#i actually drew them in their official suits everyone be proud of me

[coffeeisfortheresponsible]

rgb siblings? theyre my favorite ♥️

i’m incapable of drawing more than 2 people so here’s rgb siblings without the b

i already drew nya and lloyd btw!

also thank you everyone for the drawing requests i’m trying to get through all of them now that i’m out of classes !!!

[staranon95]

DinCobb Week Day 5: Sharing Cultures (SFW)

for @dincobbweek​ with a wedding!!

@astrangebird​ drew some fantastic art and i decided to write a piece about it. that’s that. that’s all of it.

AO3 Link

Wait For Me Here

“We should get married,” Din idly said one day when they were in bed, side by side to wait out the worst of the day’s heat.”

“Oh yeah?” Cobb asks. He’s on his stomach, pillowed on his arms. Din knows this without even having to look because he knows Cobb likes sleeping on his front, usually one leg tucked up a bit, sometimes one arm stretched out for Din as if he’s reaching for him in sleep.

“Think about it. We live together.”

“Mm.”

“We cook together.”

“Mmhm.”

“We fight together.”

“Mm.”

“And we have a child together.”

Cobb snorts. “Sharing custody of your child with a Jedi might be putting it a bit generous.”

“There are also the school kids.”

“’cause half the time I have to tell them not to get into shit they shouldn’t.”

“Still.”

“Still,” Cobb says and breathes in. Then he opens his eyes and Din turns on his side to face him. “Marriage, huh?”

“Mmhm. Unless if . . .”

“Unless?”

“I don’t know what marriage customs are like on Tatooine, and the ones I’ve been invited to were Tusken in nature.”

“Well, shoot, partner, I reckon we go just as hard with our wedding flair as them Tuskens do.”

“Is that so?”

Cobb nods tiredly against his arms and closes his eyes. “Two-day affair most of the time. Eat and drink late into the night, sleep a few hours, and then get up in the morning for the breakfast feast. Everyone comes out with everything. Real big community thing as well.”

“I, I might like to see that.”

“What about you Mandalorians though?” Cobb then shifts suddenly, rising up long enough to lie himself across Din’s chest and hold him close with a leg in between Din’s. “I know you’ve . . . I know it’s not easy for you.”

Din sighs. The fallout from the survivors of his clan is still fresh. At least they didn’t strip him of his armour, but he doesn’t think they see him as Mandalorian anymore. He saw to their relocation on Tatooine with Boba Fett’s help, and finally they can live without the fear of being seen or being caught. But they will not accept Din as one of their own, not anymore, not after he gave up the Darksaber, allowed his face to be seen, and nearly broke every Creed he had taken on as a young adult.

“Well, the weddings were mostly, they were short,” Din admits. “Usually it requires an exchange, especially if one member were coming from a different clan.”

“An exchange of what?”

“Equipment. Weapons or armour. I once saw someone approach the Armourer to ask her how to show them to make a knife for their betrothed. It’s meant to be personal to a degree. Either you got this weapon in battle or you’re offering up a piece of yourself, your beskar’gam.”

Cobb hums. “Sounds very official.”

“Marriage is a pact. You raise warriors. You grow the clan. You protect the clan.”

“Mm. I can work with that.”

Din smiles. “You’re a very agreeable partner.”

“I try.”

…

What starts out as a simple comment quickly turns into nearly a town wide event. Neither Din nor Cobb know how the secret got out. They were thinking, originally, a small affair with their closest associates. Boba is even willing to host at his palace, and Din is fine with that. But then word gets out, as it always does, that the Marshal and the Mandalorian are planning to get married, and now here they are, eating breakfast at Werlo’s cantina, getting approached by one of the mothers in town who’s there after dropping her kids off at the school, no doubt, casually talking like Din and Cobb know what’s going on.

“Marshal! Have you decided on a date yet?”

Cobb blinks and looks to Din before looking at the woman. “Excuse me?”

“For the wedding! Gaia said you and the Mandalorian were planning to marry.”

Din chokes on his caf.

“Um, well.” Cobb reaches out to pat Din’s hand. “We were planning a small ceremony.”

“Nonsense! I know you’re both busy men. We can handle all the logistics for you. All you and your fiancé need to do is show up to the day!”

“Well, Lee, thank you for the offer,” Cobb says, and Din can see he’s trying to be polite about it, but Din knows Cobb has a hard time turning down any of the favours the townspeople show him.

“It’s my pleasure, Marshal. It’s been some time since we’ve had cause to celebrate! We’ll be in touch!”

“Yeah, Lee. See you.”

Once she’s gone, Cobb looks to Din, and Din tries to smother his smile behind his hand.

“Hey, this is your town too,” Cobb says.

“I know. I guess a small ceremony is no longer in the works.”

“They were going to find out one way or another.”

…

From how Cobb explained it, Din thought he had a good idea of what entailed a Tatooine wedding from the settler-slave population. Good food, good drinks, good company.

“Have you thought about a house yet?”

Din looks to Jo as he’s elbow deep in a speeder. “What?”

“You know,” she says like Din should know. “A house.”

“Why would I—”

“Oh. You don’t know. Right.” She pops her lips. “It’s a Tatooine thing. ‘specially for freed slaves and poor settlers. It’s a thing of pride to be able to provide a place like a home. I know my dad worked hard to get an apartment for me and my ma while he also worked to get our manumission. Tiny one bedroom place ‘til I moved out here. But he was very proud of that place when he had it. Point is—what are you bringing to the table, Din?”

Din blinks and reaches for a towel to wipe sweat from his brow. “I hadn’t thought of anything.”

“Let me give you the one up ‘cause I know the Marshal won’t be asking’ for it himself.” She slides down from her perch on a workbench to lean over the speeder. “Man needs himself a proper house. And I’m talking a proper house. Most of the buildings here are temporary. They’re not built for long term which is why they require so much maintenance. Houses underground are the way to be. They take a while, sure, but when you’ve got a village.”

He frowns. “I thought that was for raising children.”

“Villages are for everything here, Din. If you want to give him something good, really show you love him, come find me when you’ve got free time. I’m pretty sure I can help you out with that issue.”

She then leaves and Din tries to return to his work at hand, but he’s stuck on the thought of a house. Of building a house for him and Cobb and for Grogu when he and his Jedi visit. Where they can host friends and not feel too crammed in Cobb’s home as it is. Where they can actually bring their lives and interests together in one shared space. A shared unit.

Cobb enters the garage looking like he’s dressed up to head into town, and Din stands to greet him. “Hey, darlin’!” He kisses Din on the cheek. Din wrinkles his nose.

“I’m dirty.”

“We’ve been worse to each other. Now. I’m headin’ into town for a bit. Told Jo to hold down the fort and you’re here for back up.”

Din nods. “You don’t want me coming with you?”

“Baby, I know you don’t like to travel to Mos Eisley. Take it easy. I’ll be back shortly after dinner.”

“Okay.”

He helps Cobb push out his speeder onto the main street of Mos Pelgo and kisses him once more before Cobb pulls his scarf up over his mouth and nose and pulls his goggles down over his eyes and offers Din a two fingered salute and then he’s off.

Din trudges down the street towards where Jo is leaning against the wall of the cantina. “So. A house.”

She nods. “Come on. Let’s talk logistics.”

…

In what they originally wanted to be a quick and short wedding turns into a several month-long affair as Mos Pelgo comes out in spades to support their Marshal and Mandalorian in tying the knot. They plan for food and for drinks. They send out invites to the local Tuskens, who also seem enthused that Din is getting married. They think it a good match, and well, at least Din has their approval.

The building of the Marshal’s new house is quietly under wraps. All Cobb knows is that a new house is being built, but he thinks it for one of the families in town, even comes by to watch Din at work in the staked-out pit, helping to dig down and remove sand until they come to the more compacted ground that they can put stabilizers against and hold in place before they’re pouring the plaster and concrete for the walls.

Whenever Din has a spare moment, he plans with Jo for the interior. A nice open kitchen. A large room for the both of them with an en-suite bathroom. There is not only one guest room but two. One that will largely be Grogu’s when he’s here to stay, and also one for the Jedi if he plans on staying the night. Sometimes he does.

Then there’s the living room, circular in design that could hold a dozen people comfortably, and knowing Cobb, he’ll like the opportunity to entertain more. Din thinks it’s perfect, and he finds as he puts the work into making a home, he realizes he’s looking forward to it not just for Cobb’s promised happiness, but also his own. He can’t remember the last time he’s actually had a proper home like this. Not since Aq Vetina anyway.

“You’re in a good mood,” Cobb says that night when they’re finishing the dishes after dinner.

Din shrugs. “Just happy I guess.”

“Good.” Cobb kisses him quickly on the cheek. “You deserve to be.”

…

One of the next steps for the wedding is the clothes themselves. For Cobb it means he’s getting a robe made for himself. White, flowing fabric with a fancy gold trim around the hems. It’s a standard piece of Tatooine marriages, and Din feels himself sort of bereft that he doesn’t have something similar.

So he plans a visit to Boba’s because they have a shared lineage, and Din can’t exactly walk up to where his old tribe is and ask, “Can any of you help me dress for my wedding? Even though you see me as dar’manda and probably wouldn’t accept my marriage to an outsider?”

Best not to think of it.

He rides with Cobb to the palace, but Cobb isn’t planning on staying.

“I got business in town,” he says. “Might be a while. You okay staying here tonight?”

“Of course.”

“’kay. Kiss.”

He tilts up for Din to lean down and kiss him before waving him off. Then Din heads towards the palace and is let in by the guards.

It’s one of Boba’s work days, meaning he’s not seeing court, which means he’s pouring drinks for him, Fennec, and Din to enjoy. He always serves the strong stuff, which makes Din’s throat burn, but he’s getting used to it.

“So how is it anyway?” Boba asks, reclined on one of the sofa’s where Fennec can press her feet against his thigh.

“Going well,” Din says, keeping his eyes on the dark liquor in his glass. “The house is coming along.”

“You still haven’t told him yet?” Fennec asks.

Din shakes his head. “I want to keep it a surprise for him.”

“Sounds like you got it bad.”

“And you don’t?”

Fennec chuckles and Boba smiles amusedly.

“Fennec’s not exactly my queen here,” Boba says.

“That’s right. I’m an empress.”

“Still. A house sounds like a good idea. Putting down roots. Settling in.”

“It’s about time,” Din says, taking a sip. He smacks his lips. “But it’s getting close to the day and . . . the seamstress offered to tailor me something, but I was hoping for something more—”

“Familiar?” Boba offers. Din nods.

“I think you can help with that,” Fennec says. “Despite what he might say, Boba’s become a real fashion snob.”

“It’s not fashion when you have to wear it to impress people who won’t take you seriously otherwise. The battle armour doesn’t always work.”

“Sure,” she says. “We’ll go with that.”

“I’ll see what I got.”

They eventually move to Boba and Fennec’s shared private quarters where Din can examine the clothing in front of a mirror.

“If you’re looking for something more Mandalorian,” Boba says from within his closet. “I’d suggest the lavalava. Especially if you’re aiming for tradition.”

“Bring out the blue one if you have it,” Fennec says.

Boba returns holding what Din first sees as a skirt, but recognizes the design of it when he was first living in the Fighting Corps’ barracks as a child. It’s meant to be a more formal piece of Mandalorian wear for more casual settings if one didn’t want to dress up in full battle armour. It’s meant to just sit on the hips.

Boba gets him to try it on right there. “You’d probably just wear a light pair of leggings underneath,” he says.

“Oh, and then,” Fennec says, rising to her feet and entering the closet. She returns with a lighter blue cloak and a red sash. “Tie it off with this sash here.” She wraps it around his waist. “And then the cloak like this.” She lets it sit on one shoulder and brings the two ends together to pin at his other shoulder. “You know, I might have a broach that could fit this. Din, hold this for me. I’ll be right back.”

He does as he’s told and looks at himself in the mirror.

“Not bad,” Boba says. “Colour suits you.”

Din turns a bit to admire himself in the mirror. He looks at Boba in the reflection and asks, with his stomach fluttering, “Have you spoken to the clan?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Last week I think.”

Din hums.

“They’ve settled in just fine. Getting along with the Tuskens just fine, but seems like they got more in common than they do the settlers.”

Din nods. “I had a feeling they would.”

“Have you . . .”

“Not since they relocated.”

Boba hums.

“Here we go,” Fennec says, coming back into the room with a silver brooch—in the shape of a Mythosaur skull.

“I didn’t know you had that, cyar,” Boba says.

“It was a gift from a long time ago. Guy who gave it to me certainly wasn’t Mandalorian, but I think it’s best to return it to someone it should actually belong to.” She fixes the brooch to the cloak and then turns Din to face the mirror directly. “There. Now you look ready to get married.”

Din runs his fingers through his hair. He might want to get it cut before the wedding, but he knows Cobb likes it when it’s longer and it holds its waves more. He should at least shave. The uneven scruff on his jaw isn’t all that appealing to himself.

“Stars, it’s going to be a mad house on the day of,” Boba says. “Seems like we’ll have to bring the good stuff, Fennec.”

“You’re telling me.”

…

In the days leading up to the wedding, Din sees to the final touches of the house, ensuring the furniture is in place with room for more when they make the final move. He plans on surprising Cobb that day.

They have a good celebration the night before at the cantina, drinks on the house, and then, in Tatooine fashion, the couple are separated the night before. Din is headed off by Boba and Fennec to Din’s new house, and Cobb is dragged away by his deputy Jo to his house.

“Rest up, vod,” Boba says. “You got a long day ahead of you.”

The next morning, Fennec helps him get ready for the day, making sure his hair is just right, and the cloak is sitting on his shoulders just so. Boba is there in his armour, and Din feels a sour note in his stomach that he’s not wearing any of his. He wouldn’t feel right after his expulsion from the clan.

“You still want the Mandalorian vows?” Boba asks.

Din nods. “If you can.”

“I’d be honored, vod.”

And then he’s led out with his friends on either side of him down the main street with everyone and then some—Tuskens, out of town friends, some of Boba’s closer associates—have come out in full force down the street as it’s been fully decorated for the day.

The ceremony itself is held at one end of the town where an arch of bone from bantha horns has been carved as a gift from the Tuskens. And that’s when Din sees him—Cobb, dressed in white with gold trim and with the hood up over his head, a red sash at his waist as if to match Din’s without even knowing. His back remains turned as Din walks up the aisle towards the arch and then he’s standing next to Cobb, shoulder to shoulder, with Cobb’s lifelong friend and impromptu wedding officiator Issa-Or standing before them. Din keeps his eyes forward for now, waiting for the right moment to face his soon-to-be husband head on.

“Now, I know ya’ll have come out and taken time off of your busy schedules,” Issa-Or says. “And we don’t have much time to dilly-dally like they did in the nicer districts in Mos Eisley and the rest. Time wasn’t a luxury for people like us, so we had to make do. Which is why we’re here to see that Cobb Vanth, Marshal here in Mos Pelgo, spends the rest of his days married to none other than a Mandalorian! Someone he chose to let into his life, his home, and share the rest of his time in this mortal coil with.”

Din feels himself blushing, feels a smile breaking out over his face.

“Cobb?”

He sees Cobb lift his head.

“Why don’t you take a look at your man?”

He feels Cobb reach for his hand and Din gently turns with a little prodding. And as he turns, he sees Cobb pushing back his hood, and Din feels as if he could cry at the sight of him.

He sees Cobb’s lower lip tremble before he smiles, as bright as Tatooine’s suns themselves. “Din.” Cobb lifts Din’s hand and holds it between both of his own. Then Cobb laughs despite himself. “First time I’ve been without words in a while.”

There are a few laughs among the crowd.

“Darling, my love. First day I laid eyes on you, I knew I couldn’t let you go. And I am a richer man for having you. Even if I don’t got much but my name and my reputation and the good will of the people before us, I hope to give you everything you could ever need.” Then he raises Din’s hand and kisses the back of it tenderly.

“At this point, we’d say a done deal and have a feast,” Issa-Or says. “But as it is, Din is a Mandalorian, and we want to respect that part of him, so he comes with his own vows.”

She steps aside to let Boba come up.

“If you’ll both repeat after me,” he says. “We are one together.”

“Mhi solus tome,” Din says, quietly, only enough for Cobb and Boba to really hear.

He watches Cobb smiles, the pink curl of his tongue before he’s repeating in Basic. “We are one together.

“We are one when parted.”

“Mhi solus dhar’tome.”

“We are one when parted.”

“We share all.”

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

“We share all.”

“We shall raise warriors.”

“Mhi ba’juri verde.”

“We shall raise warriors.”

“Oya, vod,” Boba mutters.

And Din finds himself feeling bashful, and that’s when Cobb pulls him closer by his hands.

“Now I consider that we’re well and truly hitched now,” he says, and Din rushes in to cup his face and kiss his riduur in front of an adoring and loving crowd.

…

The rest of the day is pretty much a blur of being at Cobb’s side, being dragged away from Cobb, of Cobb being dragged away from him. Dance until his feet ache and he’s dizzy. More food than he’s used to. More drinks than he can tolerate, and falling asleep in a tent when he’s imbued too much with a pink cheeked Cobb next to him.

A few hours of sleep later and they’re back at it again for a more restful filled breakfast and relaxed conversation before finally, the festivities are over and people begin to head back to their business.

“Do you want to go home?” Din asks.

Cobb stretches and yawns, looking exhausted but content with his station in life. “You have read my mind.”

They walk down the street together, their clothes in a state of disarray before Din is leading him elsewhere.

“Babe, where . . .” Then it dawns on him and Din can’t help but smile. “No,” he says.

Din nods. “Come on. Let me show you to our home.”

Cobb is speechless when they enter the new partially buried house. He’s taken by how large it is, how high the ceilings are now, and how cool and inviting it is. Then he rushes forward to kiss Din and hold him close. “Oh, you are full of surprises.”

“Jo told me it’s a custom.”

“Well, not always a custom, but we pride ourselves on being able to provide.”

“Then let me provide for you.”

They kiss again, deeper this time until Cobb pulls back to rest their foreheads together. “Mm. As much as I’d like to christen this place, I’m bushwhacked.” Then he’s pulling Din into the bedroom where they collapse onto the bed as husbands, as riduurs.

…

“Hey, Din. You awake?”

Din stretches out on the bed and opens weary eyes to find Cobb kneeling on the ground next to the bed.

“What time’s it?” he asks.

“Afternoon-ish. Just went out to get some things from the old place, and, um, I guess now is as good a time as any to give this to you.” He sets a bundle of cloth knotted off with string on the bed before Din, and Din rises up on one elbow to look at it.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Din says, tugging at the strings.

“Yeah, well.” Cobb rubs the back of his neck, a nervous tic of his. “I felt like I had to for this one.”

In the cloth is an ornate dagger with its own leather sheath. When Din pulls the blade, he’s mesmerized with how the blade shimmers. A single piece that looks like it’s been carved from onyx.

“Cobb, I—” Then he sees the mark in the hilt of it.

The mark of his tribe. The Mythosaur skull. On the other side is the mark of the mudhorn.

He looks up to Cobb. “Where did you get this?”

“Well, I, I went to your clan.”

Din breathes out and sits up in full with the dagger in his lap. Cobb comes to sit on the edge of the bed.

“When you told me about your customs, and seeing your armour just sitting in our wardrobe for months, I wanted, I wanted to confront your clan. I know things are rocky between you and them, but I went in there to just speak with them at first. Then next thing I know, I’m sitting on the ground drinking tea with your matriarch.”

Din closes his eyes for a moment.

“And I don’t tell her everything, I don’t ream her out or nothing. I know you hold her in high regard. But I told her I was intending on marrying you and I wanted to do it right by you. No one else. So, she said she’d show me how to make something. And each time I visited, she’d ask about you and I’d tell her that, oh, you were a guest speaker in the school today, or you had fixed the power generators. And she’d tell me my smithy skills were shit and tell me to begin again.”

Din laughs. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

“Then she asked me why I wanted to marry you. And I told her I wanted to spend the rest of my days making you happy, giving you everything you could ever need. And she said, he deserves it.”

He lifts his head to look at Cobb. “She said that?”

Cobb nods. “I think she misses you. She won’t say it, but she does. I think it’s just taking some time for her and some of the others to come around to this new world order of theirs. But next time I go, I want you to come with me.”

Din nods. “Yes. Yes, I’d love that. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He kisses Cobb several times and holds him close with the knife on the bed spread next to him.

They don’t plan the trip out to Din’s clan for some weeks yet. They have a house to settle into after all. But then one day, they’re setting out on Cobb’s speeder. This time Din is wearing his armour with the knife at his hip. And this time they are facing Din’s clan together as one.

[wordynerdygurl]

Sticky, Sweet

Author’s Note:  I’m so pleased to tell you that this is the first of my 1000 Followers Requests!  Again, how do 1000 people like me enough to read my words?  I don’t know!!  But I love you all!   Also, bless my beta - @sammy-jo1977​ ... she lets me drag her to hell and back, and goes willingly.  Lots of Love, lady! Pairing:  Loki x Female Reader, appearances from many of the Avengers Tower residents Summary:  This was requested by the amazing, adorable and always supportive @alexakeyloveloki​ ... As I hit my milestone, she was having a birthday, and this, I hope will be a gift she’ll enjoy.  You deserve it girl! The request was:  One with Loki and a Curvy Reader where she works in the Tower, maybe the canteen, and people are mean to her and Loki likes her for some odd reason and... smut ensues. I did make some changes, but I hope you’ll enjoy it either way, @alexakeyloveloki​ !! Warnings:  This one might give you a toothache!  There’s smut, but it’s sweet!

“Uh, yes.  Might I trouble you for a chocolate croissant and… a cappuccino, large, please.”

You knew the owner of that voice without raising your eyes.  Today he was wearing charcoal grey slacks with straight creases all the way down.  A shirt, starched, bright white, with rolled back sleeves revealing the articulate length of his forearms.  All of his dark locks were gathered over his open collar in a low man bun, which is something you had laughed at other men for doing.  Somehow, the tall, trim man in front of you was making it work in a way that made your mouth water.

Flashing him a megawatt smile, full of promise, “My pleasure!  Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“No.  Thank you, though.”, warm and caramel sweet, his response made you melt.

Clearing your throat, struggling to maintain some sense of composure, “A name… for the order?”

“Loki… that’s L, O, K, I…”, his own grin widening at the request.

You knew his name.  He’d been coming to your little dessert cart for months now and every time you asked, just like you did for all of your customers.  And each time he spelled out the letters for you, as if you were taking his order for the first time.  Handing back change only for him to drop it into the tip jar, you let your eyes linger over Loki just a moment more, enjoying the view.

Most of the visitors to Avengers Tower paid you little to no attention.  Outside of offering a cup of joe and a giant cookie, you had no bearing on the day to day business of the super hero syndicate, and that was just fine by you.  Everyone else?  They all had important things to do.  Meetings and appointments were near constant as apparently saving the world took a lot of planning.  And, thankfully, a lot of coffee, danish and muffins.

Of all your customers, the actual, swear to God heroes were the most colorful.  They were also the most loyal of your clients, stopping in at least daily, although, there were occasions where you would see Wanda two or three times in a day.  Especially if you had made those little mille-feuille stacks that reminded her of home.

Thor would buy out your stash of jelly donuts, to the chagrin of the office workers in line behind him, but then divvy them up as a way of apologizing.  Ms. Romanoff had a tendency to whisper her order, lest anyone realize her secret desire for a sinfully sweet White Chocolate Mocha with whipped cream.  Captain Rogers?  His routine was the most straight-forward.  Black coffee, ma’am, Blueberry muffin, thank you so much.

Loki, from the start, had been different.  Unlike Mr. Stark, Loki looked you in the eye when placing his order.  He never seemed distracted by the technology buzzing around or the high ranking officials clustered in these hallowed halls.  Loki also didn’t order 12 shots of espresso, steamed skim milk, no foam, and one donut hole.  No, that was Tony to a t.

But Loki?  This giant guy, with broad shoulders and narrow hips, always ordered your daily special.  Frilly pink cupcakes, jam filled eclairs, fruity hand pies, Loki had tasted them all.  And he still turned up, day after day, eager and kind.  That had to mean something, right?

Honestly, it was the pinnacle of your day when, looking up from the grinder, you’d see him towering majestically over the office drones all in a row.  Knowing that smooth voice would soon be speaking to you, even if it was just to get a snack on the run, was almost enough.  Almost.

Letting your gaze linger after Loki’s retreating figure, you got lost in a daydream, one where you were making Loki coffee in your kitchen.  His lengthy legs tucked under your tiny table, a tray of fresh cookies in front of him as he read, sometimes with his shirt on… sometimes without.  Feeling your cheeks warm up at the image, you shook your head, ready to refocus on the caffeine craving customers still in line.

As closing time drew near, you began the daily task of cleaning up your cart.  Sweeping, wiping, sterilizing, washing, drying.  There was a rhythm to it all and you often found yourself entrained in the work, as usually there were few distractions at this time of day.  

“Excuse me?”  

Spinning, surprised, you barely kept hold of the carafe in your hands as you spotted Ms. Pepper Potts standing at your kiosk, “Oh gosh!  I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there!”

Waving away your worry, Pepper took a moment to introduce herself properly before getting down to business, “I was wondering if you had ever considered catering before?  You were highly recommended by a colleague and I am looking for assistance with an event we're hosting in a few weeks.  What I really need is someone to help with an after hours sort of thing.”

