#magret grey

[therealms-number1angirl]

Honestly, i don't think i'll ever really know if the shattered realms was genuinely good or not, because before I could really get into Flamecaster, HAN DIED!

And that was not only traumatic to Ash, it was traumatic as hell for me too. I didn't give af about jenna and her childhood crush. I WAS MOURNING! And then I continued to mourn for the rest of Flamecaster-- which made the entire reading experience terrible.

Then by Dreamcaster, I was still mourning. Han--but in a different way bc Lyss' grief felt more respectful to Han in some ways-- and CAT BC SHE APPARENTLY DIED TOO??? And I was also disturbed by the Raimon 'hints' (I believe it's mostly Lyss' own paranoia about her mom moving on, but still DISTURBING)

By Stormcaster the grief about Han was settling down, but then I got angry bc it finally hit me that Raisa and Han (THE WHOLE REASON THAT I READ ALL FOUR BOOKS BC OF) would never get a happy ending together. History repeats itself, just like with hanalea and alger, which is terrible since Raisa stuck it to her family at the end of Crimson Crown about how she was LEARNING FROM THE PAST! and there were more references to raisa moving on and spending the rest of her life with someone else and that made angry too, bc she's a half of my otp! idc if he died, idc if it's healthy and realistic to move on, THEY HAD JUST GOTTEN MARRIED!

And finally, by the time Lyss and Ash finally reunited with Han, and it was confirmed that Raisa and Han were meeting up in the amulet and would continue to do so, DEATHCASTER WAS OVER! oh, and don't get me started on magret, bc by that point i was too emotionally numb to grieve over her.

this isn't anything against the books as a whole, it's just my explanation as to why I post about Shattered Realms as much. I've never attempted to read them again bc of the trauma from the first read through, and thinking too much about it makes me sad again.

[beatriceportinari]

HELL YEAH it tastes good. rapberry lime yogurt chicken

inspired by some raspberry duck magret I had once, recipe under the cut. this was my first time trying this so my thoughts on betterment are at the end + i'm open to suggestions

recipe for one (->one chicken breast)

1 pot of raspberry yogurt

soy sauce, worcester sauce, sambal oelek, fish sauce, paprika (1 big teaspoon of each)

knob of ginger

lime zest and juice

salt and pepper

I taste tested to adjust, ended up needing quite a bit of lime zest for bitterness

cut up the chicken and leave to marinate for abt 1-2 hours

reheating : pan fried it. i messed up a bit here because i left some of the marinade on but this obviously prevented the chicken from grilling. in the future i'll try patting it dry->grilling-> then adding back the marinade. i was afraid adding it at the end would be too overpowering raspberry wise but it's really not. doing the latter half of the cooking process in the marinade would also prevent some dryness

anyway cook until chicken is done, salt+pepper+more lime zest and juice +raspberry jam for garnish. tadaa

Verdict :

Pros : the yogurt obviously makes the chicken really tender, and the spice from the sambal and paprika go really well with the tanginess and sweetness of the lime and raspberry.

Cons : a bit dry like I mentionned, need to refine to cooking process, and also not fuck around with pasta instead of checking my chicken. hoping adding more marinade+jam at the end of the cooking process will help. hoping the jam will also help the coloring ! the pleasant pink turned a sad little beige grey : (

overall really good+ i actually need to go harder on the raspberry, checkmate guys

let me know if you have more advice : )

hello fellow cooks. i have no neutral greek style yoghurt but i do have my dad's various fruit flavoured yoghurts. if i marinate my chicken in one of these will it work similarly. i don't know the bacterias well. thank you

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Warrior Daughter

Chapter Sixteen

Master List  |  Steve Rogers Master List  | Series Master List

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  |  Word Count: 5149 Warnings: language, slight angst

Song: Give Me A Sign by The Sweeplings (for the end of the chapter)

Eira stood in the kitchen area out of the way of her sisters returning to the feast with fresh platters of meat and gently wiped the blood from her cheek. Her heart thumped in her chest. Every time Bucky touched her, she felt it all the way to her soul.

She hadn’t noticed him on Midgard, too concerned with Loki and making sure Y/N knew she’d objected to the treatment of the God, but before the steps of Asgard, she’d looked up, and he’d been standing at her queen’s side. Tall. Dark. Commanding. 

Something inside her had leapt at seeing him. Her whole body felt as if it bent toward him in that instant. She’d had to look away before she did something crazy, like jump on him. Then the confrontation had escalated, forcing her to prioritize the Queen’s return over her muddled up feelings.

Later that night when she’d tried to sort them out again, she’d embarrassed herself at the feast instead. Loki had created a stunning dress, different but beautiful, and she’d felt so strong. So confident and powerful, and after finally working up the courage to ask him to dance, she’d successfully stuck her foot right in her mouth.

Narrow-minded and näive. That’s what she’d been. Bucky had been right to scold her for it, but dancing with him, being that close, looking into those amazing blue-grey eyes, the yearning to stay in his embrace forever had been so intense. Then, she’d played herself a fool.

It had been evident by his warning words he wasn’t interested in anything other than making sure Y/N stayed safe and protected. He thought Eira a child and immature in his eyes.

It had hurt so much. He was such a warrior, one she would be proud to name hers, but the implied rejection stung. She was a Valkyrie, one many a male had tried to entice to their knee, but none had caught her attention until him. Bucky.

James. Y/N had called him James more than once.

To make matters worse, Eira had let her hurt get the best of her when they’d flown together, making an even bigger fool of herself, and topping it off with a reprimand by the queen. 

She just kept making mistakes.

She’d thought she’d impressed him, maybe, during the mock fights today, but when he’d flirted with Magret at lunch...

Off to the side in the kitchen Eira hid her eyes behind the rag, feeling them burn with tears she’d thought she’d finished shedding earlier in the day. An extra long bath had been required when she’d cried so hard she’d reddened her eyes. So many times she’d thought about stepping back, letting go, but her heart wouldn’t let her. Her soul ached at the thought of it. Pain tore at her body and tears flooded her eyes.

She didn’t know how to tell him. She’d tired before dinner. Before they were interrupted, and Eira was grateful for that. After all, she wasn’t even sure he was her sjelevenn. It wasn’t as if she could ask many people. Only Gunborg, who she didn’t dare, not with how the woman was at odds with the queen, or Y/N.

Y/N who’d made it clear Bucky had one job. He was her guard. He was to keep his knees together. He was her protector and didn’t need outside distractions.

Eira understood that. She did. It didn’t stop her heart from leaping every time Bucky entered a room, or touched her hand, or smiled at her.

Is this what it’s like? A never-ending desire to be with him? By his side? To protect him from any and all harm?

“Eira!”

She snapped her head up at the cook’s yell.

“If you’re going to spend your off time in the kitchens, you may as well be serving. Out with you!”

She scurried out, taking the damp cloth with her, but slipped into an alcove off to one side where she was out of the way but couldn’t yet see the hall. Couldn’t see the table where the man who’s touched she longed for sat waiting for her to return so he could remove the blood from his hands. Blood he’d spilled in her defence.

Drumbeats fill the air, and Eira sighed. The entertainment was beginning. Entertainment she would take no pleasure in now.

Her heart and mind were too full of worries.

***

You looked up when the drums began and grinned. “Oh, fun!”

“What?” Steve asked.

“It’s the dancers tonight,” you said before drinking deeply from your cup. Valhalla mead tasted as good as you remembered.

Bjorn and Hvitserk returned to the table at a quick clip when two-thirds of the lights in the hall went out. They sat with their backs to the meal, as did Ragnar, Ivar, and Floki. Steve pulled you back into his lap, allowing Bucky to shift closer.

