” You nod, giving his shoulders a small squeeze. “I promise.”

“Then tell me what you were worried about today.”

You already regret your promise.

“I thought about what you must be feeling. Wondered if you might change your mind.” Answering honestly is actually cathartic. Though you usually do it on reflex, choosing to do it feels nice.

Thor only watches you, waiting for you to get it all out, his large hands caressing the sides of your waist and making you tingle.

“Keep going.” He urges you gently.

“I’m embarrassed.” You admit, and Thor’s face relaxes a moment, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips.

He doesn’t prompt you again, just waits.

There’s a peace in this silence of his. An acceptance. A sense of time to just be.

“I was afraid that I’d imagined last night. I don’t remember falling asleep. I just woke up and it was this morning. And last night was so…” You stop, realizing that as much as you’ve thought about last night today, for Thor if there are any kisses that he wants to hold onto today, they’re probably from Jane.

This fact suddenly hardens your heart and resolve. You reach to grab his wrists to pull his hands off of you, but he doesn’t budge. You couldn’t move him if you pushed as hard as you can.

“It doesn’t matter.” You brush it off. “You probably want to just be alone and I was told that you need to approve the dress? So, tell me what you think, and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Have I upset you?” He asks, face shifted back into that slight pout he’d been wearing before.

“N-No.” You shake your head.

“Then why do you want to leave so quickly?” He demands, voice rising in pitch at the end.

“I just…after today, I just thought that maybe you’d want some space?”

“Then you aren’t angry with me?” He checks.

“No.”

He leans forward and presses his head against your stomach, eyes shutting as his arms wrap themselves around you and pull you closer.

You don’t quite know what to do with your hands, so you stand there, holding them over his shoulders, fighting the desire to hold him back.

“I’m so tired.” He admits to you, and it settles in your heart.

You drop your arms, resting them against him before you embrace him, hands splayed along his wide back.

He exhales, relaxing against you. “Thank you.”

“For what, Thor?” You whisper, too overcome with all this hugging to speak any louder.

“For hugging me.”

Your heart breaks for him, and you hold him tighter.

“May I be honest with you about something?”

“Yes.” Here it is, the truth about Jane and him today.

“These moments with you have been the most enjoyable and special moments I’ve spent with anyone in a long time.”

Does it really matter if he slept with Jane today? Kissed her? Hugged her?

Was he this sweet with her too?

“I love you in this dress.”

You sigh, the first three words of that declaration sending your heart into a frenzy.

“You do?”

“I do.”

You smile, liking that very much.

Thor’s blue eye shifts with electricity, literally, and he pulls you down onto his lap with a demanding grip on your waist.

Your arm is still around his shoulder, the other moving down to rest over his hand which he brings around to rest on your lower belly.

“Are you happy?” He wonders, catching your fingers within his.

“Relatively.” You nod. “I’m still worried.”

Honestly, right?

“Why?” He laments, caressing your waist.

“I’m liking you more and more too quickly.” You sigh. “I don’t want to disappoint you or the people. I want to do well. Both in our marriage and with the kingdom.”

Thor caresses your side, then slides his hand down further, large hand sliding along the fabric of your dress down over your thigh.

There’s a subtle tickle between your legs. It startles you and you have to physically force yourself to relax.

“You’re already better than anyone else I might have chosen.” Thor whispers, leaning in closer until his lips are pressed to your ear.

You remind yourself that you made him promise not to do anything he doesn’t want to do. No forcing himself to be affectionate if he doesn’t feel it.

“Thor…” You gasp, just a flurry of the air left in your lungs.

“I’ve been thinking…” He admits. “Since I left you last night, about how we might be able to prepare for our wedding night.”

How do you breathe again? Where does the air go?

“Do you trust me, cherub?”

That pet name hits you just as fiercely as it did the first time and all you can do is nod.

Thor suddenly throws you back over his arm onto the bed. Landing with your head on the pillow, you gasp, chest rising and falling dramatically as you struggle to catch your breath again.

He leans down and hovers over you, waiting as you do, staring into your eyes.

“I’ll make certain you know this is not a dream.” He promises, then leans down to press his lips against yours.

You sigh, grateful for his taste as if it were a drug, removing an ache you’ve been feeling all day. Your arms come up on their own, trapping his torso down on yours as his hands trace your sides slowly.

This time you’re the one seeking more, pressing the tip of your tongue against his lips until he opens them and kisses you back.

He inhales your kiss, breathing in until you hear the vibration of a moan rip through him into you and you have never felt your body burn this way before.

You want him to make more sounds like that. Over and over if possible.

He pulls away too quickly, making you lift your head to follow him, but you fall back onto the bed, gasping for breath.

“Do you really trust me?” Thor checks again, his hands moving down along your sides until they stop at your hips, hands flexing and squeezing.

You’re shifting on his sheets, body squirming from energy you don’t recognize.

You know that he probably needs to be close to someone like this after today. After whatever he lost with Jane, even if he won’t let you see just how much it really hurt him, he probably needs this closeness.

“Yes.” You breathe.

With one hand he reaches down, staring into your eyes as he does. He finds the bottom hem of your dress and flips his hand underneath, then takes hold of your ankle.

He turns to face your feet, sliding down to the end of the bed then removes the flats you’d switched into, along with the thick socks you’d found to fight the cold.

It’s so chilly in here you shiver.

“You won’t be cold for long, cherub.” He promises.

After dropping your shoes on the floor, he rises then crawls onto the bed to where your feet are, grabbing hold of your ankles to pull your legs open a little.

“Easy.” He tells you gently. “You’ll still be a maid on our wedding night. This will be just a taste.”

He flips your skirt over his head, disappearing from view.

You push yourself up onto your elbows, curious and just as nervous until you feel the pressure of something wet slide up along your slit and you throw your head back, an uncontrollable moan ripping through your lips.

You hadn’t realized the taste would be for him.

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

The Adventurous Eaters Club

Hi buddies!  Welcome to the first post of yet another project I have chosen to take on because I apparently don’t enjoy sleep in any form. 

To make this even more FUN, let’s do a THING (just in time for #RACultivatingKindness and the Random Acts Food Equity initiative)

One hundred percent of author proceeds from Misha’s cookbook go to charity, including the following: The Edible Schoolyard The Garden School Foundation Whatcom Farm-to-School Fund

One week after each blogpost I do for this little adventure, I will count up the notes on that post and donate $1 per note to one of the above, or to @randomactsorg​.  

If you make a donation to any of these (in any amount!) or buy Misha’s cookbook and send me the receipt in my asks I will match your donation AND you can pick the next thing I cook!

[I say this like I have clout here, but hey why not feed some people, do a little good, and make this interactive!]

With all the preliminaries aside, let’s cook some chicken, under the cut! 

(warning: the photos below the cut contain pictures of raw chicken in case that is a “ew” trigger for anyone.  just warning ya)

Mix ‘N’ Match “Fried” Chicken (page 169)

This is a baked fried chicken tender recipe with three different spice mixtures (for those with children, the intent is to introduce them to diff flavors and also make them less fearful of food with ‘specks’ (or speckles, as L calls them)).