Your heart leapt in your chest, thumping wildly, threatening to bust out of your chest.  Now, you’d be lying if you said that expanding your business wasn’t part of the dream.  Always hopeful that your little cafe cart could somehow be expanded into a little sweet shop or bistro bakery, you had been hard at work for the last two years, slinging lattes and refining recipes until the right moment arrived.

When you said as much to Ms. Potts, her gracious smile lit up, “Then this, my friend, is that moment.”

Details were exchanged, pricing negotiated, plans put in place.  In ten days you were going to be providing The Avengers and their guests with pastries, cookies, coffee and tea.  There was a select menu so that you wouldn't be running around like crazy, which would make prep time easy, but Pepper had told you to be creative.  In short, you were getting your shot and the excitement of that put you on cloud nine.

As you had arranged with Ms. Potts, while the guests attended one of Mr. Stark’s lavish galas downtown, you were given access to the Avengers Suite near the top floors of the tower.  Seeing the building, well past your normal 5:00 pm, was energizing.  Getting to sneak a peek at where the most important people working here spent their days was overwhelming, but you were giddy at the prospect.

In a sweet spot, just inside the expansive glass doors which led to the sky rise patio, you set up your display.  Feeling pretty proud of yourself, you only had to wait a few minutes before the elevator dinged on the first arrivals, including the host and hostess for the night.  "Here we go!", whispering to yourself, you took an anxiously excited breath.

It was hard not to get wrapped up in the glitz of it all.  Tony Stark, wearing a plum colored tuxedo, had his Rolex draped arm around Pepper.  She was stunning in her black column gown, purple jewels at her throat and ears, the perfect counterpoint to Tony’s ensemble.  You struggled not to stare.

More people filtered in, some went to the bar, where champagne popped regularly.  A few grabbed frosty glasses of fresh beer.  And for a time you thought you were invisible among all the glamour around you.  Honestly, you were surrounded by the type of people who graced magazine covers and had in depth chats with Oprah.  That wasn’t you by a long shot.

Then, of course was the difference in your shape and size compared to the elegant group assembled for the evening.  You certainly weren’t as stately as Ms. Potts, nor as thin as Ms. Romanoff because she was trimmer in hip and bust.  Carol, stately and graceful, was a sheet of well hewed muscle.  All of them shone tonight, regal and lovely, while you wore your best black pants and white button down, the uniform of catering professionals world wide.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, temping your coffee pot, your mind churned.  There was no shaking the idea that even though you had been invited here, hired to be here, you were woefully out of place.  And just as your confidence was at its lowest, you heard it… or rather, him.

"Um… yes.  May I have… well… I don't know what to have.  Normally you have something special prepared."

Even over the din of chatter and softly played music you heard his baritone register.  A little flustered, disarmingly charming, Loki’s buttercream smile triggered your own.  Laughing, lifting a small tray towards Loki, "I am keeping it simple tonight.  These here are individual peach melba pies, topped with homemade whipped cream."

"And, what’s that?"  Looking like a little kid, ready to tear into a birthday present, Loki's face lit up with anticipation of what you might be hiding under the cover of a chafing dish.

"Mocha mini-cheesecakes, or-" Here you lifted the silver lid of your best party dish, "-my grandmother's chocolate chip cookies!  What would you like, Loki?"

Hearing his name in your lilting voice, Loki couldn't avoid the hot blush that rolled over him, turning his cheeks pink.  As if your delicious snacks weren't enticing enough, the way your shirt buttons could barely contain the bounty of your bosom made Loki's hunger real in a different way.  It was true that Thor had plied him with a great deal of Asgardian mead at the gala, even as the others drank up the less potent Midgardian spirits, all getting well past tipsy.

And maybe that's why he felt so bold, flirting with you casually, teasing you about your treats.  Also, he was shamelessly ogling your rounded ass in those tight black pants as you bent to retrieve a napkin.  Deep down, Loki longed to know if you tasted as sweet as your sugary confections.  Would you be slick like syrup?  Sticky like cinnamon buns?  Dark and delicious like chocolate fudge?

Shaking those long locks, which you couldn't help noticing were down and free tonight, Loki was struggling to decide among your snacks.  If his thoughts were lustful, your own weren't too far behind, because it was hard not to appreciate the fine figure in front of you.  At some point Loki had shucked his tuxedo jacket and the slim black bow tie that accompanied it.  Again his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows making him casual and cool, red cheeked and rambunctious.  Never had Loki seemed so at ease.

There was virtually no one else around, most of the remaining people were clustered by Clint at the piano singing show tunes, oblivious to you and Loki.  Looking from left to right, leaning in conspiratorially, "Ya know… I could let you have one of each, then you wouldn't have to decide."

Those dark brows arching, bright eyes smiling shrewdly, "You'd do that… for me?"

“That and more.”  It tumbled out of your mouth unbidden, your eyes widening in surprise at your own admission.

Leaning against your table, a lascivious smile on his face, “Do tell.”

And in the low light of the Avengers’ loft, with the soft smell of sugar filling the air, you felt yourself drawn to Loki’s aura.  Biting into your bottom lip, looking at him through your thick lashes, “Um… well… I could make you a little snack bag.  Ya know for later tonight…”

“Later tonight… I really like the sound of that.”  And to his unending surprise, Loki really did.  Maybe he’d find out about your favorite flavors in the dark of night, under the covers in his bed.  And if not, if he was somehow mistaken about your interest in him, then Loki would welcome some little cake that would make him think of you while he sat in his solitary room, brooding over you.

He shouldn’t have worried.  Genuinely smiling, Loki was beyond grateful to see the same look of desire reflected in your own face.  As you busied yourself packing up the little box of selected snacks for the sweet toothed stud, a voice called out, "Lokes!!  Get over here!!  Thor says you can dance and I need proof!"

Wavering slightly, Loki ducked his head in the direction of Sam Wilson's shout, not entirely eager to end your chat.  He was worried that somehow the sugar spun bubble you two were in would burst, and that, well that just couldn't happen.  Conspiratorially, invading your space across the narrow table, "I will be back.  Please, don't go away?"

Feeling like a movie heroine, you felt yourself nod, giggling a little at the spectacle of Loki's clear need.  In the glimmering low-lights, under the clink of champagne flutes and husky hum of conversations, Loki wanted to spend his time with you.  It was surreal and surprising, but you wanted him too.  There was no shame in that, right?

Glued to the spot, feet unmoving, Loki wouldn't leave until you said, "Go on, then.  Show me what you've got.  I'll be right here."

With a cocky grin, Loki loped toward the waiting circle of people and the makeshift dance floor.  Tinny, tinkling piano music was replaced by electronica, pumping through Tony's beyond state of the art sound system.  It felt like you were inside the speaker, thumping and bumping, in time with the dance hall beat.

What a sight!  You guessed it shouldn't have been so surprising, but seeing Loki, normally so reserved in your daily interactions, grinding and bouncing to the rhythm… it made you feel things.  Pulse pounding, deep sighing, clenching your muscles things.  Sexy things.

You could have stood there, enchanted from afar, for hours.  And you would have too, if Thor hadn't stumbled to your stand, nearly toppling the table with his unsteady bulk, "Oof!  A thousand apologies, my dear sweet bakery maiden."

Diverting your attention, you quickly stepped back into vendor mode, "No trouble!  No trouble at all!  What can I get for you?"

"Well, I have been wondering, what did my brother get a taste of that made him smile so wide?  It must have been a truly delicious nibble."  Thor, mimicking a mouse nibbling at cheese, was clearly past the point of sobriety.  

Turning thoughtful for a second, you realized Loki hadn't eaten anything of yours tonight… at least not yet.  So it had been your easy back and forth that made the frosty boy happy.  Smiling secretively,  suddenly supremely pleased, "Um… I have some special items this evening.  Would you like to try a peach pie?"

Blowing a raspberry, rolling his eyes, "Did Loki like it?"

"He hasn't tried it yet!  You'd be first!"  Trying to redirect the sloshed slab of man in front of you, offering the pastry up on a dainty napkin, it’s funny how quickly he snatches it from your hand.  Looking tiny in Thor's enormous paw, he devours it whole, swiping at the leftover crumbs on his chest.

"Delicious!  Another!"  Even shouting, Thor's voice doesn't crack through the party goers busting their moves. Sighing, you hand over another, only to watch it be gulped down without thought or consideration.

Spitting crust at you, Thor bows over the display you painstakingly built to showcase your wares, his weight making the table creak, "You know, my brother normally likes little women."

"Excuse me?"

Waving his hands, pontificating, "Small, shapely… you know the type!  Waifs.  Skinny, like him.  Narrow hips and-" attempting to whisper, "-tiny breasts."

Clearly, Thor was hammered, you knew that.  But what he was saying was just hard to hear.  You didn’t want to be compared to other women Loki had known, and you certainly didn’t want to hear that they were prettier, or smaller, or skinnier than you.  But your roller coaster ride of emotions was derailed when Thor slapped his hand on your table, making you jump.

"Now, you… you're a woman.  Strong, sturdy.  Could really ground him, you know?  Give him children worthy of Valhalla."

In his stupor, Thor couldn't read the warning in your expression.  Willing him to stop, shut up, go away with just your monosyllabic responses wasn't working.  But, alas, the Space God continued on, "It's all your sweets, you know?  Candy and cupcakes and… all those little… What do you call them?  The circles, fried and filled with jam?"

Flat, without feeling, "Donuts."

"Donuts!  Yes!"  Pausing for a breath, which you hoped would last all night long, Thor caught your eye.  "I approve.  Of the match… that is.  Loki has been alone too long.  He needs a thick woman to warm his bed, a fair, faithful filly to take-"

Thor's voice cut out, a thin line of shimmering red glowing around his throat, stopping his words.  You could still see his mouth moving but the sound was, thankfully, muted.  It was then that Wanda slunk close to Norse God, wide orb-like eyes full of knowledge, "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner."

Mumbling, struggling to sound bright as you gave too much attention to arranging cookies on the tray, "It's ok."

Her delicate hand rested on your own, "No it isn't.  Thor's a buffoon when he's downed too many bottles of mead.  I hope he didn't say anything too… unpleasant."

Waving her off, working hard to regain your composure, "Naw… it's fine… Thank you, though."

Thor, shrugging off Wanda's limited charm, "What's the big idea?  I was telling this lady that my brother likes her!  Her ample bosom, her gracious bum… and he always talks about her tasty cakes!"

Steve, sidling up at the first sign of trouble, grabbed Thor's arm, "Come on buddy.  Time for bed."

"But!  I am not tired!  I want more pie!  And mead!"

Wanda, rolling her eyes, "May I have another?  For the road?"

Quickly wrapping up a few of your crusty delicacies, you handed them over, now eager for the night to end.  It seemed tarnished somehow, spoiled by Thor's observations, like an unrisen souffle.  Glancing at the clock, you were amazed at the time!  It was late even for a late night event and you began packing up regardless of the people still partying their evening away.

You were hoping for a quick departure.  Seamless, silent, without distracting anyone, including a certain raven haired hottie.  No one would notice if you snuck away now, you were sure, and you had already fulfilled your obligation to Pepper.  In fact, with Thor's little outburst, you were well over your allotted time.  And, you reasoned, Loki could find some small little twig, more to his taste, if you weren't there to distract him.

That thought made your throat burn and your eyes water as you quietly broke down your area.  Even now you could see him, a head above everyone else, spinning with a smile on his face.  Loki looked so at ease, you refused to be the wet blanket on his good time.  Besides, flirting was one thing, but Loki wasn’t yours and you were old enough not to be crushed by a crush.

With one last, longing look over the assembled Avengers, you bumped your bottom into the exit door, shuffling toward the service elevator.  As the doors closed, shutting out the jubilation inside, you slumped against the wall.  How could you think Loki would want you?  

Having spent a significant amount of the late evening busting a move, Loki had managed to keep one eye on you most of that time.  Noticing Thor bumble your way, he was nervous about what his brother might say, but Natasha had challenged him to a dance off.  How could he resist?

By the time Loki stopped to catch his breath and collect his cookies, you were gone.  Vanished.  The only trace of you?  A small, golden box, stuffed with your divine delicacies.  Loki needn't see the name scrolled on the label to know it was for him.

But like Cinderella, you had fled and Loki had no way to find you.  Sinking his heart, Loki clutched the box, padding away to his room and the solitude of silence.  At least he had your thoughtful gift of goodies to keep him company.  It was almost enough.  Almost.

For all the numerous things The Avengers were good at, it was a non-hero who observed Loki slide away, sad and silent.  Never one to let a party end on a low note, a new plan was formed to unite the Trickster and the Treat Maker.  But it would need time to rise, like decadent cinnamon rolls, and like those sticky sweet buns, would be totally worth the wait.

When Monday dawned, you loaded up your goods and trudged to work.  For the first time since starting your business venture your heart wasn't in it.  Not when you plated blueberry buckle with lavender scented whipped cream, not when you swirled almond milk into fresh brewed coffee, not when you bagged cheesy bagel bites.

And it was, apparently, to be a day of firsts.  Because this was the only day that Loki failed to make an appearance at your stand since you’d opened.  Thor, pushing people aside, had made a point of apologizing for his behavior.  It was kind and honest, yet, hollow since it didn't make Loki materialize in your line.  But you appreciated it, nonetheless.

Before long, the day was done, your cleaning ritual initiated, your mind wandering.  That it circled back to a certain blue eyed mischief maker over and over wasn't shocking.  Where had Loki been?  Had you driven him off?  Would he come back tomorrow?  

"Ahem… Excuse me!"

Squealing, you dropped the tray you'd been wiping with a clanking clatter, "Miss Potts!  You startled me!"

"I didn't mean to!", stooping to hand you back your platter, she lifted her smart eyes to yours.

"I know… I'm so sorry!  I've been… a little off today."

Shrewd, searching, Pepper looked you over, "You're not the only one."

Laughing nervously, “Oh?  Who else is having a tough Monday?”

“A friend… listen, I wanted to thank you for the other night. It was really wonderful having your exceptional snacks at the ready.”

Allowing yourself a small smile, nibbling your lip nervously, “The pleasure was all mine.”

Pepper, shifting on her high heels, “I’d like to hire you again.”

“Really?”  Snapping your head up at the offer, you were a little surprised by her request.  Even though that night hadn’t ended the way you had hoped, necking with Loki like a teenager after prom, it had still been a lucrative evening for your little start up company.  But so soon?

“Yes! This is a smaller event.  Actually, more of a date than anything.  This Friday evening.  Would you be free?”

Grabbing your phone, confirming the date on your calendar, “It works for me!  What time were you thinking?”

Blinking, Pepper took a minute to contemplate before answering, “Let’s say seven.  Upstairs, on the outdoor deck?”

“That sounds great, Ms. Potts!  How many people are you expecting?”, making notes, head down you missed her gentle smile.

“Just two.”

That made you giggle.  So, it was a night of romance with Tony she was after.  Flashing your benefactor a knowing smirk, “Sounds lovely.”

“I hope it will be!”

You didn’t see Loki all week.  There was rumor going around the tower that he was off on a mission somewhere, very hush, hush.  Your limited intell was gained only because of Thor’s inability to lower his booming voice while waiting for a croissant on Tuesday morning.

It got easier.  Not seeing him in your daily line, not giving him his cappuccino, not buttering his scone.  By Friday you finally felt like Loki was out of your system, which was a good thing, because you knew Ms. Potts was expecting you to knock it out of the park tonight.

“Things are going to be a little different for this evening, if that’s ok.  I thought you could set out your dessert courses here, on the counter, and we’d have someone bring them out to the patio area.”

Unafraid to go the extra mile, you were quick to volunteer, “I’d be more than happy to act as a server if-”

Talking over you, “Oh no, dear!  I have someone for that already.  Really, all you have to do is make sure your treats are in order.”

Slightly crestfallen, but always a good sport, you agreed.  As she’d requested, you had prepared three special desserts for the night, hoping you covered all of Tony’s favorite flavors.  First, lemon cake with a cracked sugar glaze and fresh raspberry sauce to garnish.  Next would be the white chocolate cheesecake studded with plump blueberries and piles of fresh vanilla flavored whipped cream.  Last, and perhaps most importantly, was your personal favorite, tiramisu.  Simple, delicious, and perfect with a strong cup of espresso.

Clapping her hands, Pepper was so pleased at the thought you had put into each plate, “Wow, does this look amazing!  There’s really only one other thing that we need for this.”  

Wiping a stray stripe of sauce from the plate, a piping bag cupped in your hands, you lifted your head, “What’s that Ms. Potts?”

“Why, you of course.”

Stalling in midair, you slowly lowered the tool of your trade, wiping your sugary fingers on the seat of your jeans.  “I’m right here!  What can I do to help?”

Coming around the island now, Pepper drew close enough to take your hands in her own, “You’ve already done it.  Tonight is my way of saying ‘Thank You’... and I hope you’ll accept a small gift as a token of my appreciation.”

As the last word hung in the air between you, the lift doors parted, and Loki stepped into the room.  

Pepper had summoned him, asking only that he arrive on time and not “look a mess”.  Since Loki had never been anything less than elegant in all things, he had no intention of breaking that streak this evening.  If only he knew what to dress for?

So, he split the difference, going for casual cool.  A jet black polo shirt, unbuttoned, clung to him like a second skin, caressing every muscle.  Black trousers and a black belt made him look dangerously seductive as he sauntered closer with each step.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him.  Missing Loki all week made seeing him like this stupefying.  Fuzzy brained and dull minded, you weren’t capable of wrapping your head around what was happening.

“Pepper?  What… what is all this?”  Loki’s husky baritone questioned the set up, your presence, the pretense.  At least you weren't the only one who was confused.

Pulling you along, Pepper maneuvered you next to him, “Loki, It’s all arranged.  Dessert by candlelight, under the stars… FRIDAY, start my Date Night playlist.”  The strains of “In the Still of the Night” by the Five Satins filled the air.

It was right then that Loki got it.  The strange summons, the dress code, the secrecy.  He knew why you were here, with your bespoke baked goods, looking like a snack yourself.  Pepper had listened when Loki recommended you for the first gig, and somehow she had heard the unspoken recommendation of his heart.  A rush of feeling flowed over him at the idea.  

Looking sheepish and flustered, Loki caught your eye, “Hello.”

“Hi…”, bashful yourself, you struggled not to look too giddy.

“See, you’re already on your way.  Have a good night kids!”  

You and Loki stood there, staring, until the click of Pepper’s heels on the marble had faded away.  This is  awkward, you thought, unsure of what to do next.  Here with the man you wanted, you weren’t entirely sure what to do, but luckily for you, Loki knew how to take charge, “Shall we?”

Lacing his fingers with yours, Loki led you to the open deck where a small bistro table was waiting, already set for the two of you.  Pulling out your chair, Loki made sure you were comfortable before taking his own seat at your side, as opposed to across the table.  It was a cozy and romantic scene.

The song shifted.  Now The Platters crooned, “Only You”, and your hand was itching to grab Loki’s under the table.  Before you could, Pepper’s hired server for the evening brought your first plate, and a bottle of Prosecco.  

So far, neither of you had really spoken.  Words seemed too difficult to use when the situation was so formal.  And yet, it really was lovely of Ms. Potts to do this for you… and for Loki.

“Did you make all of this?”

Picking up your fork, giving Loki a small nod, “Yea… I thought Pepper was planning a date night with Tony.  I had no idea that this… any of this… was happening.  Did you?”

“No.  But, I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised.  She did hire you because of me.”

Taken aback by his admission, “Really?  Care to elaborate?”

Tucking into the lemony piece of heaven in front of him, Loki closed his eyes in bliss, “Hmm… that is delicious.  You are really so good at this!  And that, my purveyor of pound cake, is what I told Ms. Potts.”      

“Well, thank you!  I mean, I knew you liked me!”  

Hotter than opening your oven, a blast of heat swept over you, reddening your cheeks in shock.  Flustered now, you could barely speak, cursing yourself for letting your real feelings slip out like that unfiltered.  Mortified, you grabbed your glass, slugging half of it down in a second.

Loki’s fork froze, almost to his lips, as his own eyes widened.  Sighing, he placed the utensil, covered in lemon and raspberry deliciousness down gently.  Feeling his scorching gaze, you sat stock still, Loki’s wry whisper reaching you, “I do.  And I should have told you that before… before Pepper had to go to such great lengths to prove it.”

“But Loki… I’m just… I’m not…”  Stammering, you couldn’t quite find the best way to explain the reservations you had been carrying, the reasons Thor had so clearly defined.

“You are though.  You are so kind hearted… to everyone.  Even the dullards and bores.  I hear you, you know?  What you say, how you say it.  No one leaves your little station without being complimented, enlightened, enriched.  It is the best part of my day, coming down to see you… and taste whatever marzipan masterpiece you’ve graced us with.”

Starting to feel the bubbles of Prosecco in your brain, your lopsided smile spread at the emotion Loki expressed, “Loki… it’s the only thing that gets me through sometimes.  Seeing you, knowing that you’re in line.  And how cute you are when you spell out your name, like I haven’t written it a hundred times before.”

It was his turn to blush, “I knew that.  I knew it was adorable.”

Playfully pushing against his shoulder, you chuckled, “Loki!  That’s not fair!”

“Then you won’t like this, darling.”  

Catching your arms in his firm hands, Loki tucked your body into his, finding your mouth as you laughed at his antics.  Using his top lip to trap your own, Loki’s bottom lip gently parted, as the softness of his kiss blended into the lemon scented sweetness of his sigh.  His tongue, probing slowly, pressed between your lips stealing a shaky breath for Loki to treasure.

Rising, Loki’s hands cradled your cheeks, ensuring that you couldn’t break away from his kiss.  As if you wanted to!  Your own hands wandered, with one resting on the warm slope of his wide thigh and the other pressed against Loki’s broad chest.

Deepening the kiss, you pushed forward, nestling between Loki’s spread legs.  Trailing a hand along his hip, scooting closer, you moaned at the luscious texture of his tongue on your own.  When Loki pulled back, you followed, unwilling to break the beautiful bond your mouths had sealed.

Swallowing hard, unable to believe that he was really here with the flavor of your candy kisses filling his senses, Loki shook his head.  Seeing your own dazed expression made his heart soar.  He was going to have to write Pepper a thank you note or have you bake her a cake, because this was the best thing that had ever happened to the Prince of Asgard.

“Are you ready for the next course?”  The server, having popped out of the compound, was struggling to hide his own smug smile at the sexy little show you two had put on.

A new song started, the notes drifting through the air, making you smile.  Sam Cooke’s eternally youthful voice sang, “Cupid… draw back your bow…” and Loki slowly stood.  “Uh, please, hold the next one, if you don’t mind.”

Coming around behind you, offering you his hand, “Loki?  What are you doing?”

“What I should have done last week… Ask you to dance…?”   Voice brimming with hope, Loki quirked an eyebrow, anticipating your acceptance.

“About time.”  

Rumbling through Loki’s solid torso, his laugh greeted you as you fell into his arms easily, chuckling yourself.  It was so familiar and yet so different.  His hands rested over the curve of your back, pulling you tighter, controlling the sway of your hips.  Circling the delicate strength of his neck, your fingers teasing into those long locks of tousled hair, you let Loki take the lead.  

Tipping you back, over balancing you but still in control, Loki’s look was pure lust, “I apologize for running late.  I should have-”

Cutting in, husking into the shell of Loki’s ear, “Don’t.  We’re here now.  And besides, you were worth the wait.”

Squeezing you, putting every ounce of feeling into his hug, Loki found it hard to loosen his grip.  Now that he had the thing he wanted, he never wanted to be separated from it… you… ever again.  

Twirling you out, tugging you back in, as the song came to its close, Loki took the opportunity of dipping you low enough for your head to graze the ground below.  Breathless and giddy, you were lifted back to standing, clinging to the demi God before you.  Parting your lips, anticipating another of Loki’s kisses, your eyes fluttering closed, “Sir?  Madame?”  

Shifting his focus from your glossy, eager mouth to the server once more, Loki’s own giggle shining in his face, “My good man, please… just pack it all up!  We’re not staying.”

“We’re not?”  A hint of surprise colored your tone as you took in the ecstatic look on Loki’s face.

Nodding at you, “Nope.”

Waiting only a moment or two for a bag stuffed full of your goodies, Loki slung it over this wrist before taking your hand and leading you through the Tower’s maze of floors.  Of course, he stopped at almost every corner to sneak a peck, pat your tush or cage you against the wall so that his hips were flush against your own as he licked the soft spot under your ear.

“Hmmm… Loki… That feels so good.”  Mewling softly, your nails scratching into his scalp, as he swung open the door to his room.

Ushering you inside, Loki paused only to set his blistering, needy eyes on you once more, “We are not children, you and I.  If you want to wait, I will be patient… but, believe me, my darling little patisserie, when I say this:  I want you.  I want to devour you… I want to know if you’re as sweet as strawberry shortcake or tart like key lime pie.

“I need to see if you-” here he swallowed so hard his Adam’s Apple bobbed, “-sigh when I kiss you the same way you do when you slide a hot cup of tea over the counter.  Or how you’ll sound when you call my name in ecstasy.  Because I’ve already thought about these things a hundred times over.  While I wait in line for a moment of your attention or when I taste those lovely delicacies, you fill my thoughts.