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked, propping his knee up on the bench when his gaze returned to the doorway Eira had disappeared through.

“Dancers. You’ll like this.” Valkyries rushed to clear much of the food from the tables. More could be requested at any time, but for the moment the space would be needed.

“What kind of dancers?” Steve asked.

“You’ll see!” you snickered, leaning into Steve’s broad chest.

He was warm, and the mead was potent. The music was sultry, building a beat which stirred the blood and subtly aroused the body. They came in ones and twos from the far side of the room, drifting through the hall in skirts of gossamer and silk. Bejewelled and beaded, what fabric encased and supported their breasts threw off sparkles when the candlelight caught them. The drums went silent, allowing the sound of the tiny bells wrapped around their ankles to chime in concert as they walked. It felt as if the room held its breath while the dancers got in position, spread out evenly amongst the tables.

The Valkyrie closest to you caught your eye. She was gorgeous. Ebony hair and skin the colour of caramels. Muscles rippled in her abdomen causing the jewel in her belly button to wink and sparkle. Her eyes were darkly lined and exotic looking. Her hands lifted with the others but contained an extra bit of grace. She pointed her toe and the strips of her skirt to fell to either side of her long bare limb. You knew in an instant she was talented beyond measure.

Too bad her soul was as tainted as Gunborg’s.

Steve made a quiet noise of disgust and chose to nuzzle into your neck rather than pay attention. “Can you dance?”

“Of course,” you chuckled. “I’m a Valkyrie.”

“Maybe you should give me a private one later.”

“Maybe I will,” you agreed, tilting your head to make room for his lips on your throat.

A crash of the drums and the women were off, leaping from the floor to the top of the closest table. They jumped and twirled, making their way through the hall. Each had a set of five tables to entertain, spending just enough time on each to give them men a show before leaping the heads of the warriors seated there to land lightly on the next.

The dark-haired Valkyrie landed on yours with barely a thump, showing off her skill. She spun and dipped and smiled. Her attention returned over and over too Bucky who seemed mostly immune to her charms, even when she dipped down and caressed his cheek. Then she was gone, moving on to entertain the next table, leaving Ragnar and his sons howling after her, cheering her on.

“I don’t like it,” Steve said in your ear. “She’s got something wrong with her, doesn’t she?”

You nodded slowly, watching her spin and move and laugh. She made the circuit three more times before you knew the dancing would come to an end. Often a dancer would choose a partner for the evening once they finished. A lucky man whose knee she’d warm. Those willing to make a choice, stepped from the table for the last part of the dance, weaving and spinning their way around the hall until she came upon the knee she wanted. Those who chose to refrain finished the dance on the tables.

“Sengali!” Bjorn shouted when she landed on the floor. “Let me warm your bed!”

“No, me!” bellowed Hvitserk.

Ivar shoved him from the bench. “She will join me!”

“Why not join a real man?” enticed Ragnar.

Sengali, the dancer, smiled as she dipped and twirled and shook her breasts, putting on a show as she made her way around the table only to drop down on Bucky’s bent knee. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hummed in pleasure. “Tonight I chose this one.”

Bucky sat there with his mouth open, momentarily stunned into immobility. “Uh, what?”

With his hands raised up and outward and how he leaned away from her, he reminded you so strongly of Steve when the woman plopped herself in his lap in Asgard; you snorted a giggle into the silence after the drums ended. “You have the right of refus-”

A jolt of awareness streaked your spine a split second before the rage-filled snarl ripped through the silent hall.

***

With the dancing nearly done, Eira took a deep breath and headed for the hall. It would be rude to return to her seat while they were performing, but she could watch from the bridge as those who wanted a companion for the night made their choices.

When she saw Sengali dancing around the table, her breath froze in her lungs. The Ragnarsons all cheered and called for her attention, but she passed them by. The most elegant of the Valkyrie, when Sengali danced, she had her pick of the warriors of Valhalla. Her body was a walking temptation no man could resist.

Eira’s heart leapt to her throat when she noted the way Bucky was sitting. No, technically it wasn’t an offer. His knee was bent up on the bench so he could lean closer and speak with Steve and Y/N over the noise most likely, but it was an opening. One Sengali seized on as she spun around and planted herself in his lap.

Pain screamed through Eira’s soul. “No.” She denied what her eyes were telling her when Sengali wrapped her arms around Bucky’s neck and leaned into him. When he made no move to dismiss the Valkyrie, Eira’s heart cracked, but his raised hands and slightly panicked look spoke more assuredly than his silence.

He didn’t want her. Sengali’s advance was as unwelcome as Ubbe’s had been.

Something feral unfurled within her. Someone was touching her sjelevenn. Hers!

She didn’t realize the snarl came from her throat. All she saw was red when she cleared the distance between herself and the table in a leap. Eira grabbed a fistful of Sengali’s hair, yanked her head back until she was forced to release Bucky, and jabbed a dagger pulled from his boot against the other woman's throat.

“Hvordan våger du å berøre min sjelevenn!” she spat at the woman whose eyes went wide in surprise.

“Eira?” Y/N gasped.

Her head snapped up, gaze colliding with that of her queen. “M-majesty…” Eira stuttered. “I-I…” She shot a glance at Bucky, staring at her with an unreadable expression and released Sengali who fell to the floor. “I’m sorry,” Eira whispered, looking from Y/N to Bucky. “I’m sorry.” His dagger slipped from her numb fingers as she began to back away. 

Bucky caught it before it hit the ground.

The silence of the hall had her looking around and cringing at the way everyone was staring at her. “I’m s-sorry!” Turning on her heel, Eira fled for the tree at the end of the room.

***

Bucky’s hard eyes cut to yours. “Did she say sjelevenn? As in the same as you and Steve?”

“How dare you touch my sjelevenn, yes.” You pushed from Steve’s embrace to go after Eira the same time Bucky did. “Sit down.”

“I don’t think so,” he growled. “I wanna know what the fuck just happened!”

“So do I!” you whisper hissed. “She should have declared it the moment you met.”

“So why didn’t she!?”

“I don’t know!” you snapped, making to step over the bench only to realize Sengali was still laying on the floor. “Find a different warrior for the night.”

“Yes, my queen,” she grumbled but stood gracefully. “Your loss, warrior. Burdened as you are with such a… maiden Valkyrie.”

Bucky’s hand shot out, wrapped around her throat, and dragged her toward him. “Say that again, and I’ll snap your neck.”

“Bucky!” you snapped. He released her, but not before fear wafted from Sengali. “Sit down. Eria won’t leave the hall without permission. Let me see if I can sort this out before you go snarl at her.”

“Wasn’t gonna snarl,” he grumbled as he sat beside Steve.

You picked the rag Eira had brought with her off the floor and thrust it at him. “Clean your hands.”

“Darlin’? You want me to go with you?” Steve asked.

“It’s Valhalla and Odin is present. No one would be stupid enough to try it,” you said as you walked away.

The festivities of the hall had been interrupted, and already Sengali was making a stink, pouting and gaining sympathy for Eira’s rude treatment. It wasn’t any different than what you'd done in Asgard, but Eira had not declared for Bucky. It could have been handled better.

Restless mutterings were growing when Thor clapped his hands and called for the next round of entertainment. A new group hurried in, but the damage was already done. Not even the fire dancers with their twirling batons could halt the slow descent of the hall into grumblings. You needed to find Eira and figure this out quickly so you could regain control of Valhalla.

With your gifts, it wasn’t difficult to find her curled among the roots back in the shadows with her arms wrapped around her knees. “Eira?”