**The first thing I said reading this was “Dammit Misha!  Am I just casually supposed to own a meat mallet?” (does everyone? have I missed out on the meat mallet trend? fallen behind the curve of cool culinary utensil ownership? *hangs head in shame*)

First things first, I’m going to go rogue and tell you that after you cut your chicken breast into tenderloins (or open the package of pre-cut ones), you should salt your meat for at least an hour before cooking it. 

Like so:

pre-salting meat allows it to be seasoned from the inside as well as the outside (the salt will absorb), and also helps lower the risk of overcooking.  I promise it makes a HUGE difference.

While the chicken is salting, set up your dredging station.

This is the point in the process where I realized I am out of eggs.  However, I did have the following substitutes: 1. mayo and 2. half and half.  So what did I do? I mixed them (Misha I’m SORRY).

I am also sorry to you who is reading this post for having to look at photos of mayonnaise and half and half on this fine day.  

But! this does work in a pinch.  You basically need something runny enough to dip but thick enough to stick to the meat.

Also, here is another place Mish and I diverge - he kept the “wet” pan as a single one on the station, but I know how messy I am (in both cooking and life), and due to there being three separate spices in the recipe I divided it into three, so as not to mix it.

[somewhere Jake Abel has been summoned to make a few, um, jokes about this...composition]

Next, the “dry” station - i.e. your flour/spices.  The book uses pie pans for all of this, I - a prepared individual who did not assess not having ANY uniform cookware before starting this cooking blog journey - only had one pie pan, so these are what I used:

team free will 3.0

here they are with spices for each separate one.  do not fear the cinnamon.  I too, was once afraid.  trust me when I say you will no longer be shackled by your doubt once you have tried this.

also, I went rogue again on the last spice mixture which should just be paprika but I did not have paprika (OP check your pantry before you do the next installment of this challenge), so that is the combination I recklessly replaced with it (and I recommend it!!!).

spices plus flour plus salt (for the love of Jack always add salt at each step, I cannot re-emphasize enough that this is so very important, like Sam and Dean hotel room warding important).

Mix ‘em up.

sigh I can already tell my colors will not be as vibrant as the book’s (I know you, you’re thinking ‘OP you just mixed mayo and half and half, and THIS is the crime you are sad about?? but. here we are).  

Next, Misha says to wrap your chicken in plastic wrap.

no, I don’t know why mine is green.  let’s pretend its for Soldier Boy.

time to use the meat mallet which I do not have.  however, in a pinch - a cast iron skillet will do.  (the book also very much advocates for owning one of these and I too am a Cast Iron Truther.  the only pan(s) I use).

meat mallet cosplay.

now,“smash that meat until it’s 3/4 of an inch thick.” 

this takes approximately 30 seconds to a minute with the cast iron (longer if you have pent up aggression).  it’s not a REQUIRED step, but nice for an even cook.

take your flat chicken and start dredgin’ - flour first, just a thin coat

on each side

now take it for a trip to the half and half mayo hot girl summer pool party (or, if you are a real adult unlike yours truly, the eggs you have and previously whisked together for your “wet” pan)

[stop that thought this is a blog for a children’s cookbook]

let the excess run off before sticking this back in the dry mixture for a second coat, then put it on your pre-greased pan.

like so.

what my kitchen looked like at 1:00 a.m.

final touch = the moment I knew Misha, Vicki, and I were kindred spirits as I too like to drizzle melted butter over everything and anything.  

drizzle this liquid gold on top of each piece and

pop those babies in the oven at 350 for 20-30 minutes while you write bad fan fiction sentences (well, what I did then anyway)

then slice ‘em up and put them on this plate.

Yes I added popcorn for garnish as a treat.

My colors as predicted are not as good as the professional food photographer’s Misha’s:

But the flavors were definitely there!! Especially the cinnamon.  Would 10/10 recommend.

Happy cooking!  Asks are open if you have questions or want to yell at me about the mayo thing.  SORRY AGAIN OK

[luthienne]

Your blog's *chef's kiss* and I wish to ask do you have any quotes or what comes to mind when it comes to love mingled with grief/pain? Like losing someone at the stinging cost of the other? Or looking at a completed wonderful thing but knowing the pain and blood it stands on to be that way? Or when you look at someone realizing you now share hearts whether youd like it or not, that no bond in both your lives will ever come close to what both of you have(1)

how the love stiches both of you up, how achingly tender & vulnerable & warming it is and almost crying looking at where it is, how it is, what it became and what it grew from. Would love to hear if you got any that pops to your mind❤(2)

you are so kind! thank you, angel ♡ here and here are posts that reflect love mingled w grief/pain and tender/sweet love. here are a few more quotes that sort of encompass both for me:

“Not a day passes that I do not see ourselves, you and me, as we were when we met first. Every day of my life I see that.”

James Joyce, Exiles: A Play In Three Acts

“We can never go back. I know that now. We can go forward. We can find the love our hearts long for, but not until we let go grief about the love we lost long ago, when we were little and had no voice to speak the heart’s longing. All the years of my life I thought I was searching for love I found, retrospectively, to be years where I was simply trying to recover what had been lost, to return to the first home, to get back the rapture of first love. I was not really ready to love or be loved in the present. I was still mourning — clinging to the broken heart of girlhood, to broken connections. When that mourning ceased I was able to love again. I awakened from my trance state and was stunned to find the world I was living in, the world of the present, was no longer a world open to love. And I noticed that all around me I heard testimony that lovelessness had become the order of the day. I feel our nation’s turning away from love as intensely as I felt love’s abandonment in my girlhood. Turning away we risk moving into a wilderness of spirit so intense we may never find our way home again. I write of love to bear witness both to the danger in this movement, and to call for a return to love. Redeemed and restored, love returns us to the promise of everlasting life. When we love we can let our hearts speak.”

Bell Hooks, All About Love

“My heart is full not of guilt, or shame, or remorse, but of grief… Everything has become too terribly mixed up.”

Boris Pasternak, in a letter to Leonid Pasternak, from Letters Summer 1926: Pasternak, Tsvetaeva, Rilke

Jamie Anderson // Art piece by Ikenaga Yasunari (x)

“But if it’s love, by God, what is this thing? If good, why then the bitter mortal sting?”

Petrarch, from the ‘Canzoniere’ (tr. Mark Musa)

“bittersweet, undefeated creature – against you there is no defence”

Sappho, from Poems and Fragments (tr. Josephine Palmer)

“And if I should pick out the good in you – each shard of broken light, like glass from the wreck of such beauty, and look at that – or one golden afternoon when you hovered above me in rapture, oh half god – how would I bear to lift my hands, how would I bear to close my eyes and let you fall, and love be damned?”

Cecilia Woloch, “Lucifer, Full of Light,” Carpathia

Ada Limón, Bright Dead Things; “The Good Fight”

“...and if I cut myself, it was you I bled.”