“Do you always smell of vanilla and butter, I wonder.  Will my sheets be scented with marshmallow and marzipan?  Almond and cherry?”

Advancing on you now, hunger heating his look, “But just know, little one, if you do come to my bed, I will make sure it’s the last one you’ll ever need.”

Stepping closer, baiting the bear in him, you bit into your bottom lip, “Are you saying that everyone will know I belong to you… L, O, K, I… Loki?”

“My sweet, sweet thing.  That is exactly what I mean.”

In a flurry of movement, Loki swept you against his kitchen table, the wood strong and sturdy behind you.  Kisses, hot and happy melted you like butter, as Loki spread your legs to stand between them.  When you heard the sound of paper crumpling, “What’s that?”

“Oh!  Our to-go bag!  Your luscious desserts!”  Sounding slightly panicked, Loki quickly removed the items from inside the bag, before turning to you with a look that said trouble.

“What?  What’s that face?”  

“I’ve told you how much I fancy your food… and now you know how much I adore you... “

“Uh huh…”, still unsure about where this was going, your eyes followed Loki as he pulled your tub of whipped cream from the ruined sack.  Snapping off the lid, his long finger scooping out a big glob, only for Loki to brush the airy confection over your mouth.  

Licking the cream from your lips, Loki tongued the seam of your pretty pout, moaning at the burst of vanilla he tasted there, “I don’t know what’s more delicious, your frothy garnish or this mouth.”

“What if I want some, huh?”  Grabbing at Loki’s finger, the one he’d used to snag the sample with, you pulled it into the warm inlet of your mouth, sucking lightly.

Growling low in his throat at the erotic scene before him, Loki issued a command, “Bedroom.  Now.”

Sliding off the table, right into Loki’s space, “Bring the whipped cream though, ok?”

Clothes were shed in a rush.  Each piece unveiling soft skin and new places to explore, reminding you of a creme brulee’s hardened caramel layer.  The way you crack it open, revealing the cool custard beneath the scorched sugar crust, a gift unwrapped for all your senses.

By the time Loki lowered you onto his bed, he had already sampled swatches of your skin, leaving behind the marks of his possession.  His hands never seemed to stop.  First they were dusting over your shoulders, then across your thighs, next on your generous bottom, squeezing hard.

Sighing in contentment, you closed your eyes, lost in the moment of making love to Loki.  As he lay down over you, the press of his rigid planes met the soft curves of your figure, you wrapped yourself around him.  Tangling those rich, dark locks in your hand, forcing your mouths together, panting with shared passion.

Connecting with his hip, you slid your palm over the rise of his bottom, squeezing just a little, “You know, you have a great ass, right?”

Sucking against the ridge of your clavicle, Loki kissed over your jaw, “I do?”

“Oh yea… I watch you walk away everyday thinking, damn.  That ass.”

Brushing stray strands from your face, “That’s funny, because I think the same thing every time you bend over to get those little swizzle sticks for stirring coffee!”

Setting off a fit of giggles, the pair of you with arms and legs akimbo, laughed like children.  There was something so freeing about being naked and comfortable with the man beside you.  Quieting only when you heard the pop of the frosting bowl's lid coming off, you sucked in a breath as Loki lowered his lips to your waiting nipple.  

Playful and pleasing, he released you just long enough to sit back on his heels, surveying the state of you.  "Now, It's my turn."

"Your turn to what, exactly?"

"Decorate!"  Producing an assortment of sprinkles and frosting, sanding sugars and coconut shreds, caramel sauce and raspberry coulis as if from thin air, Loki grinned at you wickedly before setting to work.

For every place that was home to a dollop of icing or a squirt of sauce you were licked, nibbled, nuzzled or bitten.  As Loki worked lower, you squirmed in anticipation, as your pastry chef in training sucked your inner thigh free of chocolate fudge.  Before you could prepare, Loki's tongue parted your slippery center, making you call out, "Oh!  Yes, Loki!"

Parting your swollen sex, circling your stiffened bud, Loki lapped at your sensitive skin gently.  His fingers, long and reaching, stroked into your sticky channel, stretching you sweetly.  Rocking against Loki's oral affections, the beginning of bliss burning in your belly, you gripped him tightly seeking release.  

For his part, Loki needed no encouragement.  Bringing you to the pinnacle, alternately sipping at your slick core, and sucking on your sweet pearl was making Loki ache with want.  Even when you pulled at his onyx locks, inner thighs trembling, struggling to stave off your peaking pleasure, Loki only worked harder, "Don't hold back.  We've already wasted too much time!"

"Uh huh… um… shit… Loki…"  mumbling was the most you could do as you felt a third finger enter you, widening you, readying you.  It was enough.  Cumming hard against him, stiffening and then softening like taffy, you gave yourself over to the pleasure Loki provided.  

Smacking his lips lewdly, licking his fingers, "I knew it… I knew you'd be delectable."

Grinning broadly, happy and satisfied, "Am I gonna get a taste?  You're not the only one with a sweet tooth, ya know!"

"Only when I've had my fill… and I'm not close to being finished, darling!"

Sticky, sweet and satiated, you and Loki lay in each other's arms smiling.  He'd asked about a gift for Pepper and you were already planning a cupcake basket for your matchmaking mentor.  You had just licked the last of your lemon curd from his abs, curling into his side, "I need a shower."

"Oh, yes!  Let's do that!"  Rising, dragging you with him, Loki could picture you under the steaming water, begging him to please you.  He liked that idea!

"And after…"

Pausing to look at you, "After?"

"Can you find me something salty to snack on… ya know, for a change?"

Pressing a kiss to your hand, Loki flashed you that megawatt smile, "Absolutely, darling.  Absolutely."

~~

My Minxes:  @alexakeyloveloki​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @just-random-obsessions​ @brokenthelovely​ @lots-of-loki​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​ @iamverity​ @iluvsumbucky​ @unadulteratedwizardlove​ @wolfsmom1​ @procrastinatinglikeabitch​ @mizfit2​ @shxdowofdarkness​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @ahintofkiwistrawberry​ @jessiejunebug​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @crystalizedcaramel​ @lokislittlecorner​ @scrumptious-finicky-illusion​ @capcapcapsicle​ @jamielea81​ @caffiend-queen​ @thenatilie @sammy-jo1977​ @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​ 

[loridrabbles]

Can you do fluffy Rex with secret wife and baby?

Secret Sanctuary | Captain Rex x Reader

Rex reveals to Cody that he has a secret family and brings him home to meet them.

Anakin, Rex, and his squad were huddled together in a large wet tent, well suited enough to house the soldiers and their equipment while still being at least somewhat comfortable. They were on a rescue mission that went extremely well. “A textbook mission” as Fives had called it. The group of them were there to rescue a missing nobleman who had been captured by the separatists and taken to the marshy planet they were camping out on. All of the separatist forces were wiped out, leaving the planet relatively safe. This mission was quiet. The nearest republic ship was waiting a day’s time away. A ship had come for the nobleman, leaving the 501st to wait overnight for their extraction.

     Rex was zoned out, sitting on a crate, his legs parted, his elbows on his knees, and his hands folded in front of him. He was lost in thought and the conversation of the troopers and Jedi around him became like white noise. The pitter-patter of rain on the tent helped with that as well. He didn’t mean to cancel them out. Normally he would be just as engaged in the conversation like everyone else, but tonight he was just too distracted.

     "What about you, Rex?“ He heard someone say. Hearing his own name drew his attention.

     "Rex?”

     "Huh?“ He snapped his head up to look at his men, who were all staring at him.

     "Thinking too hard about the question, Rex ol’ boy?” Anakin chuckled. 

��    "I-I didn’t hear the question. Sorry, I was thinking about something else.“

     "And what was that?” Fives asked, taking a bite of a ration bar.

     "Oh…uhh nothing.“

     "Oh. Well, we were just talking about what we would be doing if we weren’t soldiers. I think I’d be a bartender. What about you?”

     "I don’t think I’ve ever thought of it.“ He answered.

     "Of course you have. We all have.” Jesse said.

     "I haven’t found the time.“

     "Well, you had enough time to think about whatever you were just thinking about. C'mon, you have to have something in mind.”

     "I’d be a bartender.“ He answered, hoping someone would change the subject.

     "Hey! That’s what I said.” Fives said, a few crumbs falling out of his mouth as he spoke with food in his cheek.

     "You’ve gotta give a better answer than that!“ Hardcase said fiddling with a cable sticking out of a crate.

     "I said I haven’t thought of it! Ok?” He snapped. He didn’t mean to sound so irritable, but he felt like he was being interrogated.  

     "Alright. I think we spooked him enough.“ Anakin said. 

     "It was just a light conversation, sir.” Kix said. “We’re not thinking about deserting.”

     "No. I understand.“ Rex said, scratching the back of his head. "I was just…lost in thought and was…startled.”

     "What were you thinking about?“ Fives asked.

     "Fives-” Rex started but was cut off by Anakin.

     "He was thinking about having children.“ Anakin teased, thoroughly enjoying the shocked look on his face and the quiet laughter earned from everyone in the tent.

     "Anakin. I think it’s best that you don’t encourage their teasing.” Rex said, placing his face in his hand.

     "You’re right. I’m sorry.“ Anakin said. "I’ll do it when you’re not around though.” He winked earning a grumble from Rex.

          As Rex walked the streets of Coruscant, he thought about the happenings of the night before. He wondered if Anakin really knew he was thinking about children, or if he was just using it as a topic to tease him in front of the soldiers and get a rise out of them. Cody walked beside him. He was his oldest and closest friend, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, he could trust him with anything. Initially, the conversation was just as awkward as he anticipated, but as his pace quickened, he couldn’t wait to bring Cody to his home.

     "So…your wife is it? Did you get married?“ Cody asked, looking over to Rex who was staring at his feet as he walked.

     "Yes. Well, we had a ceremony, but since we aren’t real citizens, it’s not official in the eyes of the law.”

     "Oh…well, your wife. How long have you known her?“

     "A little over two years now.” He answered.

     "I’m shocked you’ve been able to keep things a secret for so long.“

     "It was eating at me. I had to tell someone. I knew I could trust you.”

     "Always.“ Cody said, putting an arm around him for a moment. "Does she know I’m coming?”

     "I messaged her that when I came home I was bringing a guest, but she doesn’t know that we’re on our way.“

     "When’s the last time you saw her?”

     "3 weeks.“

     "Do you miss her?”

     "Every day.“

     "Does anyone know of you two. Well, besides me?”

     "I thought about telling General Skywalker, but I’d like to keep it to as few people as possible. I figured the fewer people know, the safer she’ll be.“

     "Ah. That makes sense. When you want to get away for a while to visit, what do you say?”

     "I’m not proud, but in the past, I’ve lied and told the General I have a simple, secret recon mission given to me by another general or commander. Usually, I just say that I wanna get out to the city for a few days. He lets me, but I hate to think about what he thinks I’m doing.“ He chuckled along with Cody.

     "How much further?" 

     "Right here actually.” He said, gesturing to a tall building. “Isn’t much of a walk. I like that. Means I can rush back to the base if something were to happen.”

     Rex pulled a keycard from one of his pouches and swiped it to ender the building. In the elevator, he pressed the button to the correct floor with his knuckle and leaned against the handrail, then took a deep breath. The noise of the lift was almost soothing. The ring of the bell signaled the door opening. Cody followed him silently to the door.

      “Let’s sneak in. I bet you 50 credits she’s doing something adorable.” Rex said in a whisper. Cody smiled.

      “Ok.”

     Quietly, Rex opened the door to the apartment and tiptoed in, Cody right on his tail. Sure enough, (y/n) was there. She had their baby in her arms, back to the door, swaying back and forth, tenderly singing a lullaby.

     "Mirrorbright shines the moon, as fires die to their embers – Those you loved are with you still – The moon will help you remember.“ Her voice was sweet and gentle. Despite her efforts, Meleena was still as hyper as before, wiggling in her arms. She got increasingly excited and pointed at something behind her mamma. 

     "What is it, sweet pea?” She asked. She turned around to see Rex standing in the entryway, wide smile on his face. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest as she rushed to him.

     "Honey bunny!“ She said ecstatically, wrapping her free arm around him, stealing a kiss on his jaw. He grumbled a little, hearing his embarrassing nickname in front of Cody.

     "Hi, love.” He said, kissing her forehead. “I missed you.”

     "You brought company.“ She said, looking at his shadow.

     "Yes. (Y/n), this is Cody." 

     "I’ve heard a lot about you. Well, not ‘a lot.’ He doesn't like to talk about it.” She said, passing off Meleena who was making grabby hands at Rex. He pulled her to his chest, kissing her chubby little face. “Why don’t you come in and sit down. I was just making a pot of caf.”

     Rex gestured into the living room and took a seat along with Cody. As (y/n) brought the coffee, cream, and sugar from the kitchen, he bounced Meleena on his knee.

     "She’s gotten even bigger since the last time I was here.“ He said. 

     "Yes. She’s 20 pounds now.” She answered, pouring three cups on the table in front of the sofas. They talked for a while about life off the base and what it was like to have a family. Some moments, Cody couldn’t take his eyes off, Meleena, but neither could Rex. After about a half-hour, Rex stood and gave the baby back to (Y/n).

    “I’m gonna grab a quick shower and change. I’ve never stayed armored up this long after getting home.” He said.

     "Cody, you’re welcome to stay for dinner if you like. We always have leftovers.“ (Y/n) said. The baby on her lap grabbed her necklace and popped it in her mouth, chewing on the pendant.

     "Alright. Thank you. I don’t think I’d be able to make it back to the base without Rex.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his head.

     "I’ll be back shortly,“ Rex said, turning to walk down the hall.

     "Don’t take too long, honey bunny.” Cody teased. Rex shot him a glare and looked to (y/n) who was holding in an eruption of laughter. After Rex was gone, Cody and (y/n) struck up their own conversation.

     "So, he doesn’t tell you much about the war huh?“ Cody asked, taking a sip of coffee that had, unfortunately, cooled to room temperature. 

     "No.” She said, reaching to the table to grab a teething ring for Meleena. “I would like to know, but I don’t pressure him. I do understand though, why he doesn’t. I was a medic in a war on my home planet. I only went out in the field twice, but it was hard. I thought I was pretty close to the people I lost, but you guys must have a special bond.”

     "Yeah…“ Cody said, swirling the coffee around in the mug.

     "He doesn’t want to talk, so I don’t ask and I’m fine with that. He should have a home. A place where it’s safe and unchanging and he can just leave everything at the door. A sanctuary.”

     "I’m glad you understand. I wish more of us could have a shot at a life like this. He’s very lucky to have met you.“ Cody said. She blushed and gave the baby a kiss on her head. 

     "I’m glad to be here for him. I love him so much.”

     It was dark on Coruscant. The only thing heard for blocks was the footsteps of Rex and Cody as they made their way back to the base. It wasn’t rare for things to be so quiet in that district. Maybe that’s why Rex picked the location for his family, it’s quiet, peaceful, and safe.

     "I’m really happy for you, Rex,“ Cody said, looking over at Rex who was kicking a rock down the sidewalk. 

     "I don’t know what I’d do without her.” He smiled. 

     "She’s pretty great. You’re lucky.“ Cody stopped, and after a few steps, Rex realized he had fallen behind. When he turned to face him, Cody put a hand on his shoulder.

     "Not many of us get a chance at something like this. Make the most of it.” Cody said solemnly. “If this war comes to an end and they ship us all back to Kamino to be disposed of-” Cody rested his forehead against Rex’s “you run. You take her and you run. I don’t care if they call you a deserter. You can’t let this go…you can’t.”

     "I will,“ Rex whispered. "I will.”

[theyungrose]

Chrysanthemums and Daisies (Roman Reigns/Jey Uso X OC)

Chapter 4: Dates and Daylight

Jey was beyond relieved when he received Roman’s “orders” not to follow him to Raw on Monday. Anything that didn’t involve his cousin these days were the only things he found peace doing. Even better, Daisy had been texting him all throughout the weekend and he’d been returning the attention ten fold. To say he was now just as infatuated with her as she was him would not be overstating it; they were even falling asleep on FaceTime together. They were two grown people with crushes like they were in high school, and it was the cutest thing you ever did see. 

All this talking brought about the idea for their first date; they were both fans of Buffalo Wild Wings before COVID shut everything down, and since they both had plans to watch Raw tonight, it only made sense to make a catering-size order of wings and watch it cuddled up on her couch. It was perfect under the circumstances of the still raging pandemic, and Jey would never pass up the opportunity to have his girl in his arms. 

They weren’t official yet, but there wasn’t a man breathing that could pull Daisy from his grasp. 

The two watched in a terrified amazement as Roman laid waste to the Irishmen he just had trouble beating the Sunday before. If Jey hadn’t known any better, he’d believe that Roman didn’t need him by his side at all. But Jey knew better, thanks to Daisy. She’d spilled to him that after the scene with him and Roman in the hallway, Roman had met up with Chyrsanthemum; the only logical reason why Roman put himself in this match.

Whatever heel Chrysanthemum had kicked up Roman’s ass must have been bugging him the entire weekend, because there was blood in his cousin’s eyes. Malice, hate, rage; emotions that had made themselves at home in the heart of the Chief.

“Wow... that was intense.”

Daisy was the first to speak once the bell rang and the match was over. She glanced over at Jey, but his eyes stayed glued to the TV, face devoid of any emotion. Uce would never admit this to anyone (mostly out of fear of being castrated) but everytime he saw his cousin’s arm get raised in the ring, holding up that Universal Championship, it made his blood boil. His fists would clench if no one was looking, and his stomach became heavy with disdain. Call him bitter, but it made Jey sick watching his cousin tote that title around. He didn’t deserve it. For the immoral actions and decisions he’s made to claim that championship, he didn’t deserve it.

“Hey Jey...are you okay?”

Daisy, still in the highest of moods as always, giggled at her little rhyme as she poked Jey on the shoulder. Almost immediately she retracted her finger when she felt the tenseness in his muscles, realizing he was indeed anything but okay.

“Talk to me please?”

Finally Jey huffed out a sigh of pure annoyance and took Daisy’s hand in his, assuring her that he wasn’t mad with her.

“It ain’t fair D. And I ain’t one to hate on the next man because he’s doing better, but this I just can’t take. The man walked in on a championship match, signed a contract and was just able to take the title just like that.”

Daisy nodded, squeezing his warm hand and resting it between her folded legs.

“And then he sees me trying to come up, trying to make a name for my family, and he threatens to kick me out like he runs shit. And then he chokes out my brother in front of me just to prove it. He ain’t never loved no one for real. Just himself and all the money in his pocket.”

After his spiel Jey went silent again, eyes focused back on the TV right as the post-replays ended. Daisy watched his angry features silently, and wondered what it would take for Jey to challenge his cousin again. She wondered if it could be her.

On the opposite side of the states, the tired champion waltzed back into the gorilla with his chest high and puffed to the ceiling, only to find that Chrysanthemum had disappeared. Not just from her position behind the monitor, but she’d vanished from the arena completely. He couldn’t find her anywhere backstage, she wasn’t doing any interviews, and soon Roman had to come to terms with the fact that she’d up and left sometime during his match.

Anger and annoyance set in as the Tribal Chief realized he’d just got played. Alone in his locker room, he couldn’t help feeling just the slightest bit stupid; everyone in their right mind had told him not to take this match tonight and his stubborn ego had allowed his boss to make a mockery of him, make him look like he needed this match. All these thoughts in his head nearly pushed him to snap, and he considered going to Twitter to address her publicly, but after taking too long to think about it he decided not to.

After all, Roman knew that all this anger really stemmed from disappointment. He hadn’t taken this match to actually prove to her that Drew was nowhere near matched for him, he knew that already. Roman had taken this match simply because she’d asked him too. Those full pink lips and butter voice could’ve asked him anything and he would’ve nodded in agreement. He was completely sprung for his boss, and it scared him a little knowing she might just know that too.

That next morning however, he did find her. Sitting at the far end of the breakfast suite at their hotel, he might say dreamingly looking out the large windows as carved into a bowl of oatmeal and berries. He simply couldn’t resist.

“Good morning boss lady.”

Chrysanthemum grinned but didn’t avert her gaze from the window, she knew he’d find her, she’d counted on it actually. She was too proud to do it herself, and jetting on him after his match would’ve given him the perfect reason.

“Champ...good morning. You’re welcome to join me if you’re here alone.”

The small butterflies in his stomach did not go unnoticed to the Chief as she pushed out the opposite chair with her foot, her brown eyes finally meeting his as they glazed in the sunlight.

“Will you ever refer to me as Tribal Chief? It’s kinda my new moniker now if you haven’t noticed.”

Roman returned to her circled table with a breakfast way bigger than hers, Chrysanthemum noted this and giggled to herself. A big man had to eat, but damn. She could only imagine what he could do with all that energy in the morning.

“Yes, I’ve noticed. Let’s start by calling me my real name first though Roman.”

A rosy blush creeped into his caramel cheeks, he had to pull his gaze away from hers for a moment as he admitted,

“I’m not really sure how to say it.”

If at any moment in time Chrysanthemum had felt herself falling for Roman, even a teensy little bit, this was the first occurrence. She felt her entire body soften, following the actions of her heart, and she couldn’t help but look at him and smile.

See it wasn’t money that got to Chrysanthemum, she had that already. It wasn’t fame, cars, houses; she had all that too. It was humility that really had the magic touch of her heart, and seeing a man dare say as cocky as Roman become shy because he couldn’t pronounce a name, her name, gave her that little buzzing feeling.

She hadn’t felt that in a while.

“Have you seen a Chrysanthemum before?”

Roman shook his head no. Chrysanthemum nearly took out her phone and showed him, but she thought against it. A better idea sprung into her head, and if Roman was the man she believed he could be, she’d show it to him one day.

“Well they’re the most prettiest flowers, they have hundreds of petals and if you’re the right type of person, you’ll notice them as soon as you see them.

In his head, Roman hoped he was the right type of person.

Midway though their breakfast a fan stopped by Roman to take a picture, and before he left he congratulated him on defeating Drew McIntyre last night. Once the fan left Roman shot a playful glare towards his boss, not averting his gaze until she was forced to look up from her phone and acknowledged him.

“Well?”

Chrysanthemum feigned confusion.

“Well what?”

“Did you not like what you saw last night?”

Chrysanthemum leaned over onto her folded arms, a half smile on her lips let him now she wasn’t angry, but her face let him know she was serious.

“I loved what I saw from you last night, but I won’t congratulate you for it because it wasn’t a test, it was punishment.”

Roman’s eyebrow arched, slightly taken aback by her confession. All the playfulness had dropped from his features too.

“What you did to Drew last night, I knew you could do. You knew you could do. I didn’t need to see you rip Drew apart to know you were better than him, that’s why you’re on my show. However, you did Smackdown a great disservice with how you handled him at Survivor Series. I can live with my entire roster losing, it means they were bested by the competition. But, when you have to cheat in order to beat them, that means the competition is better than you.”

Chrysanthemum leaned in even closer, wary of the people who might be listening. Her intentions were not to embarrass him, but to teach her champ a i lesson.

“I don’t care what you do on Smackdown; your cousin, Heyman, you do what you need to stay on top ‘til Wrestlemania, because you will be Smackdown’s champion going into Wrestlemania. But if you ever embarrass yourself or me in front of that B-list show again, it will be the last thing you do as champion. You follow?”

Roman was shocked. Floored even. Only his mother had ever been able to put him in his place like this before, and even that lessened after a certain age. What scared him a little, is Chrysanthemum never flinched, never stuttered, and her eyes never left his. She was 1000% percent serious, and there wasn’t a single comeback Roman could think of that could possibly one-up hers.

Mostly because she was absolutely right.

Then suddenly, her body visibly softened again. The firmness erased itself from her gorgeous features, her chest fell, and her half smile grew into a full one. She probably didn’t feel it, but all 265 pounds of the Samoan jumped when her palm rested calmly on his forearm. It felt like electricity was spreading from her touch and he prayed she felt it too. With her eyes now kind and gentle, she spoke again.

“I promise I’m on your team okay? I believe in you just like I do everyone on my roster. Of all the shit talk and strife I get from everyone else, I hope you’re the one that understands.”

That small ounce of vulnerability did wonders for Roman. It felt like he was peering into her soul, and he could tell it was not something she allowed often if at all. It made the Samoan feel...special. Special to her, and that was at least a start.

The same electricity Roman felt seconds ago raced through Chrysanthemum now as his larger hand covered hers. His full lips curving up into a smile made her swoon secretly, and she hoped her blushing wasn’t too obvious.

“I see you crystal clear baby girl.

Roman’s blood ran cold in a split second as the last part slipped out; but Chrysanthemum didn’t mind. It was unprofessional yes, but the way it made her feel trumped professionalism right now.

“If you would like, you can call me Chrysa. That’s strictly a family and close friend nickname, so don’t use it in public. Especially at work. Stick to boss lady.”

Roman smirked, secretly hoping “don’t use it in public” meant they’d be meeting in private. If humility is what charmed her, then her vulnerability no doubt attracted him. Even though it came in bits and pieces.

“Much obliged... boss lady.”

Chrysanthemum grinned picking up her cup of coffee as she looked at him.

“See that was a test.”