She flinched away. “Please… please don’t hate me.”

The shock had you falling down beside her instead of sitting. “Hate you? Why would I hate you? You’re sister-kin, and this is something to be celebrated.”

“But…” she sniffled as she lifted her head. “You told him to keep his knees together. You made it clear. I thought you wanted him to remain undistracted.”

“Oh, Eira!” You reached for her and hugged her tight. “No, I’m so sorry. I was teasing him. This, all of it, it’s so different from what they are used too. Our ways, Valhalla, the way Valkyries do things when it comes to men, even how open we are about sex, it’s all so new to them. I had to explain things before we came here. One of those things was an offered knee. It surprised Bucky, and I’ve been teasing him about it ever since.”

“Oh…” she whispered, her heart slowing from the fast beat of a hummingbird’s wings to that of a running rabbit.  “It doesn’t matter anyway. He doesn’t want me.”

For the moment, you ignored that bit of foolishness. “Eira. Why didn’t you declare for him when you met in Asgard?”

She thrust the heel of her hand beneath her eye and smeared paint across her cheek. “I was just so… surprised. I’ve never felt anything like it before. Like all of me cried out and reached for him. But things moved so fast, and you made me your right hand, and then I was in a room with you and Thor and Loki… it was overwhelming. Then I was second guessing myself. What if I was wrong? It’s not like I could ask Gunborg.”

“And you thought I’d be upset,” you sighed. “And here I was worried you’d hurt each other if you found your sjelevenn with someone else after being with Bucky.”

“You were?” Her eyes were huge when she gaped at you.

“Eira, you’re family. Of course I’m going to worry about you. Bucky’s been family for a long time. I didn’t want to see either of you get hurt.”

She snuffled again. “Think it’s too late for that. He looked so angry.”

“Nah, that’s just a Barnes’ special. We call it ‘bitchy resting face,’ but he can pull it off when he’s surprised and doesn’t want to show it. Though I think he’s a little pissed you didn’t tell him sooner.”

“I tried before dinner tonight. We got interrupted.”

By you and Steve. “Crap. Sorry about that.”

“He won’t be happy about it anyway.” She brushed away more tears. “He thinks I’m young and foolish, and he’s right. I am. He deserves better than me.”

“And right there is where I call bullshit.”

“What?”

Pushing to your feet, you pulled her up with you and led her to the part of the tree where a slightly heavier stream of water ran. “Wash your face. You’ve smeared your paint. Might as well take it off.” She cupped her hands to collect the water. “The Norns know I’m no one to talk about relationships. Steve and me, we had a rocky start. Granted, it was caused by someone else meddling in the middle, but if I had just talked to Steve, it never would have gotten so far out of hand I ended up blind.”

She paused in her washing to peer at you curiously. “But you are here now, and your relationship is the strongest I’ve ever seen.”

“Yes, now. Because we talk to each other. Fear can only live in the shadows. If you take it out and expose it to the light, it’s not so scary anymore. The same goes for truth, love, feelings. Eira, if you know Bucky is your sjelevenn, you can’t let fear stand in your way. You’re meant to be together, and thinking he doesn’t want you,” you breathed out a harsh breath, “that can hurt a lot. But a lot of the time, it’s all in your head. I see the way he looks at you when you’re not watching.”

“Really? How?”

“Ask him.” You turned to walk away but paused and looked back. “You do not have my permission to leave the hall until you’ve worked things out with your sjelevenn. That means talk, Eira. Figure it out. I won’t begrudge you your happiness and Norn granted soulmate because he’s my guard. I’m pretty sure you’re both responsible enough to keep your personal and professional lives separate.”

“Yes, my queen.” She bowed deeply.

“I’ll send him to you.” Striding away, you paused at the opening to the hall and frowned. It was getting loud and rowdy and not in a good way.

“Father would like to know what you are going to do about this, sister dear, seeing as how it was your Valkyries who started it.”

You rolled your eyes but looked up at Loki. “I need two things from you and one from Thor.”

“Always happy to help, sweet Sváfa. Are you going to do something naughty?” he grinned wickedly.

“Only a little tricky, Loki.” You winked at him. “Only a little tricky.”

***

Steve stared at Bucky, as did everyone else at the table. “Buck…”

“Don't start, punk.”

“But, Bucky, this is great!” Steve couldn't be happier for him.

“Yeah. Great,” he muttered. “So great she ran outta here like her tail was on fire.” Bucky used the damp rag to clean the blood from his hand.

“No wonder you beat the hell out of Ubbe,” Ivar chuckled.

“Ivar,” Ragnar huffed. “Shut up.” He turned his intense eyes to Bucky. “Eira is sweet but unsure of herself. She has struggled to fit in as a Valkyrie. To still be a maiden at her age?” He clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“You're talking about stuff you don't have all the information for,” Bucky grumbled.

Steve kicked Bucky under the table. “You two have either been snarling at each other or flirting since we got here. Poor girl is probably so confused she doesn't know what you want. Especially after this afternoon and that whole show you put on with Magret.”

“Didn't mean nothing.” Bucky shrugged.

“I know that, but your girl likely took it hard.”

“She's not my girl.”

“Yet!” all the men around the table laughed. All except the one called Floki.

“You’re a strange fellow,” he murmured, peering closely at Bucky and ignoring the movement of the dancers around him. “Such darkness in you, but it is so… light. An evil once corrupt, now used only for good. It is… interesting. But a man who doesn’t want a Valkyrie as a mate? Now there is a true oddity.”

“I never said that.”

Steve watched Bucky play with his cup. “You like her, which is good. You’re supposed to like her.”

“Shut up!” he scoffed. “Doesn’t matter how I feel if she’s runnin’ like a scared rabbit.”

“Bucky.” Steve dropped his hand on Buck’s shoulder. “She’s your soulmate. You’re meant to be together!”

“Then why did she run?”

There was such a wealth of hurt and uncertainty in the depths of Bucky’s eyes Steve felt for him.

“Maybe you should ask her yourself, Sergeant,” Loki said as he walked by. “Y/N requests you join your Valkyrie beneath the roots.”

Bucky was up and gone before Steve could say anything. “And Y/N?” he called after Loki.

“She will return in a moment.”

“That was helpful,” Steve snorted into his cup.

“The God of Mischief is like that,” Floki snickered, his eyes following the woman throwing flaming batons into the air.

The others were all caught up in the dancer twirling and spinning between tables, except Ragnar who stood and moved around the end to sit again beside Steve.

“Now, tell me. What happens with Sváfa? She is here, but she has not been, and I am confused.”

“Look, Ragnar,” Steve sighed. “She trusts you, clearly, but I don’t know you.”

“Steven, son of Rogers, she is the queen I would follow into battle. The one I would lay down my undead life for. There is no other but Odin for whom I would make such a claim.”

“And your sons?” Steve nodded toward the others, catcalling loudly.

“She brought Ivar home and Floki. They would hold a shield wall for her. Bjorn was chosen by another, as were Hvitserk and Ubbe, but each has nothing but respect for her. She used to come to the fields and fight among the men, laughing and smiling, a kind word for all. Her presence has been missed.”

Steve could find nothing false in his words. No hint of deception. Y/N wouldn’t trust him without reason. “She was born on Midgard.”

“A quiet life. She seems to have had many.”

“Only because someone here has made sure of it. They locked her soul out of Asgard. We don’t know why yet.”

Ragnar’s eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in anger as he leaned forward. “What? Who?”