Jeanette Winterson, Lighthousekeeping

“I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds– but I think of you always in those intervals.”

Salvador Plascencia, The People of Paper

Henry Dumas, Knees of a Natural Man; “Valentines”

“No te nombro; pero estás en mí como la música en la garganta del ruiseñor aunque no esté cantando.

I never call your name, but you are in me like the song in the nightingale’s throat even when it’s not singing.”

Dulce María Loynaz, Absolute Solitude: Selected Poems; “Poema LVII” (tr. James O’Connor)

Marguerite Duras - India Song (1975)

“I am sad because I love you, because I love you so much, and because I am not a bee to buzz with you lightly. I am not a flower, not a tree, not a rain-hewn stone. I am not a storm or a cresting wave, not a thorn or a vine. I am not the sun stinging the water, not the moon on the snow. I am not a star in the dark. I am not the dew-wet wind, not the cloud-stained dawn. I am only a girl, a small, plain girl, a girl who must smear her lips in honey to be found sweet.”

Amal El-Mohtar, The Honey Month

“Whether it was the quality of light or the clarity of my feelings for you, I don’t know, but there was softness and no blurring. ‘This is not a lie,’ I said to myself. ‘It may not hold, but it is true.’”

Jeanette Winterson, Lighthousekeeping

“He takes her in his arms. He wants to say I love you, nothing can hurt you but he thinks this is a lie, so he says in the end you're dead, nothing can hurt you which seems to him a more promising beginning, more true.”

Louise Glück, from Averno; "A Myth of Devotion"

Anna Akhmatova, Final Meeting: Selected Poetry (tr. Andrey Kneller)

“Your dying is my dying. / In you I exist—to live or not.”

Euripedes, from Alkestis (tr. Anne Carson)

Richard Siken, “Scheherazade” 

“First love tempts / then puts out our eyes.”

Salma al-Khadra al-Jayyusi, from ‘Dearest love - III’ (ed. Charles Doria), Women of the Fertile Crescent: An Anthology of Modern Poetry by Arab Women (ed. Kamal Boullata)

Interactive :: House Saints by Hala Alyan

“We were the heartbreak of truth. / We were willing to break even more.”

Andrea Gibson, from The Madness Vase; “Close For Comfort”

“God, what are you doing to me? / What am I doing to myself?”

Adonis, from ‘Concerto for the Veiled Christ’, Selected Poems (tr. Khaled Mattawa)

“No. I was not afraid of him; but of myself. I seemed reborn in his unreflective eyes, reborn in unfamiliar shapes. I hardly recognized myself from his descriptions of me and yet, and yet – might there not be a grain of beastly truth in them?”

Angela Carter, from “The Bloody Chamber”

“It is true we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another.”

Mary Shelley, Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus

Keaton Henson, “Alright”

Velimir Khlebnikov, The Collected Poems & Writings of V. K. “My Darling,”

“But love is impossible and it goes on / despite the impossible. You’re the muscle / I cut from the bone and still the bone / remembers, still it wants (so much, it wants) / the flesh back, the real thing, / if only to rail against it, if only / to argue and fight, if only to miss / a solve-able absence.”

Ada Limón, Bright Dead Things; “In A Mexican Restaurant I Recall How Much You Upset Me”

The Letters of Frida Kahlo: Cartas Apasionadas, tr. by Martha Zamora

Letter to Diego Rivera, July 23rd, 1935

“I want to give you everything. This is called a sickness.”

Camille Rankine, from Possession

Rainer Maria Rilke, Book of Hours: Love Poems to God; ‘Lösch mir die Augen aus: ich kann dich sehen’, tr. Anita Barrows & Joanna Macy

“Love that incorporates, that devours the other person, that cuts the tendons of the will. Love as immolation of the self.”

Susan Sontag, from Reborn: “July, 1958”

[thetypedwriter]

Cold Iron Heart Book Review

Cold Iron Heart by Melissa Marr Book Review 

I don’t think many people are aware or have read the Wicked Lovely series by Melissa Marr, but that’s alright. I originally started this book blog as I had so many thoughts and feelings about the books I was reading and yet no one to share them with. 

So I might be talking to me, myself and I in this book review, but at the end of the day, it’s still a way for me to express how I feel about the literature I’m consuming even if no one else is reading this. 

Wicked Lovely is one of my favorite series from when I was young. I still remember very clearly how my love story with these books started as it was odd and coincidental. I was at the grocery store with my mom and a promised “quick” trip quickly turned into an hour-long shopping spree as my mother was prone to do. 

Back then I was in middle school, had no cell phone, and was bored out of my mind. So what is any pre-teen to do? I went over to the small, sad book selection in the grocery story and picked up the novel with the most interesting cover. 

This book was Wicked Lovely by Melissa Marr. 

I read it the rest of the day and finished it that night, consuming page after page. I was completely transfixed. It was dark, gritty, violent, sexy-all things that my twelve-year old self found entirely fascinating. 

It was a fantasy book about fairies, but these fairies were deadly, life-sized, cruel, violent, beautiful and loving. 

I’ve been enamored with fairies and fairy lore ever since. All because of this book and the series that followed. It hooked me in ways that I still don’t fully comprehend, but I understood then that I hadn’t read anything like it before and I was drawn into Melissa Marr’s world and never quite left it, even all these years later. I’ve gone back and re-read Wicked Lovely multiple times and each time I still found it enjoyable and alluring. 

Cold Iron Heart is a different beast. 

A few days ago, my best friend (who is a journalist) sent me an email saying that local Arizona author, Melissa Marr, was releasing a new book and that she might have the opportunity to interview her. 

I was ecstatic, of course, and not so subtly tried to persuade my friend to let me silently snoop in on the interview (I didn’t, by the way). 

It was then that I realized I hadn’t checked in on Melissa Marr for some time-what had she been writing? Imagine my surprise that one of my favorite series of all time not only had a new book-a prequel no less, but also several new short stories. 

I was flabbergasted. And beyond excited. 

So I ordered the book immediately and read it the moment it arrived on my doorstep to eventually find myself with...mixed feelings with a negative tinge. Okay, more than a tinge, more like a cascading waterfall of negative feelings. 

First off, the book is a prequel. 

Now. Melissa Marr could have done so many cool things with this. There are so many interesting characters that I would have loved to see more in depth or delve into their histories. 

Like Miach and Beira, for example. I’ve heard about the late Summer King since book 1, but never got to read about him as he was dead before the series began. However, his legendary love with Beira, the Winter Queen, would have been so incredibly bewitching to read about it, especially if it involved the birth of Keenan. 

This would have been an awesome choice. 

Irial and Niall would have been another incredible one, probably the best one. We’ve been told over and over again throughout the series that these two hot-heads with a past used to run the Dark Court together, wreaking havoc, taking lovers, seeking new heights, etc. 

But do we get to see this transfixing time? Nope. 

I would even have settled for a story about the Hunt, Sorcha and Bannanach, literally any character done in the right way. 