@lavitabella87 @oncetwiceandoveragain @msbigredmachine @stellarollins @saccreigns @fatedxdestiny @thewrestlingobsessor @bigpsychicbagelauthor @jasmine03322 @yeahalyssa @lustyromantic @reigns-5sos

[the-mystical-aquatic-gay]

So my friend @flags-and-fanfiction​ and I have this massive ML Rewrite that we’ve been planning for ages. We haven’t actually started a fic for it or anything, but since quarantine started, I’ve actually been drawing up some costumes for it.

Anyways I thought I’d share some of them with y’all cause I’m actually pretty proud of them!

First up we’ve got a redesign of Miss Chloé Bourgeois’ Queen Bee costume

This design might change at some point, and obviously I didn’t draw in hair or a mask or anything, but this is the outfit we’re probably gonna go with! If you want details about it I’m gonna have some extra stuff under the cut.

Okay let’s dive in here, I’m gonna have notes about the actual costume and about the rest of her design that wasn’t drawn here. Actual drawing stuff first:

I’m gonna try to work from the bottom up so let’s start with the shoes. Yes I know I kept the heels from the canon design, yes I know heels are high impractical for combat but hear me out:

Her suit is magical, if the suits’ are powered by tiny gods that can make the suits look like whatever their wielder truly desires, then I think its plausible that those tiny gods could use magic to allow the wielder to fight safely in heels if they really wanted it.

Chloé is pretty feminine in canon and we plan on keeping that in this AU, so I thought the heels would be a nice thing to keep.

Pointy things are good for jabbing your opponent if they grab you, I think Chloé would take advantage of things like that that other people would see as a weakness and turn them into a hidden strength.

I think that’s enough on the boots so let’s move on to the skirt

The skirt is actually dual purpose, yes it’s obviously a cute little skirt for our Queen and it adds a little splash of blue to her design. But one of the things we’ve decided on for this AU is that any miraculous based on an animal that can fly (Ladybug, Bee, Butterfly, etc), yeah, the person using that miraculous can now fly when transformed. So when Chloé needs to fly somewhere, that skirt will shift up and become wings on her back.

Aside from that, the skirt is another little bit of femininity to her costume and honestly, as long as they’re not long enough for you to step on or something, skirts give a great range of motion and I think Chloé would recognize and use that. In case you weren’t sure from the drawing there is actually a black miniskirt under the skirt that can switch into wings.

Next up the arm things, I just kinda thought they looked cool honestly? They do also follow the idea I mention before though of pointy things being good in close combat though. An alternate idea I’d considered but couldn’t get to work properly (because for some reason I was doing this on Paint 3D) with gloves lined with fuzz like I did on the shoulders. I still might change it to that idea in the future.

Next is the vest and undershirt. I don’t think there’s really much to elaborate on here, it’s just a vest and shirt. All I can really say is that i wanted to have a collar and goes out away from the neck but I didn’t really have room to draw it with the puffballs there so I just drew the shape but attached to her neck instead.

I already mention the puffballs, so I guess the only thing that I really wanted to say here was that those are supposed to be yellow with a light dusting of orange over the top of fuzz/fluff/whatever you wanna call it.

Next we have the things that aren’t in that picture but will be a part of her design in the fic, how her powers differ from canon, and anything else I can think of:

Her hair is gonna be a crown braid with little blue flowers woven in

Why flowers? That actually has to do with her powers! See we think that all powerful gods only giving their wielders one single power that they can only use once is dumb, so we’re changing that.

We don’t have the entire power system figured out, magic systems are hard y’all, but we do have some ideas. For Chloé her powers now are:

Main Power: we haven’t settled on a name for it, but those blue flowers? They’ll be used to seek out people how are willing and able to cooperate with the heroes in their fight. The magic that brings them to Chloé will also protect them from just getting insta killed by the akuma or something.

Secondary Power (might have more than one of these later): her weapon is gonna be a giant honey dipper, if needed she can use it to trap people in a giant glob of honey - and yes, this is basically just venom

We don’t have an official idea for her mask, because we’re changing basically everything for this AU, but I at least am thinking that she’d look cool with some sort of wire frame mask? Yeah they’re obviously not great for hiding faces, but neither are the canon masks, so chalk it up to miraculous magic disguising their identities.

This is the style of mask I mean:

That kinda thing would be so cool on her right? I love these kinds of masks so i just kind fell in love with the idea when I thought of it!

Anyways, I think that’s all the major stuff we’ve got for our version of Queen Bee right now. There’s more stuff we have for Chloé herself, like just as a character outside of the mask, but that can be its own post if people are interested. At some point soon ish here I’m probably gonna do a post about Night Prince, who is our take on Felix with the Black Cat miraculous (this isn’t an “Adrien loses his miraculous partway through the fic” type of thing, he has it from the start, we’re giving Adrien the Turtle when the time comes)

I hope y’all enjoyed this look into our AU and I’ll try to give everyone more soon! 

Edit: here’s the link to Night Prince’s post

[elejahfanfic]

Hello Love/2

Fanfiction

Part 2

AU story with tvd characters

Miguel Galindo x Elena Gilbert💖

Ft. Klaroline, Kennett

It's a love story -no vampires. Human.

Featuring a song by David Bisbal_Me enamore de ti

Also, Yemaya is played by Zoe Saldana.

♡□

So much is going on in this ch, there is so many characters - I hope it still has a coherent flow - 😅

Thanks for reading. 😀😘

Tag_@miguelsbrat

♤♡◇♧

Niklaus, or better known as Klaus to his family and friends, just taken a cab to take him to the Mikaelson residence.

He still wasn't sure if he made the right decision to return home after so many years abroad, where he had built a very good reputation and established himself as a prominent young architect making his firm The Wolf Group, as they called themselves, one of the very best. He left it to be run by his partner, Marcel Gerard.

It was one morning after he spoke to Miguel that he made the abrupt decision to take a sabatical year and spend time with the family. Actually, to be precise, with his siblings, as his relationship with his parents was not a good one.

***

Meanwhile

In Rebekah's office, she was looking at the photographs that were to go in the next issue.

"Get me Damon" she said to her assistant Vicki.

"Anything else?" Vicki asked.

"No. I'll be working till late, so you can go. Thanks" Rebekah said.

The eldest of them was Finn, who tragically died in a car crash, at the age 20. Niklaus was their second child. He was three years old when they adopted Miguel.

Rebekah chose to work hard to prove to her father that she can get the fashion magazine up and running and make a huge success of it when she took over. So, at work she was known as the shrew, some of her co-workers would refer to her as a blood-sucker at times. The Mikaelson family was regarded as the most ambitious when business was concerned. Their parents taught their children to be excellent, to strive to excel. To be the best. And they made them proud.

After, Kol, Rebekah and finally Henrik followed.

Miguel fell in love and chose to go to live in San Diego to work after he married. And as his wife died, instead of returning to New York, he chose to go to Mexico City. As for Klaus, after finishing his studies decided to travel the world, finally settling in Europe starting to work as an architect in a small firm.

The Mikaelsons were a big family.

But lately, work was all she had on her mind.

Damon got to her office in a little while, and as he entered the first thing she said was-

"We are professionals and personal stuff should never affect the work-still- I am going to say this, because Elena is my friend and I love her dearly - you're an asshole! If you weren't so damned good at what you do I would kick you to the curb."

"That's not bad. I kind of thought you would dagger me!" Damon said.

"Let's get to work. Look at those", she now showed what she didn't like about those photos and asked for a new photo session with the next month's cover person.

***

Elsewhere

Bonnie and Caroline met Elena for some good old retail therapy. The best remedy when trying to kinda mend a broken heart. A change in style, hair was Caroline's suggestion. Also, they all had already received an electronic invitation to the Mikaelson cocktail night. And they need great dresses for the occasion.

Elena kept quiet about her unusual meeting in the cafe.

*

In the Upper East Side, Miguel met his son at his new school. Cris as he and all his family and friends called him didn't want to go to a private school, and so Miguel enrolled him in the public school recommended by Rebekah.

Cristobal, looked a lot like his mother, very savvy, goodhearted teenager, who knew exactly what he wanted in his life. He was very close his father. The death of Emily, cut them both and glued them even more together. Sometimes Cristobal took more care of his father, than the other way around. Mostly because Miguel was very dedicated to his work.

There were certain things he still needed to do regarding the transfer, and he now dealt with all that.

"There something different about you dad" he said to him when they got out of the school.

"In what way?" Miguel looked surprised at his son.

"I don't know.  But- different! You have a happy face."

"I have a happy face?"

"Yes. Usually it's - just serious." Cristobal said as he opened the car door.

Miguel looked at the watch and he had promised their housekeeper Senora Vega that they would be on time for the evening dinner. "Come on, we are late."

And there was a certain truth, he felt different. The woman Elena that he had met in the cafe was not getting out of his head. He had not felt a tingle in his heart for a woman for a very long time.

***

Greenich Village

Elena returned home later that evening and looked at the dress she chose for the cocktail party. Then at her new hairstyle, running her hands through them, inhaling deeply.

"Stop it!" she said to herself in the mirror, "stop thinking about him. Don't need anyone right now. Good-he looked so good in the three-piece suit- too good. "I am going crazy- what's wrong with me?!"

This man was not even her type. She prefered guys in jeans, with a badboy vibe about them. 'Mike' was completely the opposite. What was happening to her. Rebound thoughts. Totally crazy. Sliding the dress safely into the small closet, she went to the living room and put one of her mix playlists on.

Taking her laptop, she made hetself comfortable on the sofa. It was time to do some work. Lena's Cookie website needed updating. Browsing through the photos of her recent cookie creations made her stumble on a few she had done for her friend Yemaya's birthday. Though she was from Brasil, she was very much into mexican art and so she had requested mexican sugar cookies for her birthday fiesta.

Thinking of 'Mike', she looked up a recipe from her notes.

Me enamoré de ti, jamás lo imaginaba

Que algun día yo, de amor iba a vivir

***

A couple of blocks away

"Move in with me" he blurted out inbetween kisses and half way to bed disregarding supper.

"Enough of work." Bonnie said closing Kol's laptop nestling comfortably on his lap, pulling him into a kiss.

Kol finished writing the draft of his last research paper.  Bonnie sneaked up on at him with a trey of food and wine.

"Who is joking? Move in with me. I'm serious. I want you here - all the time. It's crazy paying for two apartments, sleeping ovet here- there."

"Ok," Bonnie said,"yeah, let's be practical"

"This is not about being practical," Kol drew his fingers up her cheeks, looking at her dreamily, "I really want you here with me all the time."

"When you look at me that way, I could never say no."

"You drive me crazy" Kol smiled, "At times I can't believe you are real - and you are with me"

"Shut up and kiss me" Bonnie pressed her forfinger on his lips.

She was a person so very open hearted, giving and so loving. He met her accidently, so he thought, as he waited for Rebekah to meet him for lunch at the bar. He didn't know that the Rebekah and the others set Bonnie and he up on a blind date. He complained to Rebekah that he had no luck in the love department and that he had enough of dates that led to nowhere.

He kissed her, and he took that as a 'yes'.

***

Stefan met his fellow journalist Yemaya for a last minute check before he gave in his article for print.

"Stop joking"

"Want to grab a drink?" he asked casually.

"Just one!" she stressed out, "Last night I had one too many"

"Wow- in the middle of the week ?!"he teased her as he knew her rule not to drink during the week.

"We took Elena out to kick her shoes off. She was really down."

"I heard," Stefan said, "I cannot make excuses for my brother, he is not bad-but he makes hell of mistakes."

"All the time!" Yemaya added.

"Yeah, but I am not really into the Damon- Elena talk. Actually, I need a date for a cocktail party?!"

"You got invited too?!" Yemaya was surprised.

"Maybe it was some mistake, but it came from Mikael's official e-mail!" Stefan said.

"Yes. I would like to be your date!" Yemaya accepted happily.

"Good!"- Stefan smiled, and  now waited for her to finish off what she was doing.

 ***

Days went by in a flash, and everyone had mostly work on their mind. Well, not everyone. Elena had something else on her mind, or rather someone else.

The Mikaelson cocktail party started to be the thing everyone started to talk about.

Esther and Rebekah were deeply immersed in the event. Everything had to be perfect.

Esther had invited all her family for a family brunch the day before.

Kol, Miguel and Cristobal arrived an hour before the meal. Cristobal immediately went with Henrik, who was two years older than him and that was a bit strange as he was in actual fact his uncle.

"What is not weird with this family" Cristobal said looking at Henrik wide-eyed.

"I kind of have to get to know Klaus and Miguel- they look too serious" Henrik said.

"Dad can be fun-he just doesn't like to show it much!" Cristobal explained. "Show me the last vynils you’ve bought."

"Come on" Henrik said gesturing to follow him to his room.

*

Rebekah walked in the living room all chirpy, "Gossiped much?!"

"No. Why would you think so?" Klaus said. "Then you have changed- you always had something smart to say about me"

"I did hear already comments about what a dragon you are at work, " Klaus teased, "it's only fashion, but I guess it has to be run with military precision. Father must be very proud!"

"There-you see" Rebekah looked at Miguel, who wanted to stay out of it.

"I hear you have new friends," Klaus said,"kicked the old snobby ones to the curb, I hear"

"I am sick of her snoby friends- yes-I have managed to make proper friends, and if you behave, maybe I will introduce them to you!" Rebekah shot back at her brother tapping him on the shoulder.

Esther walked into the Salon and there was gladness in her heart. All her children were there, and that was a rare occasion in the last years.

Her husband now joined them and they sat down for a very different brunch they all were used to. It was warm, chatty and quite lively.

Esther was counting her blessings, though her heart was not entirely at ease.

***

The next day, the pre-cocktail buzz was already in full flow with both the hosts as well as their invites.

Caroline talked to Elena over the phone about the cocktail party and Klaus.

"He looks really good," Caroline said, "you should check his site- he has done some amazing stuff."

"Caroline, you are telling me that I get into things head over heals like instantly. Rebekah is great, but he is a Mikaelson. Do you really want to get involved with one of them?"

"Elena, I know what you're thinking. Too close to home. Could mess up a great friendship if things go bad"

"Not thinking anything. Ok. I got to go. See you later"

"I will pick you up," Caroline said, "oh, I went back and changed the dress. I am wearing the blue dress - right- Jess is hear to do my hair. I will see you soon."

"Ok." Elena put the phone down.

Elena went to do her hair and make up herself. She was good in anything creative. She decided to wave it a bit and pin one side. She was going for a more natural look, and yet looking glam.

Simplicity has always been her motto. And yet, everything she did never looked simple. From her range of cookies to her relationships. 

The door bell went and Elena was surprised to see Yemaya at the door. She had already been ready and dressed.

"Hey- Sorry. I just had to come" the woman stormed in.

Elena could see that her friend was all flustered. Something major must have happened for her to be coming and not calling.

Elena now waited to hear her spill the beans.

"Ok -I am going to say it- huh- I slept with Stefan. We went for a drink and it was just one drink -and we talked and he drove me home and then we kissed and then we kissed some more and- you know the rest."

Elena didn't understand what was so bad about it. He and Yemaya were work collegues. And that is exactly now what was Yemaya's concern.

"I said I would never get involved with someone I work with."

"Shall I guess what you told him in the morning?! Exactly that?! Right?"

Yemaya nodded. 

***

In the Mikaelson Mansion, Esther Mikaelson was going through the list with her personal party organizer for the afternoon cocktail party the family was hosting for an exlusive charity event for the hospital Miguel and Kol worked for. Just one look from her said volumes when she was displeased with something. When her favourite sister died in the car crash, everyone thought that she would retreat and never come back, as she did go away for a year to grieve and be by herself. The grief changed something in her, she became a recluse, but adopting Miguel, brought her back to life. As he now walked out into the garden, greeting her with a small kiss on the cheek.

"How are you, querida madre?"

"Very well - even better now that you and Cristobal are here." Esther replied.

"This looks beautiful. Thank you for doing this."

"Darling, it is nothing. It's my pleasure. Where is Cristobal?"

"With Henrik" Miguel said and now greeted Kol and Bonnie.

Kol then went on to introduce Bonnie to Klaus and Miguel. Rebekah quickly snatched Bonnie away from the men.

"So, I'm hearing wedding bells from the distance!" Klaus teased Kol.

"Unlike you, I actually want one woman for myself!" Kol threw back at him.

"You haven't changed at all!" Klaus said. "I will leave you two to discuss whatever medical thing you will discuss"

"Bonnie" Miguel started, " she seems to be lovely!"

"What about you? Are you never going to find someone again?” Kol asked his brother.

"I don't know," Miguel said, "maybe"

"What does that mean? Have you met somebody?" Kol continued with the quizzing. "Dr Ruben has set her eyes on you. She's been asking me if you were dating anyone?"

"Please don't play the matchmaker." Miguel warned.

"Don't worry -"

Cris and Henrik came up to them and Kol now turned to them, quizzing them about the band they were forming.

The guest started arriving and Cris now observed how Esther and Mikael, together with Rebekah glided among the guests and how masterfully they played the hosts.

Damon and Stefan arrived together. Krystal made a solo appearance. 

Elena, Yemaya and Caroline entered like a grand trio.

Rebekah was there like a shot and greeted her friends.

"Who invited Krystal?" Caroline shot at Rebekah straight out seeing the woman mingling with some of the guests.

"Father's office - she is the best model and it's about business -if you thought that this was a family thing only, then you are mistaken -come on -let me introduce you to Miguel and Klaus."

Elena's heart dropped when she heard the name, but when she actually saw that it was the man she had met in the cafe, her heart started beating uncontrollably. She tried to keep her composure as Rebekah officially now introduced them.

"Hello" Miguel said, curling a smile at the brunette.

"Hello" Elena muttered and smiled back at him, “I thought your name is Mike?!”

"Uhm - it's Miguel - when we were kids Rebekah would call me Mikey - uhm - I don’t know why I introduced myself using my childhood nickname - just felt like - I suppose being back in New York”

"Oh, you've met?" Rebekah said slightly wide-eyed.

"Yes- a few days ago" Miguel said, his eyes still fixed on Elena.

Se pinta de colores toda mi alma

Con esa dulce luz de tu mirada

Y al verte sonreír, vuelvo a tener fe

Elena nodded, confirming it was so, looking at her friend and then at the suave looking cardiologist.

The waitress with champagne cocktails approached them and Miguel now took the glasses and offered one to her.

"Strawberry Bellini! I think you will like it." Miguel said to the brunette.

"Thank you!" Elena took the glass. She was at ease now. His charm just enveloped her and she didn't care anymore that she had seen Damon and Krystal at the party.

Not standing far from them, Caroline already chatted with Klaus as if they knew eachother forever. He offered her a Mimosa cocktail. 

"You are looking in the direction of that brunette like she had done something to you so disgracefully" Klaus commented since Caroline looked at Krystal off and on.

_ to be continued

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Chapter 1; A reunion two years in the making

*Author’s note*

Now that the introductions are out of the way, it is time to finally begin the first installment of Mother Raksha. Now just to clarify the first 6 chapters revolve around the events in Infinity war, then the rest of the story will take place during End Game. I hope you all enjoy the first chapter of this returning series and hope you all won’t hate me for the end result of what I have in store for you.

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

_________________________________________________

It all began at mine and Rauri’s wedding.  It was a beautiful ceremony, Rauri and I stood before our friends and family under a beautiful archway and said our vows to each other, to proclaim our undying love for one another and finally become Mates for life.

        Once we said our I do’s and were officially pronounced husband and wife by the King of Wakanda himself, our reception began.  It was a wonderful reception.  Dancing, singing and everyone was in harmony with each other.

        Until reality came knocking at the door.

        Stepping out of the shadows after my mother threw her spear to protect me and Rauri, Bucky, T’Challa and I were in shock to see who it was standing before us.

        “Do you know him my love?” asked Rauri as he held onto my waist.  It had been two years since I’ve seen him, and I couldn’t believe that right here and now he was standing right before us.

        “It’s Steve”.

        T’Challa and I ordered both Dora Milaje and Chimeras to stand down and we both walked right up to him.

        “I—would have brought a wedding gift had I known what the date was” he started. Before he could continue, I immediately embraced him tightly.  His chest softly rumbled as he chuckled before wrapping his arms around me tightly, even picking me up to slowly spin me around.

“Steve, my God look at you”. I separated from him to take a good look at him.  I placed my hand on his cheek feeling his beard. “It suits you” I said.

“Thank you, been trying to grow it out for the past 2 years, sorry about intruding on the wedding”.

“Ahh don’t worry, you only just crashed the reception, now had it been the actual ceremony, then we’d have a problem”. We both laughed, and Steve said.

“Ahhh (y/n) you hadn’t changed a bit”.

“Steve”. We both turned to see Bucky walking towards us now.  I stepped aside and let the two brothers hug each other and Steve said as they separated.

“How you been Buck?”

“Good, all thanks to this She-wolf right here”. Bucky said as he brought me in to him and kissed the top of my head.  T’Challa then came up and he and Steve shook hands as Steve said.

“Your highness”.

“Mr. Rogers”.

“May I ask what you are doing in Wakanda interrupting the reception of Rauri and (y/n) Williams?” Okoye piped in.

“That’s the thing,” he then turned towards me and said, “New York has been under attack, our kind of attack”.  At that moment I knew exactly what he meant.

We were now in the throne room and up on screen, it showed footage of New York under alien attack.  It showed buildings of fire, winds blowing at high speed until finally it showed a couple of aliens.  

One buffed out almost like he was an alien version of the Hulk, and the other lean and thin like a pencil, in a way he kinda reminded me of that squid on that kid’s show SpongeBob mixed with Voldemort.

“When did this exactly start?” asked my mother.

“Not even a half hour ago”. Said Steve.

“Do we know what they want?” asked T’Challa.

“They’re after the Infinity stones”.

“Infinite what?” asked Dean.

“Infinity stones, the greatest power known to any man. My future brother in law has the Mind Stone, it’s what gave him life over 3 years ago during the battle with Ultron” I explained to my Texas bear brother.

“What else do we know?” asked Rauri.

“Last we know, Vision and Wanda were last heard of in Edinburgh, Scotland. If these creatures are after the stones…..”

“They’ll be tracking down Vision first and kill my sister to get to it”.  Steve soon came into my line of vision kneeling before me and he said.

“I know you gave up being an Avenger for a greater cause, protecting Buck. And you just got married, had I known from the start, I may not even be here but—”

“Oh, there’s no question, I’m going with you”.

“(Y/n)—” Rauri started but I turned to him and said.

“That’s my sister out there. I haven’t seen her in years and I’m not gonna let some alien bastards kill her, don’t tell me if our roles were reversed that you wouldn’t do the same if it was Connor before he had gone mad that was out there in trouble”.  Rauri and I stared each other down.

Finally he submitted to my stronger gaze and he came up beside me and cupped my cheek and kissed me.  My eyes shut and as he separated from me he whispered in Gaelic.

“Promise you’ll come back to me?”

“I promise my love” I answered back.  I turned to Steve and nodded once to him.

“Five minutes; be ready to leave at that moment”.

I was in the bathroom washing away my makeup as well as running my hair through the shower head getting rid of the curls and picking out the flowers from my hair.  Once I came out dripping wet, Shuri was now in my room with a silver case. I walked up to her and she opened up the case to reveal my Mother wolf Raksha suit.

“Time to give this bad girl a full test run”. I got on the suit, latched up the boots, adjusted the shoulder pads and then finally placed the wolf-shaped helmet over my face.  Once the whole suit was on, I told the suit to go on since it was connected directly to my mind.

The suit then began to fill in the gaps of any remaining part that showed skin till it almost appeared like T’Challa’s Black Panther suit, and should I go into my wolf form, the suit will appear around me like the armor on the border tribe’s rhinos.

I turned to Shuri and she smirked at me and held out my weapon.  A special spear that with a simple twist, I can make become anything like a dagger, knife, sword, whatever, so long as I thought it and twirled it, it would change forms.

“Mother wolf Raksha is ready” she said with a proud smile.  I looked at her and I held my hand out and she took it and we both shook on it.

“Get the chimera’s their armors while I’m gone”.

“I’ve almost completed your husband’s, he’ll get a test drive later this afternoon”.  I smiled at her before leaving my room.

Standing right by the familiar quinjet, Steve, T’Challa and Bucky stood there. Once Steve saw me, his jaw almost dropped to the ground as he beheld my new Wolf suit. 

“Wow, new suit?” Like T’Challa’s mask, mine came down revealing my face.

“Yep, Shuri and I have been working on it for a while, now it’ll see it’s chance in a fight for the first time”.  I turned to Bucky and I walked right up to him and embraced him, and he did the same for me. “Look after Rauri and the others for me, won’t you?”

“You got it Wolfie”. We looked at each other and he leaned his forehead against mine and I drew my strength from him.  I then turned my attention to T’Challa and said to him.

“Don’t think this means you’re getting rid of me that easy your highness”.

“Believe me (y/n), I couldn’t get rid of you even if I tried”. I smirked at him before I crossed my arms before him in the Wakandan salute and he did the same for me.

“Give my love to mom, won’t you?”

“She knows you do, but I will tell her you send your wishes to her”. Steve then led me up the ramp of the quinjet and as the doors closed, I then knew my fate had been sealed.  Steve took the controls and soon we took off out of Wakanda.