“Don’t know that either. She ended up with us, my team, on Earth and we fell in love, but there was a guy, Garry. His purpose was to fuck things up between us. Unfortunately,” Steve sighed, “he succeeded. Y/N ran away. He convinced her I’d been unfaithful, then kidnapped her. Our enemies are called Hydra. Specifically the Hounds of Hydra. They’re evil. I’ve fought their kind before. The experimented on her.” When Ragnar frowned, Steve murmured, “Like magic. They did spells on her. Painful ones, trying to break her back to her first life. Make her Sváfa again. They tried to erase who she was to use her connection to the Valkyrjur. They failed, but not before damaging her sight.”

“She is blind?” Ragnar asked, nodding slowly. “I wondered. Her eyes are beautiful but haunting. So different from the past.”

“Partially, yeah. She had a teacher, a friend of ours who taught her to fight without them. If you didn’t know she was blind, you never would. Her abilities are incredible.”

“Says the man who is her husband.”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, well, doesn't mean I'm wrong. After she killed the ljå, we knew we’d have to come here. Our souls are out of sync, and according to Freyja, Y/N should have been reborn as Queen over and over. She’s the one Freyja wanted ruling here. She’s meant to sit on the throne.”

Another slow nod came from Ragnar. “Yes. Yes, I can see that. The… feel of Valhalla has been changing.”

“How do you mean?”

“What was once a joy, has become… a burden. Valhalla is full of men who seem confused to be here. Some, far from fitting to be Einherjar.” He brought his fist down on the table. “It makes no sense!”

“I know. She knows. We’re figuring it out.”

“Tell me what I can do to assist?”

Steve frowned as he looked around, the noise was growing into rowdy bouts of shoving and anger. “We need to know more of the Einherjar. Of the people. Y/N is going to visit tomorrow with Bucky while I’m off doing… that.” He motioned toward Odin with his head.

“It’s an honour to ride with Odin. Just… stay on your horse,” Ragnar chuckled.

“Roger that,” Steve snickered.

A crack of thunder deafened all of them, causing the room to fall into silence, and all to look toward Thor covered in lightning. “Friends! Something special for your enjoyment. The lovely Sváfa.”

Steve’s heart jumped. If she was gonna dance, he might have to kill a few people, but when she walked out of the shadows beneath the tree, she was packing a… guitar?

“Let the songbird sing!” bellowed Ragnar.

***

You chuckled at Ragnar’s yell and lightly strummed the strings of the guitar. No, you hadn’t known how to play or sing or dance in this life, but in others, you'd accomplished all three, and as a Valkyrie, singing had been your forte. Even in this life, you’d loved to sing. Music was an essential part of your world; had been since the very beginning.

Loki had done as you’d requested, creating a guitar, a non-traditional instrument for Valhalla but one you could play and sing with unaccompanied. He’d then retrieved Bucky, who’d glanced at you curiously before stomping into the shadows. And finally, you’d asked him to ask Thor to get everyone’s attention.

In the interim, you’d been watching the hall and Gunborg’s group in particular. She held court. There was no other way to describe what was taking place in her section of the room.

Men of the Einherjar came and paid their respects, fawned and flirted - to her sjelevenn’s displeasure. The Valkyrie who supported her laughed and drank with the men, each one using their bodies as weapons to seduce and entice.

It sickened you, but it was clear where the darkness in the heart of the Valkyrjur was coming from. But why? How? For what purpose? No Valkyrie had ever been unhappy with their existence before. Not as far as you knew anyway. What had happened to Gunborg to turn her mind like this?

Now wasn’t the time to contemplate Gunborg’s life choices. Not when every eye in Valhalla was upon you. The Einherjar needed a distraction, so you’d give them one.

It had been a while, but the feel of the strings and stretch of your fingers around the neck of the guitar, pressing down and sliding over the fretboard came back quickly as you stepped up on a bench and out onto the tabletop to make your way down the center of the hall. “I can hear your voice, across the night. Calling me by name, giving me a sign. There's never been a sound that could bring me to my feet, shake my bones, awaken me.”

You smiled left and right, nodding here and there when you came across faces you recognized, or ones you didn’t but who stared up at you in awe. “I feel it from inside I'll come running, through the dark to get to you. Every step's alive getting closer. There's nothing that I wouldn't do.”

It almost made you laugh when at each crossing, two or three would bend and brace their hands on their knees, offering you their back as a bridge for your bare feet rather than make you jump. “I can almost see it all. The fog has cleared. The echo of your voice, in my ears. I could leave you footprints in the snow.” You smiled when snowflakes began drifting down around you and shot a wink at Loki. “Or a blazing fire, to lead you home.”

Dead center of the hall, you slowed to a stop where all good see you. “I feel it from inside I'll come running, through the dark to get to you. Every step's alive getting closer. There's nothing that I wouldn't do.”

You lifted your hand from the strings to keep time against the body. Loki’s snow which had swirled and curled around you, dancing through your hair and around your feet, became a quiet downfall. “La dum, la dum. La dum, la dum. I'll come running, give me a sign. La dum, la dum. La dum, la dum. Just come home dear, not far behind.”

You felt him long before he moved, but when Steve stood slowly from the table not far to your right, you turned toward him and laid your hand against the guitar to sing out into the silence.

“I can feel it in the air, you're almost here,” he harmonized with you, his voice so pure, ringing through the hall like magic. “Pulling me forward, drawing near.”

You laughed, and the snow swirled when you strummed your fingers over the strings. “I feel it from inside I'll come running, through the dark to get to you.” Steve’s pace matched the beat, bringing him closer with each swaggering stride. “Every step's alive getting closer. There's nothing that I wouldn't do.”

He came to a stop at the end of the table where he held out his hand. You slung the guitar around to your back, took his hand and stepped to the ground. There you stood, hand in his with the other resting on his chest. His free one wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer.

“I can hear your voice, across the night. Calling me by name, giving me a sign.”

Steve smiled, ducked his head, and kissed you hard, sending the Einherjar into a frenzy of approval.

Next Chapter

[whichhannahsmith]

A fun Stardew Valley fanfiction I wrote mostly for myself and my friends... wasn’t really planning on posting it but figured why not. I enjoy playing this game so much so why not write about it!

You can read it on Wattpad

Or here:

Grandfather’s Letter

Uniformity. That was the goal that Joja had set out for themselves when they had started and that was the rule that they had enforced. Each cubicle was sad, grey, and boring. Perfectly reflecting Joja in every way. The only decorations allowed were Joja sponsored posters which had varying logos telling you to smile, and how much better life was with Joja. There was even one of those cheesy motivational posters in the break room with a kitten hanging from a branch telling you to just “hang in there”. Not that anyone was allowed to use the break room. It was just there for show. 

It was actually a miracle that Isa and Mey had stumbled across the break room in the first place. They had gotten lost on their way out and discovered it collecting cobwebs and dust. Mey had actually made a joke saying that they were probably only the second people ever to discover this legendary relic. The kitten poster was actually one of the few things of color that seemed to have been allowed in an otherwise monochrome building. Well, the kitten, the green of the giant light that was eternally lit up next to the word “work”, and the flashing red light on the security cameras located above each cubicle. It was great, they didn’t even have to decorate for the Feast of the Winterstar. Having the green and red already spattered throughout the office.

The office was also already decorated for Spirit’s Eve. Two desks in front of Mey was a plastic skeleton slumped over a keyboard. It had been placed there over a year ago, either as a memorial to the employee who had spent two days dead on his desk before someone noticed or as a sick joke. Either way it had yet to be moved. Mey and Isa had dubbed him Paul after the nameplate that had been left on his desk. Not that the nameplate meant anything. Isa had a nameplate on her desk that read “Magret” and Mey’s read “Kyle”. They hadn’t been changed since the original people and after three years in the company a new one wasn’t on the way.