But...no. Melissa Marr decides to write a prequel that is literally a carbon copy of the first book Wicked Lovely, but innumerably worse. 

Everything in the prequel is exactly the same as the original novels. Miach is dead, Keenan is looking for his Summer Queen, the Winter Girl is pissed off for not being the chosen love of Keenan’s, Irial is temptation in the flesh, Niall and Irial are at odds, Bananach is causing discord, Sorcha is isolated and frigid, the list goes on and on. 

Nothing of consequence, novelty, or importance happens in this book. 

Frankly, it just felt like a terrible redo of the first novel, just set 100 years back. 

I didn’t give a single flying crap about Thelma or Tam or whatever her name was. She was a worse version of Leslie, of Aislinn, of every other cool female character we eventually get to read about in the main series. 

Thelma was contradictory in the worst of ways. She said one thing, like she would rely on no man and never have children and then turned around and did every single one of them like some sort of hypocrite galore. 

She was so irritating and boring to read about that I tended to skim her parts because it was just paragraph after paragraph of bitching and moaning about the same goddamn things over and over again: stay away from fairies, oh god this fairy likes me, no sex, no children, no love and then bam! She just throws it all away. 

Urgh. 

The worst part too is that this isn’t a well written book. It’s repetitive, quite boring at times, and caters way too much to the reader. 

Something I loved about the first Wicked Lovely is that Melissa Marr kinda just tosses you into her world and calls it a day. She doesn’t hold your hand or over explain. She just describes and lets you glean for yourself. 

I loved this aspect of the original series. I liked learning about her world and the characters this way. 

Cold Iron Heart spits on the idea of this concept. Marr repeats herself so much about the same things, who Irial is, what fairies are, why this is happening, that I grew increasingly irritated as the book went on. 

Who on earth is she explaining this for? New readers? Why in the world would any new reader start with this book? The newest one that comes after six others???? It makes no goddamn sense. 

So not only did I feel patronized and aggravated, but the love story between Thelma and Irial grated on me as there was no basis for their love. 

It was ridiculous with no shred of authenticity and I hated it, especially knowing that he already loves Niall and Leslie only to come back and say, “wait a moment! I had another true love that I’ve never mentioned before. Yeah. Her name was Thelma. Or Tam. Or whatever, I don’t know. I knew her for three days, most of which was just sex, and then I lost her after she had my baby but I conveniently forgot about it because of nonsensical plot! Hahahah, good right?”

No. Not good. Horrible. 

Overall, this book is a waste of time and trees. 

I don’t know why Melissa Marr even wrote and published this. I can see her writing this for herself because why not, but as a fan and a reader this was beyond disappointing. 

It’s like how all Harry Potter fans felt when J.K. Rowling wrote The Cursed Child and we got movies about Newt Scamander when we literally wanted anything else-Marauder series anyone??

It’s a particular kind of egregious offense when a favorite series or author of yours ends up ruining the canon you’re in love with. For that reason alone, I am stripping Cold Iron Heart from my heart and mind, like it never existed. 

Just like I did with Cursed Child, or the fact that you-know-who dies in Death Note (if you know, you know). I just...don’t believe it. It ruined all the lovely things Marr had previously written and the stories that defined so much of my love for YA, for fantasy, and for my own writing as a whole. 

I know for a lot of you this was a bumbling mess of a review with little to no clarity of the plot or who these characters are. Frankly, I’d be surprised if you are still reading if you didn’t know the book or the series in the first place, but that’s alright. 

Like I said at the beginning, this is a way to get my intense feelings and thoughts down onto paper and now that I have I feel marginally better, although still pissed off that this book exists and that I currently own it. 

Sigh. 

Well if you stuck around for the ride, I appreciate it. If you skipped this particular book review, I understand that too. 

Recommendation: Burn this book. However, if you want a gritty, tantalizing fantasy story, pick up the original Wicked Lovely and be whisked away into a world that has stuck with me since the first moment I read it on the fateful day at the grocery store. 

Score: 3/10

[lokixreader]

Just a simple maid (soulmate au)

Requested:

Yes

Words:

4,044

Summary:

Y/n, an Asgardian maid, seems to be the soulmate of prince Loki, and for some reason she always wears long sleeves.

Warnings:

A lot of crying, sleep deprivation, ANGST, panic attack (kinda), sadness, tears, some more crying and a lot of bad writing

A/n: alright first soulamate fanfic, let’s hope for the best

A/a/n: finally I’m back, but only shortly. I recently redound some inspiration and will to write and to try being present on my blog again. But now I must warn you. I wrote this in the span of 2 years more or less, and for how impossible it might seem, I lived a lot of things in 2 years. This has been specifically written in 3 different periods of my life which would be a few months before, during and a few months after my depression. I hope you will enjoy it, and to everyone that is going through what I have, please I beg you, be strong. Carry yourself and keep going. Even if it hurts. Talk to someone about it. Someone who will understand and not treat you as attention seekers. Remember that you are loved, that even if you don’t have anyone now, life works in unexpected ways, and that maybe tomorrow you will find those people or that person that is willing to love you, perhaps not romantically, but trust me, aromantical love is the best. You will get through it. It doesn’t matter how hard it gets. You’ll get better. You will be better. You deserve it. And you are not alone❤️.

As a maid, you have never imagined yourself in a higher rang then where you already were and never expected something more. Children often imagined themselves being a lot more then what they were, imagined being princes or princesses, kings and queens, gods and goddesses and so on, but not you. You only dreamed to be free. Free from everything and everyone. Being raised as a servant blocked your dreams. You never dreamed what the other kids did, you didn’t want to be a goddess, you didn’t want to be a queen or a princess, all you ever wanted was freedom. Something that you never tasted since you turned 19. Exactly. 19 was the official age when a girl born from a servant became one as well.

Your mother was a wonderful and loving person, the best person in all of Asgard. She was the queen’s servant and Queen Frigga, being the sweet and kind person she was, often left you to play with her sons, Prince Thor and Loki, giving you the possibility to grow up with them too, and so you did. You were practically the same age as Loki, who soon became your best friend. Strangely, like probably not all of the royalty would do, he never treated you as a servant, but as a friend, and Thor did the same, leaving the servant-treatment aside. Time passed fast leaving child you, child Thor and child Loki behind and welcoming yourselves as adults. When you turned 19 and became a servant, for how much Thor and Loki claimed to care for you, they couldn’t do anything to solve your situation, those were the rules and the laws of Asgard and breaking them would have meant for them to go against the throne that one day one of them would have sat on. However, you couldn’t blame them, and you did the only thing that remained: you dealt with it. You were a maid. You couldn’t change it. You simply decided to keep it that way. But then again, when you turned 500, after centuries of service, you finally found a joy. In fact, when an Asgardian turns to the age of 5 centuries, they get strange writings on their arms, because of soulmates, as you once read on a book. When you started having writings on your arm, you went directly to your mother, who explained what a soulmate was and how it worked, better than any book could.”Y/n, darling, a soulmate, as the name already explains, it's a person whom you share a close relationship and a deep understanding. It's someone made to love you, that destiny decided you would be in love with. You can't hate them nor not love them, it’s a deep connection that can't be broken ” she explained to you, and you asked curiously ”What are these writings on my skin? How can I find this person?” and you kept making questions ”This writings are something that your soulmate wrote on his own skin to contact you. In fact, this is the only way you can find your loved one. You are lucky. Some people, unfortunately, never find their soulmates”. That night you received another writing on your arm, and you didn't hesitate to answer. 