Along the way, I asked Steve what all had been happening in the world since I had taken my new task of protecting the world and letting the government believe that I had ‘died’ in Siberia during the accords.  He told me that after he left Wakanda after bringing Bucky and I there, he snuck into the Raft prison and broke every one of Team Cap out of their cells.

In order to protect their families, Clint and Scott made deals with the government and agreed to go into under house arrest. While Sam, him and Natasha had been basically around the world but mostly they kept close around Europe and once Wanda had broken out and Vision had came into the picture, but instead of turning her and the others in, he went along with them and he and Wanda had been living together ever since in Scotland.  

“So will it just be you and me going in after Mama Bear and Vision or will we have backup?”

“Sam and Nat have agreed to come help with this rescue op. They were supposed to check in on us regularly but for the past few days we hadn’t heard anything from them. We’re hoping you could help track them down for us”.

“Hey I’m your nose”. I praised.

By late afternoon, we arrived on the other side of Edinburgh.  As Steve and I left, we both walked into a motel room and Steve said out loud.

“I’ve got her!” Soon coming out of the shadows were Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff.  The past two years had certainly changed the both of them, Natasha had changed her normal orange hair to a bleach blonde and her suit was now a little more bulked up than her normal catsuit.  As for Sam, he had started growing a beard much like Steve, he appeared more gruffer than the last time I saw him, his eyes a bit harsher now but once he saw me, his eyes softened.

“Well I’ll be damn so it’s true. And she shall rise up from the ashes like the phoenix”.

“More like Wolf ghost” I said. Sam held his arms wide open and I hugged him as he patted my back.  “Damn girl let me take a good look at you”. I then spun around for him playfully and that’s when he caught sight of my arm. “How’d you end up like tin soldier?”

“A good story for another time,” my eyes then turned to Nat and we both stared at each other.  The last time we met we didn’t exactly see eye to eye, that was until she turned Double agent and allowed me to escape with Bucky and Steve onto the quinjet for Siberia.  “Hello Nat”.

“Hey (y/n), come here”. I walked up to her and she embraced me motherly and when she took my left hand she then caught sight of my ring.  “Ohh well at least we know you’ve been busy, check out this rock”. It was then Sam came in and said.

“Damn girl! You got a husband in these two years?”

“Yes, in fact we were just having our reception when Steve came in”.

“Wow really Steve? You had to drop in on our girl’s wedding day? You are cold hearted” teased Natasha.  Before Steve could say anything, I interjected and said.

“Alright you guys, we can talk about this later. Right now, we’ve got a tracking situation to take care of”.

“She’s right” said Steve.  It was then Nat went over to a drawer and took out a plastic bag that held a denim jean jacket.

“This is one of Wanda’s jackets she bought, we tried to preserve her scent as best we could, hopefully it’s enough”. She then handed me the jacket and I brought it up to my nose.

I was then hit with my big sister’s lavender body wash that she always used, mixed with a bit of perfume that she’d splash on herself for dates with Vision.  A whole lot of memories were coming back to me as I inhaled my sister’s scent. After one more inhale, I took the jacket away from my nose and began sniffing the air.

“I’ve got it”. I then left the motel with my old teammates following right behind me.

As it began to get dark, I could smell Wanda’s scent getting stronger and stronger by the second as I kept sniffing the air, but I suddenly stopped as I began to hear something about a mile away.

“What is it (y/n)?” asked Natasha.

“Quiet!” I hissed quietly as I kept hearing.  The sound of booming like someone being collided to a building, I could also hear the sound of mystic powers being unleashed but the sound that caught my attention was the screams of a male in agony.

I then sniffed the air and I caught two more scents coming right in the same direction as Wanda and I allowed my wolf eyes to phase as well as my fangs come out.

“What is it?” asked Steve.

“Company, and they’re right where Wanda’s scent is coming from”.

“They already found them”. Stated Sam.

“But they haven’t caught them yet, alright here’s the plan”. Steve then proceeded to tell us the plan to get Vision and Wanda safely out of the battle while also unarming the aliens and getting them to talk.

*3rd Person POV*

Wanda and Vision ended up cornered by the train station.  The children of Thanos stalked towards Wanda ready to kill her but she stood before Vision and readied her hands with her powers ready to defend the love of her life, even if it killed her.

As a train passed by, something was standing in the shadows.  Proxima Midnight squinted her eyes as her attention went on the figure and Wanda turned her head to see a familiar silhouette.  Once the train had passed, Proxima threw her spear right at the figure but he leaned away and caught the spear in his hand, he then stepped out of the shadows and it was revealed that it was Steve Rogers.

Wanda and Vision looked at the Captain with hope in their eyes.  Soon the sound of sparks echoed through the station.  Proxima and her husband looked up and soon a giant armored wolf leapt from one of the magic shields and tackled Proxima and the two of them rolled across the floor, crashing through a large mirror, and tables until the wolf pinned down Proxima snarling viciously baring her fangs.

Sam soon followed behind (y/n) and fired bird bogies to distract the male figure while Natasha soon came behind him. Steve tossed Nat the spear he had from Proxima and skillfully slide under the Corvus’ sudden attack and managed to stab him right through the ribs. Growling at him as she forced the spear further into him making him hiss and roar in pain.

She then rolled over and flipped back up before kicking him right in the chest sending him to the ground.  Back with Proxima and (y/n), she managed to get a good bite out of Proxima’s shoulder, but she was suddenly kicked in the gut and was sent rolling along the ground.  

Before (y/n) could get up, Proxima leaped in the air and forced both her legs onto (y/n)’s spine. Had it not been for the Vibranium suit, she would’ve successfully broken her spine, but she still felt the force of the double jack-hammer kick.  She watched as Proxima raced towards her husband and called back her spear and just before she could kill Natasha, Steve stepped in with the male’s spear and stopped Proxima’s attack.

Both him and Nat worked together to try and bring her down and it wasn’t until Sam came in and flipped skillfully to defend himself but also knock Proxima down with a kick sending her right to the ground next to her husband.  Sam and (y/n) both came in with either guns or fangs bared snarling and ready to attack.

“Get up” Proxima snarled.

“I can’t” said Corvus.

“We don’t wanna kill you, but we will” Natasha said coldly.

“You’ll never get the chance again” sneered Proxima. She then activated something and soon the two of them were beamed up back onto their ship.  The four Avengers watched as their captives disappeared and soon the spear Steve used had beamed up with them and soon the ship took off.

*My POV*

Once the two aliens left, I phased back into my human form and my helmet dissolved revealing my face and I turned toward Steve and Nat and they just looked at me with the same look I had.

Confusion, anxiety and anger.

We walked towards Vision and Wanda who was kneeling beside him trying to get him up on his feet.  He looked to be in seriously bad shape as I saw a few stab wounds on his body, when I knew that was almost impossible.  

He was supposed to be the next level of Ultron, at least that’s what he originally was, until he was reprogrammed and thank god he was. If he had become the next level of Ultron, I don’t think any of us would be alive and I wouldn’t have met Rauri.

“Can you stand?” Sam asked as he walked up to Vision and both he and Wanda helped him stand up.  As he began to short-circuit he managed out weakly to Steve.

“Thank you, Captain”.  Steve looked at him for a moment before stating.

“Let’s get you on the jet”.  When Wanda turned her attention to me, I finally got a good, long look at her.

Her hair was now a strawberry blonde, her hair was much longer than I remembered, at least past her chest, but her eyes were ever the same.

“Hi Mama Bear”. I said happily.

“Hi Wolfie” she stated happily, tears forming in her eyes.  As she spoke, I noticed that her accent seemed to have faded away, it wasn’t as thick as when I first met her and her brother, but I had never been happier to hear her voice this time in reality instead of a dream. A throat soon cleared, and Natasha said.

“Why don’t we continue this reunion in the jet?” We all agreed and I got into my wolf form and said through my collar.

‘Get him on my back, I can carry him better’. They all looked at me in shock and I said, ‘It’s the collar long story short I’m like Dug from UP, now come on get him on’. Sam and Wanda carefully got Vision on my back and I finally got to repay my debt to him for him saving my life back on Sokovia when the city was about to explode in midair as I walked Vision to the jet with Wanda right by my side helping him keep steady.

Once we got on the Jet and Sam took the controls, as the ramp and doors closed up Natasha scolded Wanda like a mother would her own child.

“Now, I thought we had a deal? Stay close, check in. Don’t take any chances”. She then walked back to her seat.

“I’m sorry, we just wanted time” stated Wanda. She then turned towards me and I walked up towards her.  We then embraced each other tightly and I felt tears well up in my eyes as I whispered.

“Oh, I’ve missed you soo much Mama Bear”.

“I’ve missed you too Wolfie”.  Her head leaned up against mine and I felt her kiss the side of my head and we refused to let go of each other for a long time. Knowing that this was 2 years too long for us.

“Where to, Cap?” asked Sam.  Steve stayed quiet as he didn’t look to either of us until he finally said.

“Home”.

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @Makosmonkey!

*****

Christmas Party AU – Yankee Swap

“Alec, stop worrying and start trusting me. You called me for a reason, didn’t you?” Alec rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut.

“Good. Thank you.” His sister was starting to sound irritated. “Dark wash jeans, one of your work button downs, and the black pullover sweater I got you for Christmas last year. You still have it, right?”

“Yes, Iz. Somewhere. I think,” Alec muttered, emptying his shirt drawers to look for the sweater he definitely hadn’t worn. He didn’t remember donating it, so there was still hope.

“Okay, found it.”

“What do you mean, ‘found it’? Ugh, you really haven’t worn it, have you? You know, I go through a lot of effort looking for things that suit you but aren’t ten miles out of your comfort zone….”

Alec stopped listening.

“Thanks Iz, I owe you one,” he said as he jabbed the END CALL button on his phone. He hated fussing over clothes, but he wanted to make absolutely sure that he made a good impression tonight. Or, at least, a better impression than what his typical wardrobe of well-worn jackets usually did. Izzy knew style, hence his last-minute panicked call for advice.

Alec raced through the shower and threw the prescribed outfit on, combing his hair before heading downstairs to the kitchen. The invitation clipped to the fridge said the party started at 6pm, and it was already 5:57. He stared at the gift he’d picked up that afternoon on his way home, still wrapped in its plastic bag from the store. “Fuck. Wrapping.”

He ran back upstairs to his guest room, shoving the closet doors open and praying that there’d be something he could use. There. A roll of plain green wrapping paper, most likely left over from his sister from when she had stayed with him over the summer. Perhaps he owed Izzy more than one favor at this point.

Back downstairs, Alec hastily wrapped the gift and grabbed the bottle of Pinot he brought for Luke every year, nearly stumbling on his way out the door. Calm down, he told himself. It’s just a party. He picked his way down the sidewalk and around a stray snowbank or two, thankful that at least he didn’t have to worry about parking; the street was already packed with cars.

Luke’s house was, by far, the most decorated one in the neighborhood. Wreaths topped with red ribbons hung on every window and candles shone from every sill. He must have used something like a mile of string lights because every single edge of the house dripped in softly glowing icicles. The giant tree in the foyer was visible from where Alec stood on the sidewalk, glittering with silver and gold ornaments.

But never mind the decorations – Alec had to remember that tonight, he was on a mission. It was time. It was past time, really. He’d just have to buck up and be brave, and do the thing he came here to do.

Right. Here goes nothing.

He rang the doorbell and was immediately greeted by Luke, fashionably dressed in no less than Saint Nick’s signature red velvet suit, arms held wide open.

“Bro-ho-ho! Alec!”

Alec snorted and shook his head. “Really, Luke?”

“Yes, really. Tonight, I’m Santa. Don’t diss the beard man, and come on in.” Alec handed Luke the bottle of wine and followed him through the kitchen and into the den, where a second tree was set up, cluttered with presents underneath. Alec looked around the room, taking in a few familiar faces that were already paired off in deep conversations.

“Ah, almost forgot. Here,” Luke shoved a stocking toward Alec and gestured inside. Alec drew out a folded post-it note with the number seven on it and shoved it in his pocket.

“Put your gift under the tree and make yourself comfortable, Alec. Mix and mingle, like Ol’ Kris Kringle,” Luke chuckled, already backing toward the kitchen to greet his next guest. “Oh, and Maia insisted on taking over Nog duty this year, so… well, just be careful not to stand next to any open flames, if you get my drift,” Luke said over his shoulder.

Alec smiled. “Gotcha.” He turned toward the makeshift bar set up at the back of the room and raised his hand in hello to Maia.

Internally, though, he was groaning. This was the part of the party he always hated. Not this party specifically, but really, any party. Small talk was much more Izzy’s thing, even their little brother Max was better at it. For god’s sake, he was a thirty-year-old man and he couldn’t even manage to attend a party by himself without feeling awkward and out of place. He busied himself by heading to the kitchen to make a plate of appetizers; at least he’d look normal holding some food.

Before settling down in an empty chair, Alec took a loop through the crowd in each room, pretending to look for someone in particular. Well, perhaps it wasn’t pretend. That didn’t mean he actually intended to talk to the person he was looking for. Not right away, at least. He’d have to come up with a something to say first.

Alec looked down at his plate, trying to identify what was in the pile that had been labeled “Mexican Dip” that he’d generously scooped onto his plate. There wasn’t much “Mexican” about it, and the cheese had re-solidified. Maybe it was best to just leave it be for now.

“Ah, alcohol; helping us survive Christmas one sip at a time. It’s Alexander, right?” Alec nearly choked on the bacon wrapped scallop he’d been chewing on. He turned toward the voice and found he was being handed a festively decorated Solo cup filled to the brim with eggnog. Magnus.

Magnus, who was loud, attractive, and always perfectly— though often unexpectedly— dressed. Alec raised his eyes to meet Magnus’, immediately imagining himself melting into a puddle just like Frosty the Snowman threatened to. Magnus was generally flirtatious with everyone, but Alec hadn’t been able to help but watch him from a safe distance every year. Alec had come here tonight with the express intention of at the very least talking with him, and if he was feeling brave enough, hopefully flirting back.

Alec had attended Luke’s annual Christmas party almost every year he’d lived on the street, but this was the first time he’d be attending as an officially out and proud gay man. Well, out. Proud was still a work in process, no thanks to the ongoing icy relationship with his parents. Logically he knew he had nothing to be ashamed about and that his sexuality was nobody’s business but his own, but his mother’s sharp tongue and father’s disinterested tone still tended to cut at him unexpectedly, even a year after coming out to them. That announcement, or actually the resulting blow up, is what had kept him from missing the party—his annual opportunity to oogle Magnus Bane—last year.

Alec stared at the drink in his hand, trying and failing miserably to come up with something to say that wasn’t ‘finally’ or ‘thank god.’

“You looked like you could use a drink; did I read that wrong?” Magnus asked him.

Alec felt completely too caught off guard to properly respond. He thought he’d have more time to plan this interaction, why is his brain suddenly blank?!

Alec shuffled his feet and was saved from further embarrassment by Luke shouting from the kitchen.

“Come one, come all! Get your asses to my den so we can get this party started!”

Alec snorted. It sounded like Luke had been sampling some of Maya’s eggnog.

Magnus touched Alec’s elbow lightly. “Well, shall we?”

Still terribly confused, Alec followed Magnus. Why on earth was Magnus talking to him? Of all the people at this party, Alec had to look the least sociable. There were far better conversationalists; even Dot, his 80-year-old neighbor, could keep a person interested long enough to tell a story or two.

They made their way through the crowd and took a seat on the stairs in the corner of the room.

“All right, thank you everyone for coming. It’s always nice to end the year with all of your faces and all of this booze.”

“Hurrah!”

“Anyway. Thanks for all the presents, you can all go home now.”

“Fo’ real this time! To those of you who haven’t had the extreme pleasure of participating in our little holiday extravaganza exchange, here are the house rules: each of you has brought a wrapped gift and put it under the tree. When you arrived, you were given a folded piece of paper with a number on it. Whichever of you lucky sonsabitches has the number 1 will pull a gift from under the tree and unwrap it for all to see. Because there were some, uh, shall we say disagreements, last year, I will allow visual inspection of the gifts. You may pick them up and gently shake them, just don’t unwrap them until you’ve made your choice. And, Mr. Bane… apparently you need the reminder that there will be NO CHOOSING OF THE GIFT YOU BROUGHT.”

“But I bring fabulous gifts!” Magnus exclaimed, clearly disappointed that he’d been caught out. Alec stifled a chuckle.

“Anyway, the next guest will choose a gift from under the tree and model it, and then that sucker gets to choose to either keep that gift or choose from one that has already been opened. I am placing NO LIMITS on the number of times a particular gift can be stolen, or the number of times a poor soul can be stolen from.”

“Ah, I see we’ve graduated to the ‘Dirty’ version of the game,” Magnus murmured. Alec turned to look at him and found Magnus smirking, eyes filled with glee. Alec raised an eyebrow in question, but Magnus just responded with a shake of his head.

“We will continue in this manner until all those presents are unwrapped and we swing back around to number 1 again – who has that, by the way?”

*Ragnor raises his hand*

“Ok, Ragnor… at the very end, you get to choose from all the gifts, including the one you unwrap”

“Damn it, that means I’m stuck here.”

“You were stuck here anyway, my friend. No one leaves until we’re done…. With both the presents and the booze!”

Alec looked down at the folded paper in his hand. Hastily scribbled on it was the number seven. So much for lucky number seven… he’d only have a handful of gifts to choose from unless someone stole his gift near the end of the game. Magnus peered over his shoulder to steal a glance at Alec’s paper with a smile and a murmured “Perfect.”

Perfect? Maybe Magnus had been looking at something else. But Alec’s attention was quickly drawn to Ragnor grumpily unwrapping the gift in the pile that had been closest to him. He finally managed to get the box open after struggling with a particularly stubborn tape job and a soft-looking throw blanket slid out of the package, piling at Ragnor’s feet.

“Lovely,” Ragnor muttered with great distaste. He shoved the blanket into the corner of the chair he occupied and crossed his arms. “Next victim!”

“Ah ah ah, Ragnor, you have to model it!” chastised Luke. Ragnor looked at him in horror, but then bucked up and shook the blanket open to drape it around him. Alec tried to stifle a giggle, but seeing the grouchiest man he knew draped in a Snuggie was wonderfully entertaining.

“However this night ends, this moment right here has already surpassed my expectations,” Magnus said beside him, shamelessly clicking off a half a dozen photos of Ragnor pouting in his chair.

Alec nervously stood to choose his gift from the tree. It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t have to choose the gift and open it so publicly. Something about being on display like this always made him uncomfortable. He reached for a smaller square box wrapped in purple and silver paper – at least it was practically guaranteed not to be a Snuggie. He turned around to unwrap the gift in view of the rest of the party and was relieved when the paper peeled aside to reveal a Bluetooth speaker. Huh. Something he’d actually enjoy taking home for once. “A Bluetooth speaker!” he called out to the rest of the crowd, holding it up for those who might not be able to see it.

“Nice!”

“Excellent choice, Alexander,” Magnus praised him when he returned to his seat.

“Thanks. Although I guess I should really be thanking whoever brought it. This is a pretty cool gift.”

“You’re very welcome, then.” Alec looked up, immediately caught by Magnus’ happy grin. “I’m glad you like it.”

A thought suddenly occurred to Alec.

“Back there, how did you—know my name?” came tumbling out of Alec’s mouth. Great. Perfect. Smooth, Alec.

“Well, I admit that it did take some detective work on my part. I had to ask Luke weeks ago if the brooding tall tree of a man would be attending this year, as I was remarkably disappointed by his absence last year,” Magnus said with a sly smile. “And there you were, brooding away in your corner.”

Alec ducked his head to try to hide the smile rising to his lips. “Well, you weren’t here yet. I had to wait somewhere.”

That seemed to spark something in Magnus’ eyes, at least.

“So it would seem. How have we gone this long without having a proper introduction? I’m Magnus,” he said, extending his hand. Alec took it in his own, immediately relishing the warmth radiating from Magnus’s palm.

“I know,” Alec said. “And I’m Alec, obviously.” Duh.

“Do you prefer Alec, or may I call you Alexander?”

“Uh…” Max’s sarcastic voice echoed in his head. You can call me anything you want, as long as you call me. “People usually call me Alec, but…” Alec trailed off, shrugging.

“Alexander it is, then.” Magnus smiled. “Something tells me that if I ask you to tell me about yourself, I won’t get the kind of detail I’m looking for. What if I were to ask you about this tattoo, instead?” As he posed the question, Magnus trailed a finger along Alec’s neck down his throat, causing goosebumps to chase after it.

“Ah, um. That’s… I guess you could call it a symbol of protection? It means ‘deflect.’”

“Like a shield?” Magnus asked, an eyebrow raised in interest.

“Exactly. I’ve had a lot of … well, my relationship with my parents has never been great. So when I got this one, it was like this reminder to myself to block out the bad things they said. Plus,” Alec found himself continuing, “having it so large and visible it may have really pissed them off.” He smiled. He can’t say he enjoyed that fight exactly, but he did feel freer afterward.

“I don’t doubt it,” Magnus chuckled. “Is that the only one you have?”

“No, I have quite a few, actually. But the rest aren’t so, well, visible,” Alec mumbled, feeling a blush rise. For a moment there, he’d been ready to take off his sweater and his shirt to show Magnus the tattoos on his torso.

“I see,” Magnus’ eyes glowed. “Or rather, I’d like to; at some point in the future. Perhaps this isn’t the time and place.”

Alec flushed and looked down at his hands. His attention is grabbed by the crowd around him laughing in unison; somehow, the game has moved on while he and Magnus been wrapped in their own little bubble. Someone had unwrapped a towel, half of it labeled “FACE” and the other half “BUTT”.

“Now that’s certainly more of a White Elephant gift than one for a Yankee Swap… can you say ‘regift’? Oh, that poor soul is stuck with that one, I’m afraid.”

“I didn’t realize there was a difference between the two games.”

“Ah, then you must let me enlighten you. Popular theory is that the term ‘white elephant’ came from a story about the King of Siam, who was considered to be quite the evil genius. He had a brilliant way of exacting revenge on any courtier who dared displease him – he would present them with the precious gift of a rare albino elephant. At first, the unlucky courtier would be pleased as punch, thinking that they had impressed the King. But little did they know that caring for one of those elephants was a huge and costly pain in the backside and would likely lead them to financial ruin. As such, it was called a ‘fatal gift.’ I believe the story dates back to at least the 1850’s, but as far as I’m aware, no one has been able to verify that such a king existed. Nonetheless, the term still persists in popular culture.”

“Well I’m not sure that towel will lead anyone to financial ruin, but I guess I can’t say it’s a gift I would have liked to unwrap.”

Finally, Magnus springs to his feet when Luke calls for number twenty. Magnus tiptoes through the remaining gifts and makes his selection. He flings the tissues paper out of the bag until he reaches his prize: a poster-sized world map covered in the same scratch-off material lottery tickets are made of. Before Alec has a chance to realize what’s going on, Magnus has plucked the Bluetooth speaker out of Alec’s hands and replaced it with the map.

“Next number!” Magnus calls out as he reclaims his seat next to Alec, ever so closer than they had been before. Alec smirks. “I guess Luke didn’t forbid stealing your own gift, huh?”

“No, he did not make that distinction, did he?” Magnus asks around a wink.

The game continued around them and Alec is pulled back into his bubble with Magnus. They discover a shared love of tv shows (Magnus considers himself a bit of a pop culture whore) like the Runaways and the 100, and discuss how interests of younger generations typically have a bad reputation with older generations, even though the same values and lessons can be found in them. That topic carries them until Luke asks for number twenty-nine. Magnus, caught mid-sentence, raises a finger to Alec in a request to hold that thought and rises to select another package from the tree. He returns with another gift to plop in Alec’s lap and takes back the world map.

Alec is terribly confused.

“What—” is all he gets out before Magnus interrupts him with a wry smile and a finger to his own lips.

“Shhh, Alexander. You’ll see.”

Magnus takes the opportunity to ask Alec more about his tattoos, and Alec eventually stammers that each of the tattoos he’s chosen have both a deeper personal meaning and a purposeful placement on his body. That, in turn, leads to a rather lively discussion about deriving strength from elements of pop culture like music, shows, and movies, and how fictional characters can be inspirational figures in real life. Before they get too far down that path, they’re interrupted again.

It turns out, that in addition to numbers twenty and twenty nine, Magnus also has numbers thirty three and thirty seven. He steals Alec’s gift every single round. Finally, once he has seemingly completed his turns, he takes a moment to whisper in Alec’s ear.

“Luke never puts a limit on the number of gifts that can be brought to the exchange. If you bring multiple gifts, you get to take multiple gifts home. I see it as a way to increase my odds of taking home something I want. And before you ask, I had this plan to steal your gift every turn before I even walked in the door tonight. Speaking to you before the game and witnessing that adorable blush was just the cherry on top.”

Alec doesn’t even know where to begin.

“May I be presumptuous, Alexander?”

“If you must. I can probably handle it. Maybe.”

“Would you like to find some place a little less rowdy and continue our conversation over a nightcap?”

Alec takes a deep breath. “I know just the place, actually. And it has the benefit of being close by, since I don’t think any of these guys are in shape to move their cars.”

Alec helps Magnus with his coat and gestures down the sidewalk. Magnus takes his hand, and the words “cheeks are nice and rosy and comfy cozy are we” echo in his head.

They continue their discussion of how tattoos have helped Alec unlock his truth (with each one he gets, he feels a little more sure about who he is and what he stands for, what he wants to fight for). Magnus responds that he feels that Alec has unlocked something in him as well.