It was another grey day, not that you could really tell from the windowless interior of the room that made up Joja’s work floor. The only evidence that it was late winter were the heavy jackets hung up neatly on the back wall of each cubicle. One of the few perks of working at Joja was that they had heating in the winter and air conditioning in the summer. Some joked that the changing of the air temperature in the building was the only way you could tell the changing of the seasons.

Isa had been staring at her computer screen for hours, like every other day and took a second to readjust her position in her chair so her back didn’t hurt so much. She could hear Mey in the cubicle next to her typing away at her keyboard and the man two rows back pop open yet another Joja cola. She drew a small tally on a sticky note, marking the sixth one that day. A dangerous game to play when bathroom breaks were frowned upon. 

Mey pushed back from her desk, standing up and walking around the tall cubicle wall so that she was standing behind Isa. Each box housed an employee and they were built to discourage interaction between coworkers. Mey could care less though, especially when she had spent at least four straight hours entering in price units and keeping track of recent stock. 

“Do you have the winter finance report from last year?” She asked Isa, who blinked slowly in reply. She hummed quietly as she opened up drawer after drawer, shuffling through old reports, documents and employee conduct updates. It wasn’t looking good when something caught Mey’s eye.

“Wait! What was that?” Among the black and white army of words and papers a flash of color had piqued Mey’s interest. Isa went back through the files, until a yellowed envelope with a purple seal settled into view. 

It brought on an instant feeling of nostalgia between the two women. Recognizing immediately where it was from. Memories of a time before Joja. When university gave them sleepless nights and hope for a bright future. When they vowed never to take a desk job. When they would spend time with their adopted grandfather at the nursing home. They had originally signed up for the volunteer program in their freshman year of college when they still had plenty of free time. Little did they know how attached to the funny and quirky old man at the nursing home they would be. They stayed by his side for the next four years. 

It was in their fourth year, only a couple of months before the two friends would be celebrating graduation. Their friend’s health at the nursing home had taken a sharp turn. Both women knew that he had no other family and wanted to be there for him. They passed up on many opportunities in order to be there for him in his last two months, but they regretted nothing. 

That was how they had ended up getting their desk jobs at Joja. Joja had scouted them while they were both depressed and in need of a distraction... and a job. It was meant to be temporary, but three years later it was seeming rather permanent. 

Then they found the letter. It was working hours. They had already stalled long enough, any longer and someone would come by to remind them of what they were supposed to be doing. However, both seemed to recall the same memory at the same time. An echoing of words… patience… and a burden.

Isa popped the seal, the warm, solid wax splitting from the paper. The blinking red light of the security camera above their heads the furthest thing from their minds. Inside was a carefully written letter in a scrawling, familiar script. Isa looked to Mey before diving into the contents of the letter, ready to see what final wisdom their grandfather wished to impart upon them.

***

“It’s madness! We don’t know the first thing about farming!” Isa argued as her long strides took her through the crowded city streets. Mey was just ahead of her on a warpath to the apartment to see the contents of her own letter.

“Says the girl who fills our apartment with as many plants as she possibly can.” Mey retorted.

“Growing individual plants in pots and hundreds of plants in a field are two very different things.”

“We’ll learn! We can buy books and…”

“You don’t learn how to farm through books! You need a degree! And a mentor! And real life experience!”

“It’s a way out! Don’t you see!” Mey ducked between two businessmen+. Isa had come to a sudden stop behind them and then had to jog to catch up to Mey. Her breath coming out of her mouth in short bursts of fog.

“Can we just... stop for a second? It’s been waiting there for three years, what’s a little longer?” Isa pleaded.

“It can’t wait. Not now that we’ve seen it.”

Mey burst into their tiny apartment, which was filled with more furniture than there was space. This, of course, was saying something as they really didn’t have that much furniture. Isa followed behind Mey, carefully pulling off her toe-pinching heels as she watched Mey run around the apartment looking for where she stashed the letter. 

It didn’t take long for her to return triumphantly, letter in hand. It was only then that she hesitated. One hand gripping the letter as the other hovered over the identical purple seal. Isa sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Well?”

Mey carefully broke open the seal, a tongue of ripped paper sticking to the wax where it had been pulled up. The letter snagged against the envelope as she pulled it out. Unfolding the letter Mey’s eyes hungrily snapped across the rows of text. She had always been a faster reader than Isa.

“It’s the same,” she sighed as her lips turned up into a smile. Mey sat down on the sofa and Isa joined her, holding her own letter next to Mey’s. Each containing the same promise of the inheritance of the Firefly Farm.

 “You know for a second I was actually worried that I wasn’t going to be able to go with you. That I was going to be stuck at Joja all alone with this stupid dumbass desk job.”

“You know he wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I know… but that didn’t mean that I was any less… afraid.” Mey looked away from Isa. “We promised that we would never get stuck in this kind of dead end job. How did this happen to us?”

“I… I don’t know. It still feels like yesterday when we signed  those contracts with Joja… and yet at the same times it feels like we’ve been here all our lives.” 

“I know we joke about that skeleton in the cubicle over, but Isa… I can’t end up like that. We've worked too hard and gone through too much to just give up.”

“It sounds like you’ve made up your mind…”

“I won’t leave without you, but I just… I just can’t stay here anymore…” Mey sighed heavily.” Isa gave her a small smile in return.

“Okay, then what do we need to do?”

“First we need to check that the will still stands and that we are still able to inherit the estate. Then,” She started, as she got up from the couch to stand up on the coffee table. Isa tried to stop her as it wobbled precariously under her. It was after all, just a cheap ass piece of furniture. “we give that god damn sack of shit Morris, our two weeks!” 

“It’s actually Justine now, Morris got shipped off to oversee the opening of a new store remember?”

“Who the fuck cares! We’re outta there!”

***

The rest of the season passed in a flurry in activity. Lawyers were contacted, the will was checked and despite the small hiccup of him referring to them as his granddaughters in the will and them not being his actual granddaughters the matter was quickly resolved. With this knowledge in mind they walked up to their managers Monday morning and handed in their two weeks notice. Rumors quickly spread throughout the office. It was well known that the only way you left Joja was forced retirement or on a stretcher to the morgue. So it was rather astonishing that someone was walking out on their own accord, and not just one person, but two!

In the little free time they had, Isa and Mey sold off most of their furniture in the hopes of having a little more money in their pocket and packed up anything that would fit in their suitcases for the bus ride to Stardew Valley. 

They went to the library and rented as many books about farming and gardening as they could, reading late into the night. The information was useful but foreign to them as they learned about different kinds of soil, fertilizer, plants, water and ph levels. So many things to learn and so little time.

The night before it was time to leave, Isa and Mey lay on their floor swaddled in the left over from their old beds duvets. Their minds raced with the impossibility of what they were about to do the next day. When sleep did come it was light and on the edge of waking the entire time.

Before the winter sun had even risen they were up, packing up their blankets and any final belongings that lay scattered on their barren apartment floor. Seeing the empty apartment felt so final. When they had first moved in it had been such an exciting place, now it just felt small and sad. 

As they walked the unfamiliar path to the bus terminal their thoughts turned towards their new home. A place they had never seen before. Their grandfather had told them so many stories of his old home. A quaint building with no more space than was necessary and a fireplace big enough to keep the entire place warm in the winter. It was supposed to be akin to a log cabin. 

The image created from their memories was fond and warm, but reality added time to the images conjured in their heads and an all too real fear of what state they may find their new home in.