 Hi

Only that, nothing too special, but you still responded

Hey

Nothing too special either

What are you doing?

Compared on your arm and you answered

Just talking to you, nothing much, you?

And he answered, and you two kept talking for longer than 3 hours. When you realised how late it was you wrote:

Oh, it is so late! We should go to sleep!

Even if you didn’t want to leave.

Wait! Do you think that we could meet tomorrow?

You suddenly found on your arm.

Tell me your name and I will find you

You wrote back, even if you weren’t sure that you could have, due to all the work you had to do tomorrow. But then reality hit you harder than ever.

I am Loki Odinson.

Oh great gods, oh great gods! Loki Odinson, Loki, that Loki, practically your best friend since childhood!

From that moment you stopped writing and since that night you promised yourself to avoid Loki, for how much you could, due to the fact that you were one of his maids.When you dressed up in the morning you chose a long-sleeve dress, in order to hide the writings on your arm and, without even thinking about meeting him, you cleaned his chambers only when he left them.This is what you did for almost a month, but it couldn't last forever, and you knew it. What hurt you the most was shutting Loki out, he was your best friend, always there for you, and now you just let him out, but obviously, he kept writing on his arm to talk to you, to see if he was the one that did something to you. He kept on writing and writing until your arm didn't start to hurt. It started to hurt every time he wrote something, every word, every letter, getting worse and worse, but you couldn't ask anyone for help, not even your mother, because you couldn’t risk her knowing that your soulmate was Loki. Again, you did the only thing that you could do, you dealt with it. When you found the time, you went to the library to find any reason why the writings caused you pain and any way to stop it. Today was one of those days when you had the time to go to the library. The library was a huge room, full of shelves and departments, with millions of books of every genre. You went to the section where you found the books on soulmates when you were younger. You had been searching for it the whole day and you didn't find it. You could see from the huge window that it was getting dark outside and that you should have gone to your room, so you decided to leave. The following morning you got up with a stringing pain in your left arm. Again. Loki had probably been writing on his arm for most of the night. He often did that, without thinking that it hurt you, or maybe he just didn’t know. Then you looked at your arm, not surprised in finding many questions such as “What are you doing?” “Where are you?” or even “Who are you?”. You didn’t answer any of those, you didn’t want to, you simply couldn’t, so you just got out of your bed and dressed with a long-sleeve dress, as always. Then, you got to Loki’s chambers, when he left them of course. He wasn’t a messy person, in fact he was quite the opposite, even if sometimes it might happen that he left his bed un-maked, mostly because he was late for something or he had something to attend to. You started making his bed, and picking up a pillow which probably fell while he was sleeping, you found a book. You weren’t surprised, Loki loved reading just as much as you did, and it came to you without a surprise that he read in bed before sleeping, or even for the whole night. But what surprised you was what the book was about. On the brown cover, in a beautiful golden writing there was written ‘Soulmates: the lifetime bondage’. This was te book you were searching for the last day! And it was in Loki’s room, but why did he have it? The answer suddenly popped in your mind: you weren’t answering him when he wrote to you, so he was probably searching for the reason why. Opening the book and going through its pages, you saw a few notes here and there, till you didn’t reach the chapter about ‘not answering soulmates’ and you started reading carefully.

“Not answering soulmates:

When a soulmate does not answer to the question the other soulmate wrote on his arm, there are more reasons why it happens:

- The soulmate does not answer because of its own will

- The soulmate might not be capable of answering

- The soulmate might be dead”

The last part made your heart drop. Did Loki think of you as dead? No, he couldn’t, you were right there, alive and well! But he didn’t know, you never talked to him. You rolled up your sleeves, looking at all the questions he wrote, between them there were some “Are you alright?” or “Are you safe?” and similar. Tears started appearing in your eyes, one already falling on your cheek: you didn’t realise you started crying.“So you found the book” a voice said behind you. You rolled down your sleeve, got up from the floor you were sitting on and took in all of his form, recognising it as the younger prince of Asgard. “L-loki, I was not expecting you here!” You said. “I know, I had a very important meeting, which I actually did not have to attend” God his accent, you had really missed his voice. “Anyway, how come that I have not seen you in a while?” He asked “I..I have been busy..” you lied. He smirked. “Y/n-“ “I know, I know you are the god of lies and you know that I lied” you stopped him in the middle of his sentence “I was about to say that I know you since we were children, it is impossible for me not to know” of course you thought “So, what is this truly about?” you had to tell him the truth, but you couldn’t, not this way “I am just having problems with my soulmate” you said. Half truth and half lie, or better only truth and an omission. ”That is interesting, I am too” You were surely surprised that he said so “Oh, really, why, what is happening with them?” You tried to pass the topic on him rather than on you “I think you do already know by reading the book you are holding” he said. You looked down at your hands, finding the book “I am sorry, Loki. But do you know why they are not answering?” You tried to get the informations by directly asking him. “Unfortunately, I do not, but I do have an idea” you but your lip “Do you believe that they are dead?” He sighted “They might be..” he said without daring to look into your eyes. You felt so bad for avoiding him and leaving him without telling him anything. “Oh, Loki” you sighted and gave him a hug. He was startled after feeling your arms around him but then he gave in an hugged you back “I missed you” he said, burying his face in your hair. “I missed you too” you said back. When he stopped hugging you, you stepped back and tucked a stand of your hair behind your ear “Now if you excuse me, I think I should change your bed sheets” you said to him “Yes, of course” he agreed. You started packing the sheets so you could take them more easily and started heading for the door when Loki asked “You know that it is June, don’t you?” You slowly turned around and gave him a questioning glare “Isn’t it too hot to wear long sleeves?” He said. What am I going to say now? You asked yourself “I just liked the dress” you justified, immediately leaving the room, not noticing the smirking god. That was close. The days passed and you couldn’t help but being sorry for Loki. Sometimes you could see him wandering in the corridors near his chamber, with the book in his hand, a pen in the other, a rolled up sleeve and, to conclude his look, two deep bags under his eyes: to say that he was visibly tired was a misunderstanding. He was completely sleep-deprived. This situation was getting out of control and seeing him like this made your heart feel only pain and pity for the younger prince. This, till the day you finally had enough and decided to talk with him.