Alec tugs on Magnus’ hand to pull him to a stop in front of his house. “Well, we’re here,” he stammers. Magnus chuckles, clearly surprised but pleased that Alec has led him here. Fuck, that’s probably the smoothest he’s ever been, and he has no proof for Izzy that he came up with it himself.

“May I ask another question, Alexander?”

“You can ask me anything you want, Magnus.”

“Do you believe in the theory of soulmates?”

“I believe it’s possible.”

And reader, he kissed the living daylights out of that man.

[stressa-bessa]

Graduation Gowns Lie in Rags at Their Feet

High School!Peter Parker x Reader

Fluff with a lil angst and some light swearing!

Word count: 2312

Today was your last day of high school. After 4 years of commitment, heart ache, perseverance and friendship, it was time that you and your friends graduated. You were so grateful for the people you had met in your time at Midtown, MJ always made you feel normal as you were never like the popular girls at school, Ned always giving you something to laugh about, whether you were laughing at him and his thousand piece Lego sets or something silly that he whispered in class, he was always able to bring a smile to your face on the darkest of days. And finally, Peter. Peter was the boy who never ceased to give you butterflies. His big brown eyes would constantly melt your heart, and his gentle touch could send shivers down your spine. You had met him in Grade 9 in Biology, the two of you had been paired up as lab partners and that is where your friendship began. Well, more like the day you fell in love with Peter Parker.

Over the years, you felt that maybe Peter liked you back. He would do little things here and there that would make you think that he was hinting to potential feelings, like bring you a sandwich from his favourite shop and would write a cute note on the napkin. You had built up enough courage to ask him out at lunch one day, but before you had the chance he had started to ramble about Liz and how beautiful she is. You had felt so defeated. MJ knew of your feelings for Peter and she sympathized for you. That night she had come over with Ben & Jerry’s and let you cry it out on her shoulder, sans sarcastic comments.

From that day on, you tried to suppress your feelings for Peter and decided to focus on the genuine friendship that the two of you shared. One night at the beginning of your final year, you heard a soft knock at your bedroom window. You truly thought you were about to die because who else would be at your bedroom window past 10pm? As you slowly pulled your curtain aside, you saw a disheveled Peter, wearing a Spiderman suit. It was that night when he told you he was Spiderman, and ever since then you were even more in love with him. All your efforts for almost an entire year were flushed down the drain. The two of you hand shared such an intimate moment after Peter had climbed through your window. He had been injured in a fight and needed help, just so he could get through the night without Aunt May worrying. Peter had said that you were the only person he could trust with his secret, other than Ned and Tony, but he knew that neither of them would be able to help him. Peter had stayed over that night and you nursed him back to health like the good “friend” you are. He told you stories about his time as Spiderman and it was those stories that drew you in. His compassion, bravery and sheer goodness spoke so much about who Peter was as a person, the kind of person you wished to have as your own, all to yourself.

You often found yourself thinking about that night, wishing you had told him your feelings.

With a sigh, you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and place your cap on your head. You were supposed to meet the gang at school in 20 minutes, so you could take some silly photos and find your place before the actual graduation started.

“So, you both have tickets?” You ask your mom as you sling your purse over your shoulder.

“Yes, honey. We will see you in a little over an hour.” Your mom smiles, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“Alright! I love you!” You say quickly as you rush out the door, the sound of it slamming behind you.

 --------------------------

You could see MJ and Ned standing by the gymnasium waiting for you and Peter.

“Hey guys!” You smile as you walk up to them.

“Hey, have you seen Peter?” Ned asks, looking incredibly concerned.

“No, I thought he was with you guys?”

“No, I haven’t seen him yet. Even Tony Stark is here and said he hasn’t seen him.” MJ replies as worry slowly grows on her face. She scrunches her eyebrows together as she pulls out her phone to call the spider-boy.

“Maybe he’s late?” You suggest, trying not to think of the worst possible outcomes.

“No way, May is here and is sitting beside Mr.Stark.” Ned answers, pointing behind him in the direction of the gym.

“No answer.” MJ sighs as she puts her phone back into her pocket.

“I’ll text him.”

You pull out your phone and draft a text.

Y/N: Hey Pete, you okay? We’re all looking for you!

Within seconds you get a reply.

Pete💕: I’m in the locker rooms. I can’t do this.

“You guys, he’s hiding in the locker rooms. I’ll go get him. Ned, can you hold my stuff?” You ask as you take off your cap and hand your friend your purse and gown.

You walk down the hallway, past the gym and open the boy’s locker room. You didn’t have to worry about getting caught as there was barely anyone around. All you could hear were the soft click of your high heels on the tile.

“Pete? Peter?” You call out, listening attentively for a reply. You could faintly hear sniffles from the benches behind the lockers.

Peeking your head around the corner, “Pete?” you call once more before coming face to face with a red eyed Peter Parker.

“Peter, what’s wrong?” You ask sympathetically, pulling your dear friend into a hug.

“It’s just a lot. Today is a lot.” He sighs, sitting down on the wooden bench. “I’m so overwhelmed. Tony had a party for me with everyone last night and there were three people that I wanted so desperately to be there. Those three who I wish could be sitting with May and Tony.” Peter cries, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Peter. I am so sorry. I didn’t even think to ask you lately as to how you’ve been feeling.”

“It’s no one’s fault, and that’s what I have to keep telling myself, but today…I just can’t.”

“You know, Peter,” You say as you crawl beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Just because you can’t hear them shouting your name when you cross the stage, doesn’t mean that they aren’t still here.” As you say these last words, you grab his soft hand in yours.

“Ben’s compassion is here, your father’s intelligence is here, your mothers sacrifice, and kindness is here. They are all in here.” You say, tapping his chest lightly with your finger, over his heart. “Your family will always be with you, and my god Pete, they would be so fucking proud of the man you’ve become.” You smile, wiping a running tear from his cheek. “I am so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Y/N. You always know what to say. I don’t know how you do it, but it works.” Peter smiles, leaning back to rest his head against the concrete wall. “Your earlier comment…It made me think about something that I’ve wanted to get off my chest for a while.” Peter admits.

“What comment Pete?” You ask, completely confused as to where this is coming from.

“When you said that you didn’t ask how I was feeling. You are always so thoughtful, and I haven’t always been to you. I want to apologize for last spring…MJ told me about it and I feel horrible, Y/N.”

You felt your heart stop. Part of you was humiliated that MJ had told Peter that you not only had a massive crush on him, but that he broke your heart. The other half made you feel like you wanted to crawl into a ball and die.

“Peter, it’s-“

“No, it’s not okay. I was lying not only to you, but also to myself. I liked Liz, yes, but I didn’t love her. Y/N, I have been in love with you since the day we dissected that frog together in Bio, back in grade 9. I was always so nervous to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin things, you are my best friend and I can talk to you about anything and everything. Like that night when I had my ass kicked, you were the only person I could think of that would help me and not be freaked out because you always know what to do and what to say.” Peter sighs, running a hand through his messy curls.

“I guess what I’m trying to tell you is that I love you. And I am going to miss you like crazy next year. It’s going to hurt like a bitch, but I’d rather you know then have it never be said.” Peter’s voice trails off towards the end. His eyes were looking down at his dress shoes to avoid looking you in the eye.

“Peter. I love you so much.” You reply, grabbing his chin to match his gaze. “I love you, Peter Parker. I am your third person in the audience today. I know I can never replace them, but maybe I can help expand the family you do have.” You smile, brushing his matted curls out of the way of his eyes.

“Y/N, I want you to be mine. My parents, Ben, they would have loved you. I just worry about next year-“

“Peter, we are both moving to Boston. Relax.” You chuckle, shaking your head at the silly boy. I guess the wives’ tales are true, men don’t know how to listen!

“Oh.” Peter breathes, looking up at you intently, “I guess, Y/N? Would you like to come over after graduation to watch a movie?”

“Peter Parker, are you asking me on a date?”

“Yea-Yes, I think I am.” He smiles bravely, looking right at you. Peter leans in slowly and places a soft and delicate kiss to your lips. You could feel him start to smile as your return his kiss.

“I think we should get going, we don’t want to miss our graduation.” You mumble before stealing another kiss from Peter.

“Aunt May would kill me if I missed it!”

 ------------------------

Ned and MJ had already crossed the stage which meant that you and Peter were the only ones left in your friend group to “officially” graduate. You crossed the stage with poise, shaking the principle’s hand as the secretary announced the awards you’ve won and which school and program you will be attending in the fall.

Next was Peter. As he crossed the stage, you could hear Tony and Aunt May hooting and hollering from the front row. At the back of the gym you could see Steve, Natasha and Bruce, disguised but equally as proud. The look in Aunt May’s eye made your heart sing. She looked as if this were the best day of her life. There was one photo hanging in their hallway, back at the apartment, where she shared that exact smile. It was a photo of her and Uncle Ben leaving the church on their wedding day.

Once the ceremony had ended, it was time for all the parents to request photos of their children much to their disapproval.

As you and Peter were posing with the crew, he pulled Aunt May aside and asked if you could join them back at the apartment.

“Doesn’t she want to spend time with her family?” Aunt May asked Peter as she licked her finger to try and fix one of Peter’s unruly curls.

“Well, it is kinda our first date…” Peter mumbles before scoffing at his Aunt for trying to fix his hair.

“Oh, I see…” She smiles with a wink. “How about I go for a drink with Tony to discuss your plans for next year and how the internship might be affected, let’s say I’ll be home around 8?”

“You’re the best May.” Peter smiles, pulling his Aunt in for a hug.

“I larb you, you know. You’re my boy, I’m so proud of you. Ben would be so proud of you.” She says softly as she wipes a tear from her eye before messing up Peter’s hair.

“I larb you too, Aunt May.” Peter replies with a smile, even though he could feel tears burning at his eyes at the thought of Uncle Ben.

Peter walks up to the bleachers where the three of you are waiting for him. He snakes an arm around your waist before plastering a smile across his cheeks.

“I see you finally grew a pair.” MJ smirks as she rests her elbow on Ned.

“I think that’s her way of saying she is going to miss you.” You joke, poking Peter in the rib.

“We will all see each other soon, we have all summer.” Ned replies, looking intensely at Peter. “What am I gunna do without you man?”

“Ah, Ned! You’ll see me plenty! You’re only an hour away.” Peter replies bringing his buddy in for a hug.

A shrill voice breaks up the boy’s hug, as Ned quickly says that he must go before waving goodbye at everyone.

“I should get goin’ too.” MJ sighs, “I’ll see you both soon.” She adds as she hugs you both before walking towards her parent’s car.

You and Peter stood there for a moment, just embracing the silence and letting the events of today slowly sink in.

“I’m hungry.” You announce, grabbing Peter’s hand.

“Thai food?” He suggests, looking down at you.

“Thai food.” You smile up at him as he leans in for one more kiss.

A/N: a small blurb I wrote based on a prompt I found, the prompt was “even thought you can’t hear them, it doesn’t mean that they aren’t here”. It has not been edited as I am just too sleepy but if you have any questions, comments, or suggestions, please send them to me!  I hope you enjoyed!

Taglist: @loki-in-hogwarts @spiderlingsweb

[deepdisireslonging]

Family Found Part 44: Last Ambrose Standing

AKA ‘Fastlane and Burn’, Dean and the Reader’s conflict comes to a head. But when the final moments are in their hands, can they do what is necessary to win their Last Ambrose Standing match? The following Monday an old rival of the roster makes an appearance and a demand.

Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, angst

Word Count: 4665

Note: I swear, my matches are only two paragraphs. But then you gotta have dialogue and some plot advancement, and suddenly there’s so much! It reads quick, or it did for me. And it was fun/angsty to write. If you like how things are going, or if this chapter made you cry, comments (anon or not) and reblogs are always super appreciated. Enjoy! [P.S.: For the record, I’ve had my WM planned since January. Any similarities to what’s actually happening on Raw is just chance.]

Part 1: Welcome to the Team

Part 43: It’s Official

Fastlane – March 10, 2019 – Green Bay, WI

Renee gave the online audience a bright smile. “And welcome to the road to WrestleMania! Fastlane is well underway, and it is almost time for the show to begin. But first, the Raw tag titles contenderships are on the line. Whoever wins this might be going to WrestleMania. It’s a bit of an odd mix going into this match.”

“Yes, it is,” Cole said. “The Revival and the B Team we’ve seen before in big events like this. But how do you think the new team of Dana Brook and Tyler Breeze are going to hold up?”

Corey whined back and forth. “I don’t know. They have both had established places in the WWE, but have been lost in the shuffle for the last several months. I’m curious to see how their plan will work to bring them back into the spotlight.”

“It’s time to see that plan in action,” Renee said as the aforementioned team entered. They received a loud pop from the crowd, though that was drowned out as the B Team, and then the Revival entered the arena.

They each took a corner, bouncing while waiting for the bell. But the stage lit up again. With the entrance of Kevin Owens.

“What!” Corey shouted. “Welcome back, but who is he going to tag with?”

Renee was almost bouncing in her seat. “I think I know who…”

The stage lit up in reds and black as Sami Zayn made his return to the WWE as well. He and Kevin shared a hug, soaking in their welcome from the crowd before going down to the ring. Inside, their opponents were complaining to the referee. But the match was being announced as a fatal four-way for the number one contender spot for the tag titles. Sami and Kevin took the last corner, with Kevin starting the match. He was instantly the target of everyone else in the ring. Sami helped him retreat through the ropes and they backed off, turning on each other.

Tagging in their other halves began. At Breeze’s tag, Dana went after Dawson before he could call in Wilder, and then engaged with Bo Dallas. Sami jumped in, working his way around the ring, knocking partners off the apron so they wouldn’t be available later. Curtis Axel fell the most dramatically. Kevin bided his time, crouching on the floor until Sami needed him. Then they traded while everyone else was exhausted and out. This continued to help them, all the way up to the pin. Sami jumped in, double pinning Bo under the referee’s count.

They celebrated their win, and their continued welcome back as the final preparations for Fastlane wrapped up.

***

Beginning Fastlane with a bang was the Raw Women’s Championship match between defending Ember Moon against Ruby Riott. Depending on who you asked, both women had lost before the bell had rung. Ember had reached her goal of title reign days, but she was still fighting to see how far she could go beyond that. Ruby had suffered losses for the last three weeks, but those losses had ignited enough of a fire that Ember was on the defense. Half-way through the match, both women sprawled out in the ring after a long combination of moves.

“I can’t leave this ring without that title,” Ruby muttered. Ember lifted her head up just enough to catch her eye. “If I can’t… if I can’t win titles, then why am I here?” Ruby wobbled to her hands and knees. “If I can’t… then how can I lead my friends?” She finally made it to her feet, though it looked like a puff of breath could knock her over.

Ember struggled to stand as well and held up her fists. “But what if you can? I’m not just going to give it to you, but you know what you’re fighting for. So fight. Because that’s what I’m here to do. Not for titles or for gold, but for my pride and to hear my name chanted by everyone in this arena. If I’m honest, I don’t think you will leave this ring with the title. I don’t think you have it in you.”

“But what if you’re wrong?” Ruby launched forward with another attack, reinvigorating the match. She pushed and she fought until her lungs burned and Ember’s eyes were half-lidded with exhaustion. With a scream, she threw everything else she had and fell on top of her opponent. One. Two. Three.

“And you’re new Raw Women’s Champion: Ruby Riott!”

Ruby fell to her knees with the title in her hands. She stayed there until Liv Morgan and Sarah Logan appeared by her sides and helped her to her feet where she could hold it high above her head.

***

Ruby stayed ringside for her teammates’ match against Mickie James and Alicia Fox for their tag titles. They moved like a team reborn. Liv’s bright hair caught Alicia in the face, inspiring her to laugh. Sarah mostly engaged with the veteran Mickie, fighting to endure the reserves of years of wrestling and maneuvers that hadn’t seen a ring in ages. Alicia fought back with her repertoire that soon had the Squad on the defense.

Then the mistakes came. Alicia, proud in how flat Sarah was laid in the ring, stepped to the ropes to haggle Ruby instead of going for the pin. Mickie frantically called for a pin or for a tag. But Liv sneaked up behind the teammate and swept her feet out from under her. Alicia heard the cry as she fell and twisted around in time for Sarah to catch her. The bell rang as the Squad retained their titles. As the champion trio, they stood in the ring as three of the most powerful women on the Raw roster.

***

For the number one Intercontinental contendership, Finn Balor and Dolph met in the ring. The palms of Finn’s hands were red, like the demon was desperate to get out but the man wouldn’t let him have full control. That made Dolph warry. One: why would he hold back with so much on the line? And two: how powerful was the man if he could hold back a demon king? He didn’t have much to think about it as Finn attacked. They were caught in a headlock until Dolph was forced back into the ropes. He glared at the ref from between them. Who cares who or what the man was? He was just a man.

The match danced from ring post to ring post along the ropes and round from the floor. Both men were showing how much they wanted even a chance at the title by how much damage they could take and dish out. Finn took it the best. Dolph struggled more and more to get to his feet after each assault. He remained flat on his back after barely kicking out of a pin. Climbing the turnbuckles, Finn went for a Coup de Grace. At the last possible second, Dolph moved, catching Finn in a roll-up. Out of sight of the ref, he used the ropes for a bit of extra leverage. It was enough. He made a hasty exit before Finn could figure out why he’d lost.

Backstage, Charly caught up with Dolph. “Having won your match, how soon do you want to face your former partner for a title match? Will we see it tomorrow, or on the grandest stage of them all at WrestleMania?”

Dolph continued to catch his breath while he thought. “I’m ready when Drew is. Tomorrow. Next week. WrestleMania. Whenever he thinks is his best chance to beat me, let’s go. I will be at my best because I am the best out of anyone on Raw.” He broke off as the champion himself walked up. He was dressed in a suit and had the title resting on his shoulder. Dolph did his best to get into his space and maybe get sweat onto the nice fabric.

“When will I be ready for you? I’d fight you right now, but I want ya after you’ve rested. After you’ve had a good night’s sleep. And then, when ya have ya strength and your full hubris back, I’m going to bury you in that ring. So, I’ll see you tomorrow Dolph. An’ the best man will win again, like I do every time.” He reached up and gave Dolph a heavy double pat on his cheek. “Sleep tight.” He smirked and walked away as Dolph growled after him.

***

Roman watched Dean finish taping up his hands. “You don’t have to go through with this, you know. She’s probably not doing this for the reasons you think.”

“And what would you know about it?” Dean spat. He grit his teeth and twisted his neck. “What you’ve seen from home is just the tip of the iceberg. And besides, she brought it up. I’m just finishing what she’s started.” Dean rolled his shoulders back. “If I had gotten in your way of taking the Universal, would you let Seth or the Usos talk me out of it?”

A long pause was his answer. Nodding, Dean walked away to enter the arena.

You followed shortly after, wearing the gear you’d made for Summer Slam. Really it was the only gear you had. At the same time, you hoped that Dean would see it and realize his cousin was still in it, and not some villain for him to slay.

There wasn’t much room for that hope. Before you’d even made it to the ring, you could see that Dean had his trusty kendo stick quiver wrapped over his shoulder. You entered the ring with only yourself. You had made the choices you did without weapons or premeditated woes. But once that bell rang, you would fight to defend your reasons.

The match happened in three stages. At first, it felt like any other sparring practice when learning with any of your friends-turned-trainers. You even forgot yourself and found a smile spreading across your face and a laugh escaping. Dean’s dimples made an appearance. Then the roar of the crowd brought you back to reality. The match turned real. You tried to win a pin as fast as possible. If you could do that before the very real devices under the ring came out, then maybe you wouldn’t regret this so much.

But the devices did come out. You grabbed a chair to use as a shield when Dean finally began to use his kendo stick. There was also a chain that you used like a whip to rip it out of his hands. Then he followed you into the ring. The chain became your means of keeping Dean away. Or keeping him close in a submission hold.

“Please, Dean,” you tried, “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

He struggled to detangle himself from the chain, effectively taking it from your hands in the process. “Is that an apology?”

“No.”

“Then we’re not done.”

It went on. Your hearts were no longer in it but you fought hard anyway. Dean’s practiced ingenuity was getting the best of you. Bringing in more things from under the ring wasn’t going to work. He’d been a hardcore wrestler; had the scars as proof. So you ended it like how they’d taught you to: find one weakness and target it. Somewhere in the scuffle Dean had developed a limp. You knew Seth would have some pointers, so you aimed for that injury. He couldn’t fight you if he couldn’t stand.

Dean was able to wobble onto his legs one last time. You climbed the turnbuckles, about to spin with your modified punch that Roman helped you with. Dean fell before you could finish setting up. The referee started the count.

“No!” You rushed down and tried to stop him. “I’m the general manager and I said stop!” He paused, looking past you to Dean. You didn’t look back. “Call off the match. It’s done. I lost.” While the shocked referee went to tell the bell box, you left the ring. It announced overhead, making you flinch.

With all of your might, you wanted to walk away without looking. But a tiny shard made you turn. He was staring at you. Not angry. Definitely not broken. Just… staring at you. Through you. It felt like no matter what you did from this moment on, you were damned. “I’m sorry, Dean,” you said, hopefully loud enough for him to believe you. “I’m so, so sorry.”

***

With the Universal Championship on the line, Seth Rollins and Mojo Rawley pulled out all the stops. Even since Monday, Mojo had found a new hold and a quick tackle that kept blindsiding Seth. The King Slayer would manage to kick out, then stand while shaking away the ringing in his ears. They re-met with a quick handshake. Seth dug deep too and borrowed one of Dean’s old submission holds that pinned Mojo’s arms far out of use with his knees. He rocked back and forth. This backfired as Mojo was able to use the moment to roll around and switch the tension. Seth had to release.

The submission holds gave way to the game of endurance. The universe had already seen Seth fight for over an hour multiple times. But Mojo held his own too. If the dream requires you to run from one side of the earth to the other, then you have to train to run around it twice to account for all the unforeseeable hurdles in between. Rawley kept Seth on his toes, knocking him out of the air and knocking out his ability to stand. He took a second to stare at the title resting in the lap of a techie in the bell box. Seth took it to use his remaining functioning limbs to cut Mojo down until he could end the match with a Curb Stomp. The Universal had been retained.

***

***

Monday Night Raw – March 11, 2019

You couldn’t start Raw without a little housekeeping first. Elias nodded as you continued speaking. “You see, you have to pick your WrestleMania opponent… tonight. I really should have had you pick before Fastlane but-“

“You were busy.”

The heat behind your cheeks simmered as you focused on breathing. “Yeah. Busy. But have you made a decision? That is… you have been thinking about it, right?”

Elias scoffed. “Of course. I’m going to challenge-“

He didn’t get to finish as a large hand grabbed the scruff of his scarf and shirt and tugged him away. Brock Lesnar stepped into his place. Paul Heyman hovered like a grinning shadow. “Good to see you, Ms. Ambrose. I hope you are having a lovely stress-free evening.” Paul somehow grinned wider.

“I was,” you mumbled. “Can I help you guys? Or are you just here to rough up my wrestlers?”

Brock chuckled and looked down to Paul. He took his cue to speak. “We won’t be here long as we’re not staying for the show. But my client, Brock Les-“

“We all know who your client is. Get to the point.”

“My client, Brock Lensar, is just here to ask for his title. And he’s going to ask nicely. This time.” Paul leaned closer to you. “You won’t be able to play him like you’ve been playing everyone here. He won’t be so nice then.” He leaned back with a smirk, posing with a hand crossed over his other wrist.

You switched your attention from Heyman to the Beast Incarnate. “I don’t know why you’re trying to be all dramatic and scary. You haven’t been here since… oh, Summer Slam? As far as I’m concerned, you don’t deserve a return.” The sass slipped from your voice. Your words scorched your throat. “But Vince McMahon called last week. Your match is already set. For WrestleMania. I was just about to inform your opponent.”

Brock smiled and nodded. He turned and walked out of your office with another word. For Elias’s sake, you hoped the drifter wouldn’t want into the Universal title picture.

***

In the ring, Drew McIntyre came to stand dead-center with his Intercontinental title over his shoulder. “We all know what’s planned for tanight. I am the champion. And I am goin’ to walk out of this ring… as champion. It wasn’t goin’ to matter who won at Fastlane, but ya know what? I’m glad it’s Dolph. He’s been impatiently waiting for his chance to get back at me for somethin’ that happened months ago.” Drew chuckled. “Honestly, I was willing to put it all behind me a while ago. But then he kept pushing. And kept gettin’ in the way. Fine. Now is the time of your destruction, Dolph. Now-“

Dolph entered early, saving the crowd from more of the monologue. For a second it looked like he was going to use the mic in his hands, but he dropped it instead. He marched down to the ring, fighting back a grimace as his pace tweaked a new sore spot. It did not go unnoticed.

They met at the bell. Eager to make it a quick match, Drew targeted the areas he knew that Finn had damaged. It didn’t go as quick as he hoped. And Dolph nearly caught him in a Zig Zag several times. But the targeting had done its job. Drew caught him with a Glasgow Kiss and barely had to work to pin him. Laughing he made his way up to the stage, picking up the mic Dolph dropped earlier.

