#Thor does give off that loyal likes hair scratches look

[worstloki]

Everyone’s all happy to go ‘Thor’s like a puppy!!’ and ‘LabraTHOR!!!’ until you ask who's holding his leash and writing his little name tag and taking him for daily walks. You gotta lean into the personification and think it through!!! He sure isn’t a stray!!!!

#I’m not disagreeing I’m just saying it works IF you do this #is it Odin? is it Jane? Loki? this is crucial to the characterisation #golden fur giant excited puppy is fine it’s not BAD or UNSUITABLE as far as the animal comparisons go #Thor does give off that loyal likes hair scratches look #fur coat ​soaked wet in the rain would work for him as a look #I’m still asking about the domestication #this is VITAL characterisation #CRUCIAL even

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The hand that feeds

Warnings: noncon sex (fingering, oral, intercourse).

This is dark!Loki and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader has served the royal family for years, but her newest master may be too demanding.

Note: Hey yo! If you wanna leave some feedback, a like, or even reblog, that would be chill. I just decided on a little Loki love today so I hope y'all enjoy!

No one thought the kingdom would stay the same in the wake of Odin’s death. No longer shrouded by the old king’s obstinacy or iron grip. But none had expected an absentee heir. The former prince had not been seen since his coronation. His golden hair topped with a crown even brighter.

It was rumoured he had gone to Midgard to win over the woman he loved. Others suggested he was off getting into his usual trouble. Many expected more of him now that he had inherited the throne, though not so many were truly surprised. Asgard’s ruling family had never been known for their integrity.

The only who seemed to benefit from his absence was the one who often suffered in his presence. Loki was left at the head of the council to sort out the daily duties and attend to whatever trouble rose in the realm. While his brother was away, he could play out his dreams of being king. Though, should Thor be away long enough, he might just stop playing at it.

Even now, Loki sat in front of the throne, forbidden by right to perch upon it. He was a placeholder, nothing more. You watched from your vigil at his shoulder. You had not stood there since the old king ruled. Several months since then. It felt like a lifetime.

Odin’s death marked the end of your tenure. First, you’d attended his wife but upon her demise, he kept you on. A reminder of his beloved. A loyal servant who nearly died in her defence gifted with preference for years of service. And it had all so easily dissolved upon the new king’s ascent. 

Until that day. 

As you prepared to tend to your new duties in the kitchen, Helga stopped you and took the kettle from your hands. Her square jaw was a sharp as ever as she gave her orders. She handed off the brass vessel to another and stared you down.

“Seems you have been called back to your former bearing,” She said. “The prince has need of a cup bearer this morning as he hears the people’s grievances. And judging by the crowd, he will be in sore need of wine.”

You set the large goblet and pitcher on a tray and set off for your duty. You did not miss it. Standing endlessly as you listened to the complaints of farmers and lords alike. The king’s, or in this case, the prince’s diplomatic