You knocked on his camber door, putting so much effort in such a small gesture. When you received no answer was the moment you started questioning yourself, but gathering all the courage you still had in yourself you entered, despite him not telling you to do so. Then you saw him. You saw him and you felt full of emotions: sorrow and regret were the first ones, then joined by happiness and joy for finding your best friend again.He was on the balcony, reading, a concentrated expression on his face, probably not even noticing you entered the room due to the lack of sleep. Or probably he had, but couldn’t bring himself to care in that moment. “L-Loki?” you quietly spoke his name, getting his attention... “Mmh?”.... more or less...“Loki?” you called for him again. When you didn’t get his full attention, you brought his face to you, locking your e/c eyes with his green ones. In doing this you could see his tiredness and sleep deprivation, the way his eyes had lost the sparkle they once had.“Loki, look at you! What have they done?” You asked him genuinely worried “I can’t find them, they won’t answer me! What have I done? What has happened to them!?” Loki yelled, tears picking at his eyes. You couldn’t do anything to him, so you hugged him, holding him to yourself in attempt to comfort him. He then let himself go, sinking in your embrace and crying, crying on your shoulder. When he finished you wiped away his tears, looking in his eyes “What is wrong with me?” He suddenly asked you.“There is nothing wrong with you, Loki, you are perfect. You are not the problem, it is them, they do not know what they are missing, and if they really do not want to be with you, then move on and let them see your true greatness” you said with a small smile forming on your lips, making a similar one appear on his face. His eyes were looking into yours, like trying to get to your soul. “Now, you need to get ready, there is a ball tonight you need to attend to” you said, looking down to the ground to avoid his gaze. “Come with me” he said “What?” You were shocked, did you actually hear well? “You understood, come with me” “I-should not, I-I mean, I am not important like the people that will be in the ballroom, and not even at your level to actually come with you” you stuttered “Oh, you got me wrong darling, you will not decide, this is an order, and please do not underestimate yourself like this” . That was... shocking to say the least. Not less then three second ago he was crying on your shoulder, and then he was giving you orders? Well, it was something he could do, but still, he never did.

You went to your room to get ready for the ball. What could you wear? You were a mere servant, you didn’t have a dress for such an occasion. But then, when you opened your dresser, you saw something that didn’t belong there: it was a beautiful long f/c dress. You took it to examine it and you saw all the diamonds it had on it. You were speechless, where did this dress come from? A little light turned on in your mind: Loki. Of course, who else could have invited you knowing that you didn’t have a dress for the occasion, just to give you a new beautiful one? There was only one last problem: the dress didn’t have sleeves. And now? What could you do? Make up on the arm? No it would be too much. Gloves maybe? Probably the best option.

After finishing getting ready you looked at yourself in the mirror. You felt beautiful, the dress looked perfect on you, the slight make up you put was perfect, and the gloves you found were perfect. Everything seemed perfect. You got out of your room, closing the door behind you and when you turned you found yourself face to face with the God of mischief.He looked at you, mouth slightly open, gazing at you from your feet to the tip of your head. “Is something wrong?” You asked, thinking that you had something out of place “No, you look ravishing”. You whispered a small ‘Thank you’ while blushing madly.

When you arrived at the ball room, you started feeling insecure. You were just a maid, a mere servant, and behind those doors were important people, princes and princesses, probably even kings and queens. Loki seemed to recognise your insecurity, since you felt him take your hand in his and lightly squeeze it. Now you could see why the destiny put him as your soulmate. That small gesture made you feel better, a bit more confident. You two then decided to enter the room.The night seemed to go well, and by well you meant that no one of the royalty approached you, except for Thor of course, who had come just to see you, since it has been a long time from the day you had last seen the blond prince. He started talking to you only when Loki had left your side “Hello, Y/n “ he began “Greetings, Prince Thor” you said back. He then chuckled, making you laugh; you had always greeted him like this as a child, a small obligation from your mother, who wasn’t used to you being friends with the princes. You then went on talking about the past months and what you had been doing, including the reasons why you couldn’t spend your time together.

“Alright, say that one more time.”

“Thor, I have already told you three times” you complained.

“I just need to understand why you have not told him yet” he insisted “How can you not understand? Loki is a prince, a god, and one of the most perfect people to ever exist, how could I ever stand next to him. I am nobody compared to him, Thor. I am just... just a simple maid” you explained, pain almost visible on your lowered face, you were feeling miserable just thinking about it, about your unimportance and how at times it made your life a living Hel. You were taken back to reality and away from your thoughts by a hand being put on your shoulder. You looked up to see an understanding sad smile plastered on Thor’s face “You forgot to mention the most important thing: he is your friend” he gently spoke, emphasising the last four words. “He has been your friend for longer than I have, he has spent almost his whole life with you and has always cared about you deeply. It shouldn’t be so surprising that you two are meant to love each other, but still, you keep saying that it should not be like that, just because you are a simple maid. Well, you might be a maid, but you are everything but simple. You are one of the most amazing people I have ever met. You are intelligent, funny, curious and beautiful. And top of that, you are you, and have never been afraid of who you are. For all these reasons, I can say today that I am happy and proud of having you in my life, and I am certain that my brother feels the exact same way”

By the end of his surprising speech, you found yourself on the verge of tears. You had always been in the dark about them caring so much for you and had never thought that someone could see you in that way. The blonde prince then hugged you tightly, noticing some of those small tears fall down your cheeks

“Do you want to know a small secret?” He asked you and you nodded still hugging him, then he silently said “When you had to become a maid, you should have been my servant, but Loki insisted so that you could be his” your eyes widened. Loki wanted you...as his maid? “He was convinced that since you should have cleaned his room, which isn not usually messy or dirty, you could have more time for yourself and that he would have been able to see you everyday at least once” You abandoned Thor’s hug to look at him in disbelief. He moved his hand to brush away on of your tears “ He loves you” Thor said, so faintly and silently that you wouldn’t have heard him if you were just one more step away. That last sentence hit you hard. Everything Thor said hit you hard. The room which wasn’t so crowded immediately started to feel smaller and smaller. Your lungs seemed non-existent and your breathing increased. You quickly excused yourself before running away towards the balcony.

The outside fresh air seemed to calm you down, and to fill your new redound lungs. You were feeling normal again, up until you didn’t hear a well too known voice. “Are you alright? I came back to my brother only to hear that you run away here” his voice was like the one of an angel, beautiful and spectacular, but at the current moment it was slightly panicking you. But then you took a deep breath and exhaled. In the meantime Loki came closer to the railing where you were at and looked at you worryingly. After a few seconds of mere loud breathing, you finally spoke up “I know why your soulmate is not answering Loki” he looked at you with a confused face “We do not have to talk about them, it is about you I am worried now. Forget them and tell me what is wrong. I want to be sure that YOU are alright Y/n, not them” you looked away from him and broke into a small laugh.

Ah the irony.