They boarded the bus in silence as the reality of what they were about to do settled in their minds. The quiet hum of conversations between the other passengers filled the otherwise quiet space. 

The bus roared to life and pulled away from the station, from the quiet afternoon, and from Zuzu city towards an unknown but all the same exciting future. 

[dalaidenneg]

Magret de Canard à l’Orange sauce Earl Grey, julienne de Carottes et Pommes Dauphine... y a pas de mal à se faire du bien #foodporn #yummy #duck #orange #earlgrey #homemadecooking #instagood #photooftheday #picoftheday #webstagram #iphonography #igersbelgium #igers https://ift.tt/2QCJDdT

[therealms-number1angirl]

OMGOSH THIS WAS BEAUTIFUL 😭❤️

let it snow

For @authorgirl0131, for the Seven Realms Secret Santa!

General | Han Alister/Raisa ana’Marianna | Fluff, Snowball Fight, Ice Skating, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon

Summary: The first snowfall after the events of The Crimson Crown.

Read it on AO3 or below the cut.

The snow fell gently, dusting the city below Raisa ana’Marianna as she stood in her room, looking out of the window.

It had been three months since her marriage — three months married to Han, three months since the Demonai and wizards had worked together to rout the Ardenine army and General Klemath’s mercenaries, three months in which Montaigne had licked his wounds and failed to mount any serious attack. Raisa knew his counterattack would be coming — she had refused his hand in marriage and then defeated him in battle; there was no way he’d ever let her go — but he wouldn’t make a move until the summer. If he tried it now, his troops would freeze, starve, and/or be easy pickings for the Demonai. For now, Fells was safe.

Warm arms wrapped around her from behind, but Raisa didn’t flinch, turning to face Han as he held her close. “You weren’t there when I woke up,” he said in explanation, voice rough with sleep.

“My apologies.” She smiled, leaning in to kiss him, and forgot about the world for a moment in the feel of his lips on hers.

Han pulled back, however, shivering slightly. “It’s cold. Come back to bed.”

“Consider that you might only be cold because you’re not wearing a shirt,” Raisa replied.

“Are you complaining?”

“Of course not.” She grinned at him, running her hands across his shoulders and down his arms, pressing a kiss to his collarbone and noting the goosebumps that appeared along his skin. “You’re the one saying you’re cold.”

He huffed, kissing her again, probably to get her to stop talking. “Is there a reason you’re awake?”

“It’s snowing.”

Han followed her gaze out of the window. “Good for keeping the Ardenine army away,” he noted.

“And also for snowball fights.”

“We are not going to have a snowball fight,” Han said.

~

They were having a snowball fight.

And in the courtyard of the castle, no less. The snow had fallen thick and fast, as it usually did in the Fells, burying the courtyard in a foot-thick layer. Raisa had cancelled all the meetings for the day (“it’s snowing, General Dunedain, Arne isn’t about to invade, I think today’s meeting can wait”) and he’d been helpless to resist as she dragged him outside. Cat and Dancer had come as well.

Perhaps the snowball fight was slightly childish, but Han didn’t particularly care, because he got to see Raisa laugh (even if the price was taking a snowball to the head).

Han burst out laughing in turn at the look on Raisa’s face as his snowball slammed into her, though he stopped when Cat’s perfectly aimed return throw knocked him back a step. Dancer sent two snowballs back at the girls, one of which Raisa dodged while the other hit Cat on the shoulder. Raisa ducked behind a makeshift barricade she’d built, and Han raised a snowball, ready to throw as soon as she reappeared — only to get hit in the face by another snowball from Cat, which made him miss his moment and get hit three times by Raisa before he brushed enough snow out of his face that he could see. Dancer had managed to get Cat, but she’d retaliated viciously and he was retreating beneath her attack.

The two boys regrouped behind their own barricade. “Wish we could use magic,” Han complained.

“We’d win too easily,” Dancer replied. That, of course, was precisely why they’d agreed that magic was cheating, and it was true that it’d give them an unfair advantage, especially with Dancer’s unique ability to control the elements (including the snow itself) — but that didn’t change the fact that they were going to lose without it.

With a sigh, Han began making snowballs by hand. “Last-ditch attempt to charge them?”

Dancer nodded, and the two stood up from the wall they’d built to run at the girls, who immediately bombarded them with snowballs. Cat launched herself over the barrier at Dancer, knocking him down. Han didn’t stop, however, running all the way to the barricade behind which Raisa was standing as she threw snowballs.

They ended up lying in the snow, Raisa sitting on top of him with a snowball raised threateningly, and he couldn’t resist pulling her down into a kiss. The snowball dropped harmlessly into a drift beside him.

Then, of course, he had to use the moment to his advantage and shove some snow into her face. The moments that it took her to re-orient herself allowed him to get well away before she began to chase after him, screaming bloody murder, and he knew he’d most likely end up with his own faceful of snow.

~

There was a small lake a little way away from Fellsmarch, and Raisa snuck away from Cat and Dancer (not particularly difficult, as they were making out, though perhaps she wasn’t one to judge) to bring Han there.

She remembered skating there many times as a child, her mother showing her how to balance on the skates and then how to move on them, how to turn, how to spin, how to go backwards, until she was as nimble on the ice as she was on land, if not more so. It’d been one of the few times that she hadn’t felt jealous of Mellony for the attention that she got from their mother — Mellony had been too young to skate when Raisa had started, and even when she was old enough, she preferred to stay inside.

So Raisa had fond memories of the lake, and she hoped she could make more now, with Han at her side. If the lake was frozen, that is; it was early enough in the year that it might not be, but the temperature was low enough that she hoped so. And if not, they could always come back some other time.

“I don’t know how to ice skate,” Han protested.

“I taught you how to dance, I can teach you to skate,” she replied teasingly.

Han smiled involuntarily, and they continued on to the lake.

It was indeed frozen, and it didn’t crack when they threw rocks into the middle, so Raisa pulled on the skates she’d brought before helping Han with the ones she’d got him. He stood up, wavering slightly as he tried to balance, but he managed to remain standing.

“Now follow me,” she said.

Han fell. Several times. By the third time, she’d realized that she needed to stick closer beside him rather than expecting him to know how to skate immediately (it should have been obvious, but it had been a long time since she’d learned to skate herself), and so she held his hands, moving backward while facing him so that he could find his feet.

That meant, of course, that when he fell, she fell as well, and they ended up on the ground together more often than not. The falls grew less often as time went on, though, until Raisa went from skating backwards to skating at his side, holding hands. It eventually became clear that they really didn’t need to be holding hands any longer — Han wasn’t falling much anymore — but neither one particularly wanted to let go.

She told him about all those days learning to skate here, and the conversation devolved into simply discussing their lives, telling stories about all those little details of the other’s life that they’d never had a chance to learn. They didn’t discuss the war, by mutual if silent consensus, and Raisa didn’t think she’d ever laughed so much before.

Eventually, however, they started to feel cold, and they had to pack up and head home. Magret had somehow known that they were coming, bringing them mugs of hot cocoa as they sat by the fire in their room. Cat complained that she was supposed to be Raisa’s bodyguard, and she couldn’t exactly protect her if she was constantly running off, but subsided when Magret offered her a mug of cocoa as well.

~

Somebody found a board game, and the evening passed in warmth and laughter (aside from the fact that Cat was definitely cheating, though nobody seemed to believe Han when he said so — perhaps it was because he was winning, despite Cat’s cheating). Raisa curled up, leaning against his shoulder, watching Cat and Han bicker while Dancer laughed at the two of them and Magret served seemingly unending mugs of cocoa.