“This is the best of Dolph Ziggler? This is the best of the Raw roster? Who could even think to step to me?” His smirk disappeared as Elias strummed onto the stage. Drew growled as the drifter stopped playing just long enough to poke at the title. Drew snatched it away and reared back for a punch. But Elias was quicker. And he had a longer reach with his guitar in hand. Wood fractured and splintered across the stage. Over Drew’s momentarily damaged body, Elias took up the title. He looked between it and his smashed guitar. Gingerly, he draped it over Drew, then walked away.

***

When the call came in that Dean had interrupted Seth’s entrance, you rushed to the ring. Dean was waiting for you sitting in a lone chair in the ring. “Well, that didn’t take long.”

“Please, can you not do this right now?”

You waved him away and tried to leave for backstage but he stood and leaned forward onto the ropes. “Why not? What’s so important that we can’t discuss what I got out of winning our match yesterday?”

With a huff, you rolled back your shoulders. “I just had to tell Seth before he came out here that his WrestleMania opponent is Brock Lesnar. And I… I really need a break.”

He waved you down to the ring, which you begrudgingly obliged. “One more headache and then you can find a hole to hide in. It seems to be an Ambrose thing. Since you’re handing out championship opportunities, why don’t you add one more person to that match? I think beating the general manager of Raw is pretty-“

“No.” With a grin, Dean stepped back from the ropes as you entered. “You didn’t pin me, and you didn’t make me tap. I surrendered. I surrendered so that I hopefully could put this all to rest. Please, Dean… I didn’t have a choice-“

“Yes, you did. All of us work our asses off to build this business, but the second that… the second that Lesnar wants something, he gets it. No questions asked.” Dean punched the side of his face as his blood began to boil. “But I’m asking questions. No, I’m done with questions. Now it’s time for demands. Put me in the match, Y/N!”

“No! You don’t know what you’re doing, Dean. There are levels of this that you can’t see.”

“What levels?” he spat. “Levels of you hurting my career to protect you from ‘favoritism’? Or of how much of your soul you’ve given to the remnants of the Authority.”

“Stop.” You walked away, but Dean’s voice followed you.

“No, I won’t. And if you don’t do what’s right, and put me in the spot that I deserve, then I am going to fight you. Not in the ring. We’ve already done that and seen what you’re willing to burn. No. I won’t stop usurping your precious plans and using my last breath to destroy the position you built over family.”

“Fine!” You spun around. Eyes flashing, your jaw ached from the tension. You focused on that tension, feeling it colliding with the pain that had settled into your bones over the past months. With a sigh, you accepted that it would probably never go away. It was all a split second, but the oceans of emotions drowned you eons ago. You laced your words with cold, unfeeling ice. “Dean Ambrose, as won by your match at Fastlane, you also have a spot in the Universal Championship match at WrestleMania. And may God forgive me… since you probably never will.”

Seth came rolling into the ring just as you finished. Dean bumped into him as you both turned towards your separate ways. “Why are you so hard on her, man?”

He barked a laugh. “Didn’t you hear her? We had all that destruction last night, and she didn’t change a bit. All of this is still for business. Nothing more. We’re just pawns. We could have been building momentum between us for weeks for another show stopper, but Brock comes in here and just walks into an opportunity.”

Struggling to get in a word, Seth said, “I don’t know. All of this feels weird. Something tells me there are outside forces here. I really think you should just listen to her and-“

“Don’t you have a match to get for?” Dean shot him down.

Seth bit back anything else he had to say. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Hissing out strained air, Seth let him leave and ran a hand through his hair.

***

As Dean stormed towards backstage, Apollo Crews came out for his match with Seth. He stayed on stage just long enough for your cousin to disappear, then smiled as Titus O’Neil joined him. They walked side-by-side to the ring with Apollo hoping onto the apron and Titus walking around to the back to do the same. Before they could enter the ring, Roman’s entrance took over the system. Battle lines drawn, the match was remade as a tag match.

Seth nodded towards the stage, asking about Dean. Roman shook his head. Backstage with a resolute deaf-to-reason Dean was not the best place to be. Not when he could help elsewhere.

It was like old times. Apollo and Titus seemed to forget their thundercloud-plan to take advantage of Seth. Or at least postponed it to another time when maybe he wouldn’t have backup on hand. Frazzled, the former team of Titus Worldwide struggled to stay afloat. Roman and Seth kept isolating each man, wearing him down so much that even after having a break, he couldn’t do much to relieve his partner. Seth ended up pinning Apollo, with Roman standing over Titus outside the ring where he’d been speared through a barricade.

***

“Now would you look at all this gold?” Ruby slapped the championship around her waist. To either side, Sarah and Liv snickered, adjusting their own titles on their shoulders. “We’ve said it several times, so you all should know by now, but the Riott Squad is the best there is on Monday Night Raw. And Fastlane just proved that once again.” She spun the mic around in her hands, watching the lights flicker over her title. “And this isn’t just for tonight. Or next week. Or just this month. Hell, the plan isn’t even to just ‘survive’ until WrestleMania. No. We are going to run this show, command that woman’s locker, and own these titles until somebody back there decides that they are good enough to even think about contending with us. Anyone back there is welcome to try. But we will run them into the ground, and we will do that every time someone steps to us! Whether it is for the Raw tag titles, or for the Raw women’s championship.” Ruby opened her arms for Liv and Sarah to perch under.

They were still laughing together when they were interrupted. Alexa Bliss walked out with Alicia Fox and Mickie James at her shoulders. Miss Bliss slow clapped until she was standing at the top of the ramp. “Congratulations, Ruby. No, really. That’s great. But your ladies have unfinished business with mine.”

Liv stepped up, accepting Ruby’s mic. “Um, that’s not the way we see it. Because… we beat them last night. Quickly, I might add.”

“No, no. Ruby, honey, you were a distraction to my team last night. And when Alicia was too busy making sure you wouldn’t interfere, your bubblegum haired pixie attacked Mickie James who wasn’t even tagged in at the time.” The ladies in question nodded along. “So I say, we’re not done.”

Ruby’s smile spread to a dangerous level, the kind that was inspired by a master plan. “Okay. Fine. But to ensure that none of us are a distraction to the other, why don’t we just put all the titles on the line. The Riott Squad versus… whatever you call your ragtag group.”

Despite the name-calling, Alexa matched her wicked smirk. “Deal.” She tossed the mic over her shoulder and joined Mickie and Alicia in the run down to the ring.

For the first good while, the sudden appearance of the trio had the Riott Squad scrambling to have a plan. It came back eventually like muscle memory. Having championship gold on the line, especially all of it, was a great motivator. Ruby’s mind worked quickly to move her team around so they could have more than just twenty-four hours as a triumphant team. Alexa misread one of her barked commands and tagged herself in. Sarah instead of Liv jumped into the ring, and Alexa was too deep into the ring to turn back. So she ran forward, half-reforming an attack that fell flat. Like she did onto her back a few seconds later. Ruby and Liv barreled forward to keep Mickie and Alicia from breaking the pin, which ensured the win.

Sarah shoved Alexa out of the ring so that they could all pose again with their retained championships.

***

Kevin and Sami had asked for the last few minutes of Raw to reintroduce themselves to the WWE Universe. You gave it to them easily. So they smiled and laughed, basking in the second welcome of the week. They were just lifting the mics to speak when AOP appeared from the audience and began to circle the ring. On the Titantron, Dr. M appeared from his deserted hospital.

“Did you really think that your shock return would guarantee a new life as a tag team? Kevin… Sami… your betrayal of each other runs deep. It will always be there, like a scar. And no tricks devised by you, or cleared by Y/N can cover them up. Tricks are superficial remedies to deep tissue secrets and doubts.”

Rezar and Akam finished circling the ring and came to stand at the base of the ramp.

“Secrets are the disease of the WWE. And Y/N has stepped into the role of Typhoid Mary. Not to worry… that will soon be cured. As well as the sudden arrival of the pestilence of Sami Zayn and Kevin Owens. The Authors of pain need no tricks, no snake oil to save the tag division.” The men turned their backs and walked back up the ramp as Dr. M finished. “So welcome back. But you will not enjoy your short stay.”

Part 45: Oncoming Storm 

Series Masterlist 

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @blondekel77 @hallemichelles @laochbaineann @ramblingsofabourbondrinker @savmontreal @southsidebucky @tinyelfperson @zuni21798 

WWE/Series Tags: @a-home-for-stray-stories   @top-1-percent @mother-forker @neversatisfiedgirl @racheo91 @roman-reigns-princess @secretagentfangirl @thetherianthropydaily @scuzmunkie @cait-kae @ramsaypants @sony-undead18 @brianaraydean @st4yingstrong @dopeybubbles @crystallizeme @jessica91073 @denise8691 @stalelight @kenyadakblalock @1dluver13xx @lauren-novak @lunatic-desert-child @littledeadrottinghood @livelifewondering 

[grantfieldgrove]

Your friends want you to fail.

It’s true.

It’s true and it sucks.

But the sooner you realize this, the better off you’ll be. You can set yourself on the course for success while leaving them behind.

That’s exactly what your friends don’t want, but you have the capability to make it happen.

I’m not trying to be negative, but I’ve learned this the hard way.

Let me back up a bit.

Ten years ago I was working a dead end job at a grocery store. I hated it. The pay was crap. The work was crap. Most of the customers were crap. But I had friends!

I was miserable. I had a temper, I was angry about everything. I was bitter that I worked this job I didn’t like when I knew I should be doing better. I was all over social media, posting about everything, even belittling people I didn’t even know by snapping pictures of them and posting them, then enjoying a laugh at their expense.

That’s bottom of the barrel, self-esteem wise.

I would fight with people who held different political beliefs than me, different opinions about religion, or even movies. I was the loud mouth Fred Flintstone type, but I always got laughs. At least some.

It didn’t take long after my son was born to realize that something wasn’t quite right with him. He was extremely delayed and obviously autistic. I blew it off and didn’t believe it, making excuses as to why he was so behind.

We had to enroll him in a special school at age 2. The bitterness grew.

One day I decided to buy an iPad. Just because.

I took it home, unboxed it, and sat on my floor to play with it. But instead of playing games, I started writing.

I literally started writing a novel out of nowhere. It was a hoot. I started carrying a little notebook around work, thinking of plot points. It was great, because when you carry a notebook and pen around while working, people assume you’re working really hard!

Before I knew it, I had a book. I didn’t know what the hell to do with it, but I had one.

I found out you can self-publish books on Amazon, so that’s exactly what I did. I gave it a once or twice over, figured out how to format it, and it was published. And wow, did it have a lot of typos. The story was good, though. Some people bought it and it actually got good reviews. Some friends even bought it, though I doubt many of them read it. But still, it felt good. So I started the second book and finished it in record time. This one was even funnier and I liked it a lot, although, once again, I skimped on the editing.

Shortly before the release of that book, I had a falling out with most of my friends. I had planned a big party in Las Vegas, everyone was going to attend, but it was just a disaster. We had a suite at the Aria, but none of my friends even stayed in the hotel. Not a problem, but they stayed way down the strip at Paris. Then got so drunk at the pool, not a single person showed up. So yeah, I was pissed. And the party wasn’t just for fun, it was a special occasion for my wife. And every one of them let me down. So that’s that. We left first thing in the morning, leaving them all in the dust.

Nothing was really the same after that.

All of this is just specific backstory that doesn’t pertain to you, but the basic elements could. The moral of the story remains the same.

Cut to ten years after I first sat down to write that novel. I now have 11 books, including the first ever murder mystery series for kids, which even, somehow, became the runner up for some award I already forgot the name of. Three of my books have been produced into audiobooks and two have advanced to the semi finals in an Amazon-sponsored fiction contest where out of 10,000, 400 advanced. I’ve gotten positive reviews from Kirkus, and a few other publications.

These are facts that I am proud of. I share these from time to time on social media, although I am still not comfortable with talking about myself.

But, now my friends don’t buy my books. Maybe one or two, not even my “Facebook friends” who were on board at the beginning. The last book published is my favorite. I’m so happy with it and proud of it. I literally tried to give away copies to people I know. I didn’t have a single taker.

I would promote the book being free on Kindle during a particular day or weekend, or whatever, and not a single person would respond to it. I tried to give away Audible audiobooks. Not a single taker.

It’s so bizarre.

Why?

I could understand if the books were garbage. There are a lot of genuinely bad books out there, especially since self publishing has gotten so popular and easy to do. But my books aren’t those books.

I started a small publishing services company, just as a side job to help people out. People who were lost like me when I first started.

My friends didn’t care.

Granted, it’s not very exciting, and with the emergence of “multi-level marketing,” starting a business isn’t that impressive, apparently. (Remind me to tell you about this amazing magical wrap thing! Kidding.)

One thing I forgot to mention earlier, is that I went without Facebook for about a year and a half. I hated it. I hated the fakeness of it. And I was bitter. Bitter that I was trying to better my life, to branch out from a dead end job and try to make something of myself, and I never got any good feedback from it.

My son is severely autistic, he’s ten now and still completely non-verbal. We don’t have a typical life. We have to adapt to whatever life throws at us, and that’s what I was trying to do. My son hated when I had to go to work. He didn’t understand why I had to leave, often in the middle of the night. So I tried to change things.

And still I got nothing. So, bye bye Facebook. Good riddance.

It was weird at first. I still had this urge to let everyone know what I was doing. Like, them knowing would someone validate me doing it. If your Facebook friends don’t know what you do, are you really even doing it?

While I’m typing this, my Facebook is back. But there is a reason. Over the summer, while I was doodling on my iPad, I had an idea. I could put these things on tshirts. I would totally wear them.

So I looked it into. I saw that the possibilities were seemingly endless. Why stop at tshirts when you can make leggings? Why stop at leggings when you can make backpacks?

It goes on like this.

So I went all in. And I mean, ALL IN!

I had quit my job at the supermarket a few months prior. I had enough money to survive for a while while I explored new paths. So I sunk everything into this little venture. I was going to make horror related clothes. The horror market is severely underused. There are, of course, some major players in the horror game, but they all had to start at the bottom, too. So I went for it. I made a website. I made an Instagram and a Facebook. And after a week of the site being up, I made a sale. And then another sale.

Turning a profit is tricky, though. I needed word of mouth. I needed friends.

So I got back on my personal Facebook page after a year and a half, and let everyone know what I had been up to while I was gone.

It landed with a thud.

Nobody cared.

In the time I was gone I had a kid’s book, and novel, and this clothing company all launch.

I got nothing.

I started booking comic cons and would post pictures.

Nothing.

I have a little booth downtown, with all my stuff displayed, where you can walk in, buy something, and help support me and my family, by buying small, staying local.

I’ve had one friend visit it.

One.

It’s been there for six months.

I posted a few pictures of horror-celebrities wearing or showing off something I created.

Nothing.

I drew posters for a few events, movie screenings, even a stage play. I posted them. The most recent one I posted got 6 likes.

I have 590 Facebook friends and 6 of them liked a poster I did for a Scream 2 screening.

I have a family member whose daughter wanted “something Michael Myers” for Christmas. I have tons of Myers stuff. Stuff I poured my heart and soul into. Stuff you can’t find anywhere else.

This person did not buy from me. She bought a generic Myers t-shirt from a major store and probably spent more than she would have with me.

Right now, through luck and hopefully hard work, my work is in the processing of being officially licensed. Which means, with a little more work and a whole lot more hustle, it could end up in stores like Hot Topic, etc.

And then what?

I don’t know. I like to daydream. And I would like someone to be proud of it, someone who doesn’t live with me.

But, there comes a time when you have to let that go. Your friends won’t be proud of you. They will belittle you. They will find something to nitpick about what you’re doing.

And it sucks.

Strangers will support you. Your friends will not.

The sooner you know this, the better. You can delete your personal Facebook, you can shrug your shoulders at all the people holding you back and making you feel bad about leaving your comfort zone and taking a risk.

There is no law that you must remain friends with the people you were once friends with. Cut em loose.

This is about you. It’s about your dreams. Your life. Not theirs.

If they don’t want to follow you on your journey or cheer you on, cut them loose. Release that anchor from around your neck and push full-speed ahead.

You’ll be amazed at what you can accomplish when you stop worrying about what so-called friends think and start realizing that no matter what you do, there will be someone who admires you and looks up to you, just as you’ve looked up to someone else when you started your self-fulfilling journey.

Be the person you would want to look up to.

You can do it.

Start today.

Two months ago I had to attend a wedding where all of these people would be, all these “friends.”

All I heard were complaints. Whoever we struck up a conversation with, complained.

Complain complain complain.

I understood what was wrong.

We didn’t complain. My wife and I, we only told positive stories.

Our complaining days are over. We’ve moved on. We seemed out the positives from our lives and choose to focus on that.

All this did was draw out more complaining from the wedding guests.

So tone deaf and these people we’ve left behind, they were complaining about students (the teachers we knew) that are very similar to our son.

Like, really?! This is our life. You go home at 3. We live with this. And we still don’t complain.

So far back these people are, I had to hear outdated and cringeworthy jokes, I had to hear casual sexual harassment, breasts referred to as fun bags, in front of the girl they were talking to, and the groom’s nieces. They still use the R word to describe anything, despite knowing my son is extreme special needs.

Once you realize that you don’t want to live in the world these people still inhabit, the sooner you can progress to where you want to be.

You’ll never be happier leaving them, and their outdated thinking, and their complaints, and everything else that makes you miserable to hear about, behind.

And you can do it.

You can do it right now!

Log out of Facebook and get to work.

Find people to look up to and follow them. Do your own thing. People will begin to follow you.

I’m not saying it will be easy. I’m just giving you a heads up of what’s to come.

You can sidestep it completely.

You just need to realize that your friends want you to fail.

Prove them wrong.

Don’t even tell them.

Start now.

Go.

[theauthor99]

The Stand In

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader Summary: Reader is an assistant on the newest Spider-Man movie. Due to complications, they are asked to stand in on the blocking of a kissing scene with Tom Holland. Notes: This is officially my first pairing fan fiction. If you guys like it I’d be more than happy to do a part two and some other cute scenarios I've been thinking about. Also sorry this is long and has no gif per usual. I'm not to Tumblr savvy and can't figure out how to do that stuff. Word count: 2,052 “We need a stand in for the next scene!” One of the directors practically shouts in your ear, panting from the run from the main set to the copy room. You remove the last of the script changes from the copy machine and place them into your binder, looking at the breathless man before you. “What? Why? What scene are you doing? Where is is the actual stand in?” You say in a rush. You had been an assistant on the newest Spider-Man movie for only a few months. You'd mostly been doing little things: copying papers, printing schedules, organizing costumes, and cleaning trailers. Even though you hadn't been doing much, you still knew the basic ins and outs of the production, including that there were actual stand ins for actors if the directors needed them for lighting shots or blocking. “She’s not here today. We said we didn't need her. But Zendaya is stuck in traffic and we need someone to block this shot. You're the least busy woman in the block.” The director says in a rush, taking your binder from you. “It will only take a few minutes. We just need to run scene eleven of the second half of the movie.” “Scene eleven!” You squeak, shocked they were blocking the scene so soon. According to her schedule, they had planned on starting with a major fight scene. Scene eleven, that was the long awaited kiss scene between MJ and Peter Parker. You were actually very proud of yourself for that scene. You had been the one to suggest what MJ should say right before the kiss to Zendaya herself while bringing her some props. And now one of the directors was asking you to be a stand in for that scene, a scene you knew would only be you and Tom Holland. Tom Holland. Just thinking about him summons a light blush to your cheeks. You’ve had a major crush on him ever since Civil War came out. Seeing him on set had been a dream come true. You’d even gotten to speak with him a few times. Watching his big brown eyes light up as he laughed at a stupid joke you told woke the butterflies that were always in your stomach when you were near him. Of course you never made a move. Like Tom Holland could ever fall for an assistant on his movie. Still...you couldn't help but daydream about his cheeky smile, his wavy brown hair, his adorable accent. Everything about him made your heart beat faster. “Ms. L/N,” the director snaps his fingers in front of your face. You had started to daydream. “Please we must hurry. We want to block this scene before the stunt doubles get here and work with Tom on the big fight scene.” That snaps you out of it. You nod quickly and start following the antsy director through the block to the set. The scene was to take place in an empty classroom at the school. It was a tender moment between MJ and Peter before Peter had to rush off and save the day again. You never thought you’d get to see it filmed, let alone be in a blocking of the scene. As you round the last corner you see him. Tom wasn't even in costume, just a black tank top and jeans. In fact it looked like they were prepping the suit over to the side as he was reading the script again. Wow they really were in a hurry to block this scene. As you approach Tom you start to get nervous. Your hair was back in a messy ponytail. Your jeans were splattered with old paint stains and you had a hole in the back of your shirt. You quickly take your hair down and run your fingers through the soft strands, trying to make them look at least a little decent. As you try to fix yourself up a bit, Tom looks up from his script and sees you. The soft smile he flashes your way makes your heart thud in your chest. “Hey Y/N,” he says in that cute British accent of his. You hope you're not blushing but you can already feel the heat on your cheeks. “Are you gonna be Zendaya’s stand in for the scene?” You manage a shy nod, trying hard not to get lost in those warm brown eyes. The director sits down next to the two others working today and called for the dummy cameras. Prop managers rush on and start rearranging desks and books and anything else that made the set look like an actual classroom. Makeup artists rush forward and cut between you and Tom, fixing up his make up for some test lighting. Someone takes a hold of your arm and leads you to the front of the classroom, where the scene was to take place. You were told to leans against the desk and look as cocky as possible. They asked if you needed cue cards to get through the scene. You shake your head sheepishly. You’d memorized the entire script the second you had the chance to read it. You knew every line by heart. The woman positioning you shrugs and and walks off as Tom moves to his spot, directly in front of you. You could feel your face growing red again and you struggle to keep the cocky grin on place. Tom smiles encouragingly, offering you a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Don't worry about the acting part. It's just blocking. Honestly I'm glad I get to kiss a pretty girl for the test run and not a tennis ball,” he jokes quietly as the directors set up. Now you couldn't help but blush furiously. Tom thought you were pretty! Before you can respond with a clever comment you had been saving for a moment like this, the lights switch on and you're blinded. You blink rapidly to get rid of the dots and get use to the brightness. As soon as you're able to see by squinting the director yells action and the blocking begins. At first all you can do is stand there, stunned, as Tom reads his lines to you, the shift from a British to an American accent making you blush. That had always been your favorite part of the interviews you watched. Tom would be telling a story and switch from his normal accent to an American one in a heartbeat. You never knew why but it made you swoon. You snap out of your daze just in time, as it's MJ’s turn to speak. You read off her lines perfectly, even able to add a little bit of her blunt character to it. Tom smiles at you before launching into his next set of lines, stepping closer. You rise from the desk to meet him, now mere inches away. Your heart pounds in your ears as you look up at you, no where near as tall as Zendaya. As Tom finished his lines you smirk, knowing this line better than any others. “If you're going to stand this close to me Parker, you might as well kiss me,” the line flows smoothly from your lips as you look up at Tom, a newfound confidence in your eyes. He blushes and reaches up to gently cup your cheek in his hand, a shy, truly Peter Parker smile on his face. Your heart skips a beat as his other hand presses into your back, pulling you closer. Your breath hitches as his lips meet yours. They taste sweet and fruity. You're so stunned you almost don't kiss back, still not quite able to believe Tom Holland was actually kissing you. Warmth spread through your body as you finally relax and kiss him back, one hand reaching up to tangle into his soft brown curls, while the other presses against his chest. You can feel his heart beating through the thin fabric of his tank top. Is it just your imagination or is his heart beating faster than normal? Did he feel the same surge of electricity racing through him as you did, right now? “Cut! Great job everyone, that looked perfect. We’ll try it for real tomorrow,” all too soon it was over. Tom’s lips slowly left yours yet he stays close, his hand still on your back. You look up at him, wide eyed and breathless from the best kiss you’ve ever had. Tom smiles down at you, looking a bit breathless himself. It takes your foggy brain a full minute to realize you're still pressed against him and the set people were changing scenes. You flush red and pull away from him, pushing your hair behind your ear. “I-I hope I was better than a tennis ball,” you manage, very aware of how out of breath you sound. Tom chuckles and gently takes your hand in his, leading you off the set so the green screen could be wheeled in. “That was much better than a tennis ball,” he says softly, setting his finger under your chin and lifting your face up. You had no choice but to look into his eyes, trying not to sigh out loud. “You're a really good kisser!” You blurt out, immediately flushing red. Oh how you wish your mind didn't turn to mush around Tom. You wouldn't embarrass yourself nearly as much. “S-Sorry. Y-You probably hear that all time time. Besides it was really unprofessional.” “No no it's ok,” Tom laughs softly, taking a step closer to you. “You're actually a pretty good kisser yourself.” You freeze, a fresh blush taking over your face. Surely he was just being nice. He didn't actually enjoy the kiss did he? You step away quickly, running a hand through your hair. You had never felt more conflicted in your life. Here you were, making a fool of yourself in front of the man you might just be falling in love with, while he proceeds to tell you you're a good kisser. Your mind couldn't take it. “Y/N?” Tom’s soft voice drew you from your pity party. You glance up at him, then do a double take. He looks...upset? But why? He shifts and rubs the back of his neck, suddenly finding his shoes very interesting. “I'm so sorry. I'm probably making you feel wildly uncomfortable. I-I was going to see if you wanted to come to my trailer for lunch...but you probably...wouldn't want to...now. Sorry.” “Of course I want to!” You blurt yet again, your head shooting up from your own shoe gazing. “Really?” Tom looks up at you, a wide grin taking over his face. The butterflies in your stomach go crazy at the sight of that wide smile, directed right at you. For a second you're speechless. You can't quite believe that you were the cause of that adorable grin. Or that you were just asked out, if not on a date then at least to hang out, by Tom Holland himself. You manage a shy smile and nod. “Y-Yea. I’d love to,” you respond quietly, bashfulness quickly taking place of embarrassment. Tom runs a hand through his hair, almost bouncing on his feet. You giggle softly at how cute he looks, all excited and happy. “Ok great! I-I have to go get into the suit. Takes forever you know. But I’ll meet you at my trailer as soon as I get a lunch break.” Before you can say anything else he bends down and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. You gasp and touch your fingers to the spot he had just kissed as you watch the adorable actor run off. “Y-Yea. Ok. I-I’ll see you later,” a warm blush covers your face as you watch him go, leaving you daydreaming about the lunch date you can't wait to have.