And if Loki was confused before, now it was even worse. You looked back at Jim’s sad face , then you slowly took off one of your gloves. Loki’s expression changed from confused, to shocked, to surprised and finally to one you could quite muster, something between realisation and sadness. He gulped, closing his wonderful eyes, only to open them Almere moments later “Why.” Was the only thing he said. A cold expression hard to read or to understand. “I was afraid” you answered, tears already forming. “Scared? Scared of what?” He asked slightly furring his eyebrows “That you would have rejected me and abandoned me. I was afraid of not being enough for you or that-“ you didn’t finish your answer. Tears were falling on your cheeks without a care, but you were engulfed in a hug “I would never leave you, for no reason at all. I’ll always be with you.” You hugged him back, scared that the world might end if you even dared to let go.

Minutes went by, but both of you couldn’t care less of the time passing, you just stayed like that, in each others arms, after so much time divided. Loki then kissed your temple. “I wish I told you sooner” you apologised looking to the floor. His index finger lifted up your chin so that he could see your features “Me too” was what he said “but this does not matter, for we are finally together now” you smiled at him happily. He could have reacted in million different ways. He could have told you how much time he spent trying to contact you, how he suffered without you, how his best friend leaving him could have affected him. But not a word. Not even a mention. He was just genuinely happy that you were alright and that he had his soulmate in front of him. *how could I have been so blind to this* he kept asking himself, looking at the e/c pearls staring at him.

Unbeknownst to you both, a certain blond prince watched them together, kissing each other fondly, then observed them get back in hand in hand, finally happy.

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@friendlybelladonna picked prompt #76!

Fandom: Star Trek AOS

Type: X Reader

Frequent Flyer

Word Count: 1,298

BonesXRedaer (Star Trek AOS)

Yay prompt Wednesday everyone! This was pretty fun to write though I don't know if I got the original mood I wanted. I hope you all enjoy it anyway! As usual no beta so typos will be present.

-H❤🖖

“I’m honestly not hurting myself on purpose just so I can see him,” you grumbled from the biobed Christine Chapel helped you onto. The nurse looked at you unconvinced with her hands on her hips; she is one of your closest friends and had immediately seen who you had a little crush on.  

“Right and the flirtatious banter you two seem to have is-”

“Is nothing. The banter isn’t flirtatious,” you said mostly just to convince yourself. Christine laughed and rolled her eyes.

 

“Okay (Y/N) you know the drill,” she sighed. You took several deep breaths so the bed and Christine's tricorder could measure your heart rate. Several of the usual checks were made before they brought a doctor in to officially look at your arm. 

The Red Alert had died down quite a while ago and you had avoided sickbay for as long as you could but you knew for a fact that your arm was broken and the burn was already getting infected. “Hello (Y/N),” the voice of Geoffrey M’Benga reverberated around the small exam room. 

You looked up and gave the doctor a small but mildly disappointed smile, “Hey Geoff,” 

M’Benga returned the sad smile and shook his head in mild exasperation, “What are we going to do with you my dear girl? This is the fourth time this month,” he said gently, taking your arm. You scowled at your scuffed boots, cheeks red with embarrassment. Picking at your uniform you avoided looking at the two caregivers in the room. 

“I-” you began but the sound of loud frustrated footsteps cut you off mid -explanation. 

“Again?” a southern voice drawled from the doorway, you ducked your head cheeks becoming redder than before. Clearing your throat you looked up through your lashes at the ship’s CMO, 

“In my defense, the ship was getting hit like a pinata and that hot pipe technically shouldn’t have been there,” you said cheekily. Doctor Leonard McCoy gave you a stern look, while M’Benga smirked as he readied a hypo. 

“That was four hours ago, why did you wait so long to seek medical attention Ensign?” McCoy barked out his frustration growing. You bit your lip trying to come up with a better reason than ‘because you make me nervous and I’m a complete chicken,’ 

“Well sickbay seemed a bit busy and I figured if I’m gonna wait may as well be useful so I continued working-” 

The silence was almost deafening. You could feel the tension and it wasn't the good kind either. 

“I’m making it worse aren’t I?” you asked nobody in particular. Christine and M’Benga both hummed in agreement, almost feeling bad for you. 

“Geoff, Chris can I have a moment with Ensign (Y/L/N)?” McCoy’s voice was tight, his eyes never leaving your face; which was red as your uniform. M’Benga set the bone regen aside and got up from his stool, he caught your eye and winked. Gritting your teeth you glared at his retreating back. Christine gave you a cheeky smile and subtly motioned for you to breathe as she walked through the open exam room door. It hissed shut behind her leaving you and McCoy alone in the cramped space. 

“How much trouble am I in?” you asked anxiously. McCoy sighed and sat down heavily on the empty stool by your bed. He reached over and grabbed the bone regen and gently placed it over your arm. 

“Fourth time this month (Y/N) what’s going on?” he asked, trying to meet your eyes. You avoided his gaze as much as possible but he was persistent. Biting your lip again you glared at the biobed monitor when it showed that your heart rate increased. 

“I don't know what's wrong with me,” 

“Come on (Y/N) you’re not just coming in here to see my pretty face,” McCoy teased dryly while he skimmed through your medical file. You chuckled humorlessly, ‘Uh well, about that,’ you thought with a snort.  

McCoy looked up from his PADD at your very unladylike snort. Setting the device down he leaned forward making you want to lean back or at least get your heart under control. Your cheeks flared again and the twitch of McCoy’s lips was almost unnoticeable. 

"Well, if you're going to keep ending up here you may as well call me Leonard. You make me call you (Y/N) after all" 

“Leonard,” you tested the name carefully before nodding. Leonard smirked after you said his name like he enjoyed the sound of it coming from you. He pulled a tray full of supplies over to his side and picked up a hypospray, 

“Your burn got infected, I want to give you some antibiotics to help clear it up,” 

You nodded and tilted your head to the side so he could get to your neck. Leonard brushed your hair away and gently injected you with the medicine. He rubbed the injection site easing the sting, “Are you in any pain?” Leonard asked, eyeing your fluttering heart rate. 

Huffing out a breath you shook your head, “No I’m just-I have to get back to being a klutz in engineering. Thanks for patching me up again,” you hopped off the bed only wobbling for a second. Leonard grabbed your elbow to steady you an order to stay already on his lips. 

“I’m fine, you’re fine, we’re all fine and not-damn it stop looking at me like that!” you growled. Leonard smiled fully at that, 

“Like what?” he asked innocently knowing exactly what you meant. 

“Like I dunno! Like you want to…” you spluttered trailing off. Scratching the back of your neck you looked away trying to find the right words, sighing at your scrambled brain you did the only thing that could get your point across. Grabbing him by his blue shirt you pulled him forward so he was almost off the stool he was sitting on,

“Like this,” you breathed before capturing his lips with your own.

 You let him go after a minute, red-faced you looked up. He had a look of complete surprise and a stiff posture; you immediately regretted your actions. Rejection coursed through you as you back away toward the door, 

“Now that I made it weird, I’m going to make my exit,” you said hitting the door control so they hissed open. Halfway out of the room you felt a hand grab your uniform and a strong tug pulled you backward. Yelping indignantly you found yourself in the exam room again and the door firmly closed.  