Tomorrow, they’d have to think about Arne again, about Montaigne’s plans for revenge, about the war. But for now, it was snowing outside, and the fire was warm, and the worries could wait until tomorrow.

Han smiled, an arm curving up to hold Raisa close.

[paper-star]

alphabeticalness

Rules - copy this post into a new text post, remove my answers and put in your own. when you are done tag up to 10 people and also tag the person that tagged you….most importantly, have fun!

Tagged by @swingsdown​

a / age - 25 b / biggest fear - deaths of loved ones and being left behind (or just being left) c / current time - 2:24 PM d / drink you had last - water e / everyday starts with - feed the cats and stumble back to bed  f / favourite song -  too many! but lately i love “big picture” by london grammar

g/ ghosts are real? - probably? but i’d like if they left me alone tbh

h / hometown - columbus, ga i / in love with - kyle. and sleeping. j / jealous of - i am a leo (see below), and thus the list never ends. but primarily people who just seem to have it all together and still manage to stay fun and sweet.  k / killed someone - no???? l / last time you cried - probably last week?  m / middle name - hyewon

n / number of siblings - one o / one wish - to attain infallible self-assurance p / person you last called/texted - kyle q / questions you’re always asked - “where did you go to school?”

r / reasons to smile - i am a healthy, relatively well-functioning, financially stable young adult with good friendships... i feel like, in the grand scheme of things, that makes me pretty lucky. s / song last sang – honestly? “eye of the tiger” lol t / time you woke up - 7:35 u / underwear colour - grey and pink v / vacation destination - oh, i can’t pick. paris? maldives? i’d go back to seattle in a heartbeat (but i really just want to live there so idk if that counts)

w / worst habit – foot-in-mouth syndrome and probably being way too self-critical (which is a lethal combination)

x / xrays you have had – 2? 3?  y / your favourite food - this isn’t a fair question bc i love all food ;-; maybe pasta? tiramisu? rice? strawberry shortcake???

z / zodiac sign - leo

i tag @magret-rose, @starcandii, and @magistera!

[barefootblogger-france]

If you’ve been to Paris before, you might not want to see the Eiffel Tower every time you return. This visit to Paris, I chose to stay in Montmartre. In just two days I got a taste of the town. And I loved it! Now I have my favorite 5 to do’s in Montmartre.

I confess, I’ve been to Montmartre before. A night at the Moulin Rouge was high on the “must do” list when I was a twenty-something in Paris for the first time with college friends. In the 60s it was pretty raunchy.  I stood in the line and walked through the  Sacré Coeur Cathedral many years later.

So what do you do in Montmartre if you’ve been to the Moulin Rouge and Sacré Coeur? Plenty!

  5 To Do’s in Montmartre

#1  Cooking Class

Cook’n with Class Paris

Go to a cooking class at Cook’n with Class Paris. If it’s a Sunday, all the better. The Sunday Market Class includes shopping at the city market. Then you go back to the school to prepare a sumptuous meal with all the fresh ingredients. Read all about the fun experience — click here.

#2 Enjoy the Scenery

Even on a cloudy day, Montmartre is charming. Check out the patisseries and cafes along the way.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Who knows who you’ll run into? My good buddy and playwright, Silver Wainhouse! She lives near me in Uzès and she was in town for the day. 

#3 Eat the food

Take your time to find just the right spot to have lunch or a snack. I mean, is there anything quite as good as French Onion Soup — in France?  Pair that with a glass of your favorite wine and you’re just about in heaven.

One day, wandering around near Pigalle, what should appear? Le Chat Noir. Right out of a Toulouse Lautrec poster.

Le Chat Noir

I expected Picasso or Toulouse to walk in any moment. Surely they would enjoy the cafe’s Paysanne salad — filled with duck magret and gizzards. I did!

Inside Le Chat Noir

Le Chat Noir’s Paysanne Salad – with gizzards!

#4 Climb the hill to Sacrè Couer

Go ahead. Even if you’ve been to the Sacrè Couer, do it again.  The views are spectacular. Yes, it’s quite a hike to the top, but there’s a lift and a small train that can take you up. If you’re around on a weekend, plan to have a coffee and croissant while sitting at a cafe near where the artists hang out. You might even snag a painting at a good price. It’s what memories are made of.

Imagine yourself here…

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Musée de Montmartre

#5 Visit Musée de Montmartre

If you want to take a trip through Montmartre’s past — to actually see where artists, writers and sculptors such as Renoir, Émile Bernard, Suzanne Valadon, Pierre Reverdy and Demetrius Galanis actually lived and worked, visit the Musée de Montmartre. It’s tucked away on a side street at the top of Montmartre and it’s worth the stop.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Would I stay in Montmartre again? Absolutely! 

I don’t always “plug” a place that I stay when I’m traveling, but I have to give a big shout out to Le Grey Hotel. The boutique hotel is so convenient to everything I wanted to see and do on my short stay. The staff is extremely friendly and helpful. The breakfast is fresh, tasty and served late into the morning. And there is a bar and sitting room that’s cozy and inviting.

My little terrace

Next stop: Living Like A Royal!

5 To Do’s in Montmartre If you've been to Paris before, you might not want to see the Eiffel Tower every time you return.

[therealms-number1angirl]

Hallie, jokingly: Han, don't you dare hurt her. Han laughs: I won't. Magret: Don't laugh, boy, she means it. Han: I-I won't. Pearlie: Seriously, don't hurt her. Han: Okay. I'm not planning on hurting her. Amon: You better not be. Han: I'm not. Talia: Hey, Han, you best watch yourself. Han: Why do you any of you think that I would hurt Raisa? You're all my friends too. Cat: Eh.

[therealms-number1angirl]

(Magret is blue, Kidnapper is grey)

[therealms-number1angirl]

Magret: Nice work.

Cat: Good. Thanks, mom.

Everyone:

Cat: Why is everyone staring at me?

Amon: You just called Magret 'mom'. You said, 'thanks, mom'.

Cat: What? No I didn't.

Magret: Do you see me as a mother figure, Tyburn?

Cat: No. If anything, I see you as a BOTHER figure. Cause you're always bothering me.

Han: Hey, show your mother some respect!

Cat: I didn't call her mom!

Magret: No, no, no, no, Caterina, I take it as a compliment.

Talia: It's not a big deal. I called Pearlie mom once, and she's my fiancee.

Cat: Guys! Jump on that! Abbott has psycho-sexual issues!

Raisa: Old news, but you calling Magret 'mommy'--

Cat: Hey, 'mommy' is not on the table here!

Micah: But, you did call her mom.

Cat: You, shut up, you've done nothing but lie since you got here.

[therealms-number1angirl]

Raisa: Now, let's say you haven't eaten for days and you're in desperate need of a sandwich. What do you do?

Lyss: I walk over to Magret and have her make me a sandwich.

Raisa: Ok, yes. But Magret's not there.

Ash: Where's Magret?

Raisa: It's not important where she is. She's gone. She left the country.

Ash: She left the country? Why? Is she ok?

Raisa: Yes, she's fine.

Lyss: Well, if she's fine, I don't see why she couldn't make me a sandwich.

[therealms-number1angirl]

Cat: You know, in a weird way, I'm gonna miss our routine.

Magret: Yes, and in an even weirder way, I think I might actually miss you.

Cat: And in an even weirder way, I want you to be my mom.

Magret: That is weirder.

Cat: Yeah, I got stuff.

[therealms-number1angirl]

The insistent rap of knocks on Raisa’s bedroom door pulled her out of her deep slumber. 