[ancientchinesesolutions]

Payton Milton’s “beginning” .

Allow me to begin - from what I would call - the beginning... It was September of 2012, I had just turned 18 the month before. One day upon waking up, I remember looking around my room - seeing that everything remained (physically) the same - "This is definitely my room...", I thought "But something is NOT the same." but even to this day, I could not explain to you for sure why that was. I sat there for a while before thinking hysterically before I left my bedroom, hoping that my mother who I lived with at the time, wouldn't look me in the eyes and I remember thinking this thought, and thinking "WHAT THE F*** IS WRONG WITH ME. Why am I afraid to look my mom in the eyes?" and the answer to the question hit me like a ton of bricks "Because I know she can feel my thoughts... & I don't want her to know." This answer did not leave me feeling well. Fast forward a few months - I had quit smoking weed, started working out every day, & researching brain health, taking supplements such as ginkgo biloba, and attempting to meditate (I say attempting because I would usually just wind up putting myself to sleep). All to no avail, my anxiety was constant, and much worse around people. The only people I felt comfortable around anymore were people who could easily take me out if I did anything wrong. It was as if I had this constant nagging in my brain, telling me I was a threat to everyone around me, it was seemingly inescapable. I spent a few years living my life like this... It was quite the excruciating existence & I wasn’t sure it would ever end. I remember at one point, I was working in the back of a pizza shop, sincerely missing the feeling of boredom, wondering if I would ever be able to find a wife to have kids with in the state of mind I couldn't seem to alleviate, or escape. I was determined to live my life - I was not brave enough to commit suicide is what I would tell myself, and so, this wreckage of what was once a proud young man, continued on. It was not long after this that I reconnected with a friend of mine who shared the same experience as me, her name was Sarah. She had just began dating a Qi Gong teacher, and she wanted to introduce me to him. So she picked me up from that same pizza shop, and we went over to his place. She had asked him to guide us through a Qi Gong form, and he did. I thought it was pretty cool, I didn't really think to much of it in the beginning. Over the next couple months we all spent at least one day a week hanging out, and he had guided us through the same form 3 times - thats when I decided to stop being guided and start learning. So I observed him as carefully as possible, asked him questions about the different moves involved in the form, and was able to remember the entire form on my own. That is when I began my individual practice. At the time I was training myself in Muay Thai drills using YouTube, I spent about an hour per day doing this - but the Qi Gong form I had learned from Mark, my teacher, seemed to be what I wanted to do instead. So every other day I replaced my Martial Arts practice with this Qi Gong form for just less than two weeks I was practicing Qi Gong every other day for about an hour. One day - I had a vision about half way through my Qi Gong form - my first, full waking vision ever... I was flying over mountains, through clouds on the back of a giant Black - Gold trimmed Chinese Dragon, who appeared to be swimming through the Sky. He spoke to me without words and in essence, this is what he said "I am sorry for taking so long to get to you, but you must understand how small you truly are compared to the bigger things I must tend to, I had to wait until you were in between my larger callings, and here you are... & if you want to help me... This is how you can do it." I was filled to the brim with purpose for life in that moment. The thing he wanted me to do was spread the Art of Qi Gong. My anxiety was lifted, & I haven't struggled with it since. When it would rear its head at me, I would find it laughable - and I would begin my Qi Gong breathing. This was during the Late Spring/Early Summer of 2015, my 21st birthday was right around the corner. Over the next few months I had begun developing my Qi Gong practice into nothing short of a miracle - it seems I have the best luck when it comes to stumbling across amazingly authentic lineages in my Arts & Practices. I started seeing things like energy sparks, which made me feel with absolutely no doubt I knew what they meant, their origin, and was able to confidently respond to them. These newfound perceptions baffled & amazed me - how do you tell people you can see energy? & that meditating with specific movements & intentions in a certain order brought these new awarenesses to light? Well the short answer is - you can't. Not if you want people to take you seriously and not treat you like a loon! It was around this time I got a girlfriend, and not long after that my younger brother came down with the same anxiety that I had experienced. I was excited - because I had already found the cure. All he had to do was listen to me... I did not foresee what happened in the coming month as a possibility. Long story short I did not treat my brother with the amount of kindness that he required to be drawn into the only solution I was able to find in those long 3 years of anxiety. He ended up attempting to take his own life and failing once, but if there was something that anybody who knew my brother well should know about him. It's that He was determined, and He always got what He set out to get. September 7th, Labor Day, 2015 - He had an episode & stole my dads car. Driving straight off a 3-way intersection onto HWY 9 in Snohomish, WA at about 120 MPH he hit a tree, and got stuck as the car burned up. Ending his life... He had spent the last couple weeks of his life making amends with people he felt he ought to. His values shifted dramatically, from being an entrepreneur to wanting to heal people. I was so excited to spend our future pursuing the same path, pushing each other to be greater through brotherly competition. You could say what I miss most about my brother is the future we never had. This happening brought me great despair - which I have transformed into another reason to spread the Ancient Chinese Healing Art that brought back my ability to feel at peace. I was to start college later that September. To save you some time it was short lived, and I did not return for the second quarter. Traditional school was never really my strong suit. I needed something I was truly interested in to shine, & I never really found that within the school system. So I began searching for residential/live-in Martial Arts schools. You would be surprised at how very few of these you can actually find, I found none within the United States when I originally searched (for hours upon hours & multiple days). I eventually found Nam Yang retreat in Thailand. It was a Kung Fu retreat, they trained full-time - 35 Hours of training a week were scheduled. Included in their tuition was room & board, breakfast & dinner, but what really drew me in was their reputation for practicing Qi Gong (They spell it Chi Kung, but it really is the same thing).  Master Iain Armstrong performs various Qi demonstrations, including washing his face with broken glass, slapping a chain lit on fire, being kicked in the groin, and even bending swords & spears with the soft spot on his neck! This was just amazing to me, and the decision practically made itself. I signed up for their teacher training program as soon as I could get the funds together. I flew out and arrived Nov. 1st, 2017 to begin my training. I had never really been in an official teaching position before my time spent training with Master Iain, and I wouldn't find this out until earlier this year (2019), but man am I glad that he was the first man to teach me how to teach. His teaching methods are refined to a point of genius. Everything from day one compiles with perfect synchronicity well into the 4th month, and by that time, I had become my own best teacher. That is not to say I have nothing more to learn from him. What it means is that I understood the concepts that make up the Tiger-Crane Art to the point where I knew that developing myself further required constant contradictions, & variations in my training. There was never "nothing" that needed improvement. To improve one aspect you must, at times, break another. Just to come back and re-develop the broken aspect until both, contradicting motions, were able to be performed simultaneously, coinciding with perfect order & execution. In order to expand, you must contract, in order to push more effectively, you must practice how to pull better. The list of contradictions is practically endless, and they are all true! One of the most amazing things I had the pleasure of learning & experiencing was the synchronicities I discovered between Qi Gong & Kung Fu. The Horse riding stance, taught to us allowed the torso to expand even larger than embryonic breathing by itself does, and I have always been a big believer in the little differences. Everything has a point where it must reach in order to achieve its purpose, and without reaching that point, the miracle of Qi Gong & Kung Fu will not be realized. By the time I left Nam Yang, I earned my Instructor's certificate, granting me permission to teach the Tong Ling Chi Kung, Shuang Yang, & Tiger-Crane Kung Fu under the Nam Yang name. That was back in July of 2018, & perhaps the biggest accomplishment thus far in my life. Upon returning to the US of A, I began to establish a student base. This proved to be phenomenally difficult! Over the span of a year I managed to teach about six Qi Gong students, and one in both Kung Fu & Qi Gong. I struggled to charge my students, as I was having a difficult time putting a price upon these Ancient Chinese Arts that I sincerely believe transcend monetary value. (How do you put a price on effectively treating severe anxiety?) I also struggled with justifying the cost of a studio's upkeep, and as a result, hymned and hawed as I attempted to get more students interested in my services, usually just in an effort to spread the word about me. I was making no money, traveling to and from my students (who were usually over an hour away), you could say that in a way I was paying to teach. I needed a change! I wanted a reset, a change of pace. I wanted to leave society behind and disappear into the mountains for some isolated training - after all, I could easily spend 35 hours a week training without the stresses of today's world upon me. There was just one hang up... I was not confident in my ability to take care of myself, and I couldn't justify the lack of nutrition that would come without knowing how to properly forage, and hunt or fish. Thats when I began researching how to survive in the wilderness, & I came across Joshua Hamlin's & Rob Allen's survival YouTube Channel. I paid a visit to their website, and saw them offering a 45-day Wilderness Survival Instructor Course, in which they claimed to be able to teach you how to confidently survive in the wilderness - with just a knife. That was exactly what I needed in order to disappear into the mountains with confidence. It didn't take long before I convinced myself to sign up. I was absolutely thrilled to add survival to my teaching arsenal. I thought, “What if I could teach people how to confidently train themselves to become competent Martial Artists & awaken/improve their awareness by practicing Qi Gong & Meditation in the Wilderness...?” My vision had transformed! I had developed a passion for teaching, and I couldn't imagine anything more awesome than being able to teach people everything they'd need to know to confidently isolate in the wilderness, and train - not only their body, but their mind, to become the most effective instrument of being possible! Prior to attending the 45-day Wilderness Survival Instructor Course at Sigma 3 Survival School, I had no idea how great of a teacher Master Iain had truly crafted me to be. My standards of expectation were very high considering the price that I paid... To my dismay, it seemed the Instructor program was designed to weed out the weak, ensuring that only the best will filter through & earn their Instructor's certificate. A sound plan really. It is survival after all.In the beginning I abhorred this approach, and was extremely upset about it - but I refused to be defeated so easily. In addition to building shelters, fire making, procuring water, and foraging for sustenance or creating medical supplies with, we learned other various crafts necessary to sustain yourself inevitably with more ease in the wilderness, like making baskets & cordage... But the two most important lessons I learned were these; 1) How truly great my standard is for teaching my own students, and the value that it holds. 2) If you want something, and you have the means to create a functional version that fills that void - it is better to fill that void with something barely functional, than to put it off thinking that a perfect/ideal version is the only thing worth your time & effort.

[im-youngmin]

[TRANS] 170727 10Asia's Interview with MXM (Donghyun)

10. I heard that you enjoy the acoustic genre. Your company, Brand New Music, is a hip-hop label, so how did you end up joining?

Donghyun: I enjoyed listening to San E and Hanhae seniors’ music and respected them. And at that time, my vocal teacher had a tie with Brand New Music, so I ended up auditioning. At first, I thought ‘Would this fit with my style?’. But after hearing what Rhymer CEO said, I thought ‘I’m someone who fits with Brand New Music’. He told me ‘Hip-hop is something that company, Brand New Music, does. You can just do the music that you have been doing. I respect your style and am here to just develop your skills.’ With that one phrase, I gained belief.

10. Are there company seniors that are cheering you on?

Donghyun: Whenever Kanto senior sees me at the practice studio, he tells me, ‘I’m watching you well’, ‘You need to work harder’, and although it feels like it’s something he says lightly, I can feel his sincerity. I gained strength from it. The company’s senior artists sincerely care about the trainees too, so I’m thankful.

10. When did you start dreaming of becoming a singer?

Donghyun: In my 3rd year of middle school, I was part of a band in school as a club. We stood on stage during festivals and while practicing as a band, I naturally formed the dream of becoming a singer. I officially thought ‘Let’s do this’ in my 1st year of high school.

10. Were there any oppositions in your family?

Donghyun: There isn’t any who pursued arts in my family. Maybe that’s why, but they opposed strongly at first. However, since their son continuously said he wanted to do it, my parents’ hearts weakened. With a good opportunity, I was able to join an entertainment for a bit during my 1st year of high school. Ever since then, my parents supported me too.

10. Do you remember what you sang during your audition for Brand New Music?

Donghyun: I sang it on ‘Produce 101’ Season 2 as well, but I sang Jang Beomjun senior’s ‘Between Hongdae and Geondae’ along with Maroon 5’s ‘Sunday Morning’. I remember the person reviewing at the time was very fascinated. Something like ‘How could he sing something like this?’, I felt a very good fascination. (Laughter)

10. You’re 20 years old this year, but I heard you had a fantasy about university life?

Donghyun: I hear about campus stories from my twin brother. (Laughter) He told me that he would befriend upperclassmen and get along with his peers from all locations, and that he’s experiencing a lot of fun things. But I also experienced quite a meaningful experience through ‘Produce 101’ Season 2 too! (Youngmin: With trainees from even more locations) (Everyone laughs) That’s true. I’m thankful that I was able to beginning my 20’s so fruitfully.

10. Since it was a survival program, you were probably burdened or anxious. Did trainees from your company give you strength?

Donghyun: I relied a lot on Youngmin hyung. Especially when learning the choreography? When we were learning the ‘나야 나 (Pick Me)’ choreography, we were in the same B class. Since it wasn’t the dance style I normally did, it was very hard. So I kept clinging on Hyung who dances well and asked him to teach me. Hyung probably had a hard time too, but he taught it to me till the middle of the night. I was so thankful.

10. During the position evaluation, you chose the rap position song, ‘Boys and Girls’. Aren’t vocals your main position?

Donghyun: I drew out a big picture. (Everyone laughs) At first, I wanted to choose ‘Playing With Fire’. But with Dongho hyung as the last, the team for ‘Playing With Fire’ was full. I felt like my world was crashing down. (Laughter) From then, I thought that I should be smart about this. Although ‘Boys and Girls’ is a rap song, there are many vocal parts. I thought I could show various sides through vocals and rap. I drew a big picture and went, but Youngmin hyung was in that team. (Laughter) Even the PD-nims on-scene asked us ‘You guys planned this out, right?’, but we really didn’t. (Laughter)

10. The performance you remember the most?

Donghyun: It would have to be our concept evaluation song, ‘I Know You Know’. I remember having a hard time while preparing for other stages, but I have more fun memories from ‘I Know You Know’. I felt that the concept suited me well too and I was able to happily prepare the performance.

10. I saw that you wanted to be the leader at that team?

Donghyun: During the member voting, I lacked in one vote, so I wasn’t able to. (Laughter) Hyunbin hyung did well as the leader. I took the role of helping Hyung from the back. After the performance was finished, I felt that Hyunbin hyung received good results as a leader, so I was quite proud. (Laughter)

10. You were regrettably unable to make it to the final competition. You watched the live broadcast on the scene, but how did you feel?

Donghyun: Youngmin hyung, Woojin, and Daehwi all stood on the final stage. Prior to the stage beginning, I told them at the waiting room, ‘You guys all worked hard and went through a lot, so it’s okay even if you don’t make it into WANNA ONE. Don’t feel burdened’, but I realized that I was actually thinking that they had to make it no matter what. Every time each of their faces were captured on screen, my heart started to beat. (Laughter)

10. A phrase that gives you strength?

Donghyun: Although I’m working hard and know that I have to work even harder in the future, there are times I feel tired since I am human after all. At those moments, I gain strength whenever fans would tell me, ‘You’re doing well as is right now’. When I heard ‘Don’t try to do too well, you just need to do the amount you like and the amount that you can do’, it was something very obvious, but gave me strength. (Laughter)

original post: tenasia translation credits: @woojinprk

[artificialqueens]

Contact Epilogue (Trixya) - Stella

A/N: So normally I would just use this as a summary for the work, but I feel like I should explain a few things here instead. I know I promised a few more chapters, but I truly feel like this fic has reached it’s natural end. People don’t seem as interested, and it’s been way more work than it’s worth to write. After talking it over with some people (thank you Köhler for helping), it just feels right to end Contact here. It’s been an amazing five months, and I hope you guys will be just as enthusiastic about the other fics I have in the works as you all were about this one. If you have any questions please feel free to message me at @artificialstella!

Secrets were the hardest thing for Trixie to keep from Katya. She shared everything with the other woman, from the smallest mundane parts of her day to things she’s never told anyone before. Katya was just so easy to talk to that filtering herself felt like an impossible task. But sometimes secrets were necessary. Especially when it was keeping Katya from figuring out that there was a giant surprise party waiting for her back at their apartment.

“I want to look at it again babe, show me,” Trixie pleaded. Katya beamed, and held out her sleek folder to Trixie. Inside, Katya’s freshly printed Certificate of Naturalization was tucked in the pocket, a physical sign of her U.S. Citizenship. The feeling of pride towards her girlfriend had been making Trixie emotional all day, but every reminder that Katya had achieved her dream had a fresh round of tears springing in her eyes. She closed the folder and pulled the two of them to a stop so she could envelop Katya in a tight hug.

“God, I’m so proud of you,” she mumbled, pressing a kiss to Katya’s cheek. Katya laughed, probably for the millionth time that day. They were both in such high spirits, it was impossible for them to keep cool.

“I could not have done it without you maylsh,” Katya countered. “Now let us go, we are getting in the way of everyone else on the sidewalk.”

Trixie took Katya’s hand in hers again and they continued to walk back to their apartment complex. The closer they got, the more nervous Trixie got. She knew Katya would like the surprise she had planned for her no matter what, but she still wanted to make her happy. It was a huge day for Katya, probably the biggest in her life. Trixie wanted to prove to her that she had people who cared about her and wanted to celebrate her success with her.

“We should go to that restaurant on fifteenth street for dinner,” Katya suggested as they walked down the hall. Trixie hummed non-committedly, knowing full well that they weren’t going to need to go out for dinner. There was plenty of food waiting for them on the other side of the apartment door. Trixie held her breath as she inserted the key into the door and pushed it open.

“Congratulations Katya!” Everyone that was crammed into their small apartment cheered loudly, waving their little American flags. The entire living room was decorated with as much red, white and blue that Trixie could find at the party store. Even the guests were dressed in theme. Katya’s face was priceless as she gaped at the scene before her in shock. Slowly she turned to Trixie.

“Did you do this all for me?” She asked carefully. Trixie laughed and pulled her girlfriend in for a kiss.

“It’s a big day Kat, you deserve it,” Trixie replied. Katya pressed another kiss to her lips before turning to her party.

Trixie had made sure to invite everyone they were close to, and then some. Greg and his fiance Shannon were in the corner chatting with a few other couples from their building. There were a few of Katya’s old co-workers from the office clumped together, and thankfully her pervy old boss was nowhere in sight. The biggest group of people seemed to be those from Katya’s new job. Katya seemed to thrive as a yoga instructor, the fact that she had power over herself and got to wear all the pattern-problem clothes that she wanted to giving her the confidence she never had as a secretary. Plus, the women in her class adored her. Katya’s eccentric personality and thick accent always drew in a crowd to her classes. Of course Trixie had to invite her most faithful customers to cheer on their yogi. It was those women that immediately pulled Katya in, gushing over her cute business suit. Trixie smiled as she watched Katya interact with people. It’s been a long road to get to this point, and the relief was clear on Katya’s face. She looked so young, so full of life with her little flag pin gleaming on her blazer.

“You look like a lovesick idiot,” Pearl teased as she slipped next to Trixie. She handed her a cup filled with some sort of punch, probably made by Pearl herself for the party. Hopefully Katya would know to stay away from it tonight. But, seeing as Trixie wasn’t abstaining from alcohol she tapped her solo cup against Pearl’s and took a sip.

“Probably because I am one,” Trixie countered, her eyes still trained on her girlfriend.

“How was the ceremony?” Pearl asked.

“It was cute, everyone was so happy. It’s the first time I think I’ve ever seen an immigration officer smile,” Trixie explained.

“I feel like she’s been in this country forever, I can’t believe she’s just now become an official citizen,” Pearl continued. Trixie hummed in agreement. Pearl didn’t even know the half of what it took for Katya to get that little piece of paper. Hours of them staying up together, pouring over books and online tests. Hours of interviews, trying to find any little fault in Katya. It was a grueling process that took a lot out of both of them. That’s why this party was so important, it was their first sigh of relief in almost a year.

“So now that she’s an American are you gonna pop the big question?” Trixie nearly choked on her drink at Pearl’s words.

“Jesus, subtle much?” Trixie grumbled.

“You’re my best friend Trix, I just want to know what’s going on in your life,” Pearl said, feigning innocence.

“If you must know, we’ve talked about this and decided marriage wasn’t really for us,” Trixie explained. After Gregory, Katya wasn’t too in love with the concept. Marriage was just the legal word for two people who think they’re going to have happily ever after and want to write it off on their taxes. But neither of them wanted children, and they didn’t need a piece of paper to prove they were going to last. Marriage meant complacency, and forced expectations. Neither of which Trixie and Katya wanted for themselves.

“God, you two really are the modern couple,” Pearl groaned. “I’m gonna go hit on Katya’s hot yoga students. We should make athletic leggings mandatory uniform.”

Pearl pushed off the wall and made her way over to the gaggle of athletic young women in the center of the room. Left alone once again, Trixie decided to find her way over to their table where a feast’s worth of appetizers and finger foods were set up. She started loading up her plate with mini quiches and veggies, avoiding anything that looked like it had meat in it. Her day had been so busy that she hadn’t had the chance to eat a proper meal. As Trixie reached over to grab some cheese and crackers she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist.

“Did you finally escape your students?” Trixie teased, leaning back into Katya. The older woman giggled and pressed her lips against Trixie’s neck.

“They are distracted by a certain predatory lesbian who is complimenting them all on their sports bras,” Katya hummed.

“Damn, I didn’t know Rosie O’Donnell would actually accept my invitation. I’ll have to go tell her how much I love her show later,” Trixie shot back with a grin. Katya snorted and dropped her head to Trixie’s shoulder.

“The only gay woman you are allowed to pay attention to today is me,” Katya pouted.

“Right, I’m sorry. Getting up at five in the morning to go with you to your interview, then your ceremony, all while planning a surprise party for you isn’t enough attention. I’m a terrible girlfriend, you should break up with me immediately,” Trixie sighed dramatically.

“I should, but I really like the water pressure in this apartment so I guess I will stay with you,” Katya mused.

“Using me for my water pressure, I knew it.” Trixie turned around in Katya’s arms and pecked her lips. “Do you like your party baby?”

“Of course! I will admit, I did not see it coming. You hid this from me very well,” Katya replied. “I do not know what we are going to do with all of these little flags, though. As an American citizen I would be offended if we just threw them out, you know.”

“We’ll make people take them home as souvenirs, I promise,” Trixie assured. Katya seemed pleased by her response.

“Good. I am going to go say hi to Ginger, I just wanted to check up on you,” Katya explained before disappearing back into the crowd. Trixie shook her head fondly and popped a carrot stick into her mouth. She was a lovesick fool, but she wouldn’t want it any other way.

The party lasted for hours, and Trixie was both physically and emotionally exhausted by the time the final guests trickled out of the room. Their cozy apartment was littered with plastic cups, paper plates, and decorations that had fallen to the floor throughout the night. Trixie knew it was going to be a monumental task cleaning up, but that was a problem for tomorrow’s Trixie. For now, all she wanted to do was crawl into her bed in a comfortable pair of pajamas and sleep until noon. Katya looked ready to pass out as well. All the excitement from the day was catching up to her, and it looked like she could barely stand on her own.

“C’mon Miss America, let’s get you to bed,” Trixie teased, wrapping her arm around Katya’s waist. Together they moved into the bedroom and changed out of their clothes in comfortable silence. Trixie was almost sure that Katya was going to pass out as soon as her head hit the pillow, but as the climbed under the covers, Katya brushed her fingers along Trixie’s cheek.

“I love you,” she murmured, her voice soft and eyes sincere.

“I love you too Kat,” Trixie replied easily. Katya’s hand moved to card through Trixie’s hair.

“You remember when we first got together? The night at the club?” Katya asked. When Trixie nodded, she continued. “I still mean what I said, you are always going to be the most important thing to me. Today would have meant nothing if it did not mean I get to spend my life with you.”

Trixie could feel a lump forming in her throat. Today had been too emotional, and now Katya’s admission on top of it was making it hard to keep from turning into a giant sap.

“I’d marry the fuck out of you,” Trixie whispered. A small smile twitched on Katya’s lips.

“I know maylsh, maybe one day. For now, this is all I need.” She cupped Trixie’s face and leaned forward to brush their lips softly together.

There was nothing more that had to be said to end such a perfect day. No declarations of love or continued sappy words needed to fill the empty space in the room. The only thing necessary was for the pair to do but fall asleep with the knowledge of their newfound freedom heavy in their minds.