“Wha-” 

You were pressed up against the wall by the biobed with his lips on yours. Gasping into his mouth you reached up and threaded your hands into his hair. Leonard took that as an invitation to explore your mouth as he moved his hands to your hips. 

Pulling back Leonard rested his forehead against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. “Please be more careful, okay darlin’?” 

“I make no promises,” you murmured letting your hands slide down from his hair so they rested on his chest. You smiled at his annoyed expression, 

“But I’ll try,” 

Leonard hummed lowering his head so he could whisper against your neck making promises of his own.

 Kissing you gently one more time he took his leave tossing an “I’ll see you tonight for dinner,” over his shoulder. 

You stalked past the nurse’s station where Christine and M’Benga sat chatting quietly. They both looked up at your approach. 

“Not. A. Word,” you growled at the blonde woman who merely smirked her eyes fixed upon the bruised spot just below your ear. After you fled back down to engineering Geoff groaned as Christine victoriously handed him a stack of PADDS full of reports that need to be done. 

Tags:

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Prompts:

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Star Trek X Reader: @lumar014ad

[starryeyedrookie]

The Newlywed Game: Friends Edition

A/N: Would you look at that! Two long posts in a day! Who am I?!😂 Anyway, sorry this took me a week to do. I finally had more time today so I was able to catch up. Thanks for the questions @jamespotterthefirst @takeharryandgo @crazy-loca-blog @coffeeheartaddict!

Questions for the friends

1. How did you first find out about their relationship? Were you surprised?

Sienna: I found out after they came back from the Miami conference and Evelyn told me everything that had happened and I promised not to tell anyone.

Naveen: I would say that I suspected something was up with them around that same time as well. When they were taking care of me, Ethan would keep glancing at her in a way that I had never seen him look at anyone.

Harper: Yes! I saw those glances as well.

Ethan: It suddenly feels like I’ve been examined under a microscope.

Jackie: Well, we all are doctors. For me, it was the night of the day that we went to the country club and I told Evelyn to text Ramsey. {rolls eyes} The girl went over to his place that night and didn’t come home until the next morning.

Elijah: That’s when I knew too.

Bryce: Man, I feel sorry that I didn’t get to see any of this. Jackie just messaged me.

2.How was the rumour mill at Edenbrook once they went public? Did you have to defend their honour?

Harper: Well, I don’t think anyone was surprised, honestly. They aren’t the best at being subtle.

Evelyn: Haha! Between the two of us, I think Ethan is worse.

Kyra: Can’t argue with that. Remember “paperwork?”

3. What was your first impression of Ethan? Did he fit into the friend group right away?

Kyra: Well, I had my first impression a while before the rest of the group did, but I thought he was hot as fuck.

Sienna: I thought he was quite imposing. The first time I met him is when he was yelling at Evelyn!

Bryce: Well I thought he was in great shape for an old guy.

Jackie: I wouldn’t say that he fit in instantly. Maybe he had to get used to the idea that one person could have so many friends.

Elijah: What about the time he did shots with us?

Jackie: Please. Do you know how long it took for Evelyn to convince him to lighten up?

4. What’s the most adorable thing they do as a couple?

Sienna: Sometimes at the hospital when they pass each other, I see them exchanging little notes. It’s so cute!

Jackie: Gross.

Sienna: Oh! Or when they dance together in the living room.

Raf: Sienna really is the softie of the group.

5. Which of their dates would you have liked to crash?

Raf: On Sundays, from morning to night, they do try out different hole-in-the-wall restaurants in and outside the city. I’d love to join them on that.

Kyra: Same. That one’s my favourite too.

Bryce: I’d either want to do an escape room with them, or go to Six Flags. I love rollercoasters.

Evelyn: So do I. Ethan isn’t a huge fan though. We don’t really go often because it’s a little far, but we should make a group trip next time!

Ethan: I just don’t see the purpose of rollercoasters. They’re just noise pollution. Why would you purposely put your life at risk going up over 200 feet off the ground, to come hurling down at over 70 miles an hour.

Evelyn: You sound like my mom.

6. Did you ever witness a walk of shame (or anything of the sort?)

Jackie: Hell yes! The morning Evelyn tried to sneak Ethan out of her room!

Elijah: I remember that. I asked him if he wanted to come back for my John Carpenter movie marathon.

7. What was your reaction when you found out Evelyn was moving out to move in with Ethan?

Jackie: Well I said that it’s about damn time! If you stay over at his place so many nights during the week, you might as well live with the man!

Sienna: It was a little bittersweet. Of course I was happy for my best friend, but I was a little sad that my baking buddy was leaving.

8. Who won the prediction pool about when Ethan would pop the question?

Everyone: Sienna!

Bryce: C’mon! That’s only because she cheated!

Ethan: To clarify, I had Sienna’s help with designing the ring.

Naveen: I will proudly say that I came the closest without having any information given to me.

Bryce: Naveen, I’m sure Ethan dropped hints to you.

Evelyn: {laughing} Just accept that you lost, Bryce.

9. Were you in the wedding party? What was your favourite part about the wedding?

Kyra: I was a bridesmaid, but my favourite part was the food.

Evelyn: Sienna, my sister Ally, Jackie, Aurora who couldn’t make it today, and Kyra were my bridesmaids.

Sienna: My favourite part was the first dance. It was so whimsical.

Ethan: I’m glad that was your favourite part. Eve made me practice it for months.

Harper: My favourite part was the lantern release. At the end of the reception, we all got a lantern to decorate, light, and release. I have a picture.

Evelyn: Don’t worry. They’re biodegradable.

For everyone, including Ethan and Evelyn.

Fuck/ Marry/ Kill

Ethan: Can I choose Evelyn for all except the last?

Bree: Don’t you think it would be more fun to play the game like a normal person?

Ethan: {grumbles something that can’t be understood}

Naveen: Since this is a young person’s game, I’ll sit this one out.

Harper: Me too.

Bryce: Are we only allowed to choose from the people here? Because Aurora and Tobias aren’t.

Ethan: Just the people here. Thank goodness Carrick isn’t here. He’d have a field day with this.

Bryce: Okay. Fuck Evelyn, marry Sienna, kill Jackie.

Jackie: Fuck you meathead. I’d kill Bryce, fuck Kyra, and marry Evelyn.

Kyra: Fuck Bryce, marry Sienna, kill Jackie.

Elijah: Fuck Kyra, marry Sienna, kill Bryce.

Sienna: Marry Raf, fuck Bryce, kill Jackie.

Raf: Marry Evelyn, fuck Sienna, kill Jackie.

Jackie: Why is everyone killing me?!

Ethan: Marry Evelyn, obviously. Kill Bryce and fuck myself.

Jackie: You had to choose three different people in the room, Ramsey.

Ethan: I’m in the room, aren’t I?

Evelyn: Well, I’m last. I’d marry Ethan, fuck Raf, and kill Jackie.

Jackie: Oh for fuck’s sake.

{everyone starts laughing}

Evelyn: Thanks do having us all today, Bree! We had so much fun!

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