She was warm and content from the blend of her soft blankets, and Han wrapped around her. They’d fallen asleep on opposite sides of her huge bed, and yet here he was, nose pressed into the side of her neck, one leg thrown over hers, the tips of his hair tickling her nose. 

It wasn’t a complete surprise. Raisa had learned early on that Han was a rowdy sleeper. 

She smiles softly, gently running a hand through his hair, enjoying the softness of him as he sleeps. Then, the rude knocks pull her out of her revery. 

Groaning, Raisa gets to her feet, clad only in her favorite loungewear— a grey ‘Southbridge High School’ sweatshirt that she wore like a dress since it easily went down to her knees. 

(Han had given it to her that first night— when they had gotten caught in the rain while walking home. Neither of them had brought more than a light jacket, and were shivering in the cold rain. 

“My place is close by,” Han had told her. “I can lend you a jacket.” 

He’d ended up giving her this hoodie and his number for when she returned it. They had kept in touch, but it was almost  two years later, and Raisa still hadn’t returned his hoodie.)

Raisa rubs at her eyes as she stumbles to the door, and opens it up, expecting it to be her sister or her mother or some other, even more uninvited guest. 

“What do you—“ She stops herself from continuing, a real smile forming on her face as she sees who’s in front of her. 

“You have some explaining to do, Missy.” Magret Gray, her childhood nanny says, standing in Raisa’s doorway, arms crossed over her chest, and tapping her foot in the same way she used to do when Raisa had been naughty as a child. 

Magret was an old family friend to Raisa’s grandmother, Lissa, and had watched Marianna and her sister daily when their mother was busy. 

When Marianna had had children of her own, she’d enlisted Magret’s help. And even after Raisa and Mellony had grown too old for a babysitter, Magret had stayed on as Marianna’s chief of staff for the home. 

“Magret!” Raisa squeals, throwing herself into the older woman’s arms. 

“Don’t you ‘Magret’, me!” Magret grumbles, though she accepts the hug anyway, and embraces Raisa right back. 

Raisa smiles into Magret’s shoulder, enjoying the comfort of the embrace after the stresses of yesterday. “I’ve missed you.” 

Magret pulls Raisa back, taking in the younger girls appearance. She wrinkles her nose at the sweatshirt that Raisa was wearing, twists a strand of Raisa’s short hair in between her fingers. “You look good.” Magret says, surprised, as if she had reason to believe that Raisa was falling apart without her watchful gaze.

Raisa sighs. “I suppose mom has told you the news.” It was a statement, not a question. Her mother and Magret’s favorite topic of gossip has always been Raisa, and the multitude of ways that she was surely ruining her life. 

“You mean that you’re consorting with a hoodlum?” Magret puts her hands on her hips, glaring down at Raisa in that way that still fills her with fear. 

“If by ‘consorting with a hoodlum’ you mean married, yes. Yes, I am.” 

“Who even is this boy?” 

Raisa sighs, running her hands down the side of her hoodie. “His name is Han Alister.” 

Magret raises an eyebrow. “Alister? As in Cuffs Alister?” 

“Used to be.” A groggy voice says, and both Raisa and Magret turn to find Han, now awake, sitting up in bed. He was rubbing at his eyes, and kept the blankets pulled over his shoulders to hide the fact that he’d fallen asleep without a shirt on. “I didn’t know we would be expecting guests so early.” 

Raisa gives him an apologetic smile. “Magret, this is Han Alister, my husband. Han, this is Magret Gray, she was my nanny growing up.”  She adds the second part timidly. Raisa always felt uncomfortable when she compared her childhood— with nannies, staff, and large (extended) family gatherings— to Han’s— he mentioned living paycheck to paycheck with his mother and sister, until he’d gone to live with his foster mother at 16. 

Han doesn’t seem to notice this, though. Instead, he focused on Magret. “Gray? Any relation to Velvet Gray?” 

“His name is Theo.” Magret hisses. “Not that you should care.” 

Raisa looks between the two, both of her eyebrows raised. “Am I missing something?” She directs this part to Han. “You know Theo Gray?” 

Han’s shoulders shrug underneath the blanket. “We were friends in high school.” 

“Friends.” Magret grunts, clearly thinking that that word was not an appropriate description. 

Han clears his throat. “I heard he’s doing good, going to Southbridge Community.” Han tells her. “I’m happy for him.” 

“Oh, goody.” Magret deadpans. 

Raisa steps in front of Magret, both of her hands facing palm out. “Magret, as much as I can’t wait to catch up, and for you to continue to interrogate my husband,” Magret rolls her eyes at the word, ‘husband’, “We really should get dressed before any more uninvited guests show up.” 

“Fine.” Magret huffs, sending one last evil look at Han, before walking into the hallway and shutting the door behind her. 

Raisa presses her back against the closed door, raising an eyebrow at Han. “I guess I had more to worry about than I first thought. What’s the story there?” 

Han groans, allowing the blankets to pool around his waist, and Raisa does her best not to let her gaze drop. “I told you, we were friends in high school.” 

Raisa narrows her eyes, knowing that there was more to the story. “Uh huh…” She hoped that this wasn’t one of those things that Han clammed up about around her. There were certain subject that were taboo between them, like his mother, or his time in juvie. 

Thankfully, Han heaves a deep breath, and continues to talk. “Velvet— that was his nickname— was a year below me. During my sophomore year he started dating my friend, Cat.” 

“The one that’s dating your foster brother, Dancer?” Raisa asks. 

“Yeah, obviously things didn’t work out for them.” Han sighs. “They lasted for a while though, until senior year, at least. But…” Han hesitates, glancing over at her. “I noticed he was starting to hang around some of the wrong people, getting involved in some stuff that Cat had spent a long time fighting off herself.” 

Raisa nods. She knew that Theo had gotten into drugs a few years back. Magret had finally convinced him to go to rehab, and now he was entering his second semester of college in the Spring. 

“Eventually, she broke it off with him. I tried to help him, but Velvet got mad at me, thinking that I was just trying to steal her back—“ 

Raisa holds up a hand. “Wait a second, you used to date Cat?” 

Han blinks at her. “Have I not mentioned that before?” 

“No, I definitely think I would have remembered you mentioning that you’ve dated one of your closest friends.” 

Han’s eyes dart away from her for a second, before returning. “Right. Anyways, I graduated not long after, and Velvet cut the rest of us off.” 

Raisa hums. “It’s a small world.” 

“Not that small, I hope. I don’t know how much of my past I’m ready to confront right now.” 

Raisa shrugs, stretching her arms over her head. “I dunno. I kind of like these little glimpses into the life of Hanson Alister.” 

“I’m sure you’ll feel much differently when I convince your sister to tell me all the embarrassing stories about you that she has.” 

Raisa glares at him. “Fine. But remember, I’ll be meeting your family tomorrow. And payback is a bitch.” 

Han narrows his eyes at her, trying to decide how serious she is. 

“Anyway, we should get ready for the day. I’m going to take a shower.” Raisa stands up from the bed, causing Han to groan, as he flops back onto the pillows. She walks towards the ensuite, before glancing back at him. “Care to join me?” 

Han didn’t protest again, as he jumps up from the bed. 

First | Prev | Next

[therealms-number1angirl]

Raisa: Just be yourself.

Cat: Be myself? Raisa, I have one day to win over Dancer’s mom! How long did it take before you guys started to like me?

Han: Couple weeks.

Amon: 6 months.

Magret: Jury’s still out.

Cat: See, Raisa! Be myself, what kind of garbage advice is that?

[therealms-number1angirl]

SNEAK PEAK 👀

F*ck. Guess who just came up with a Rain Tattoo Soulmate AU 😔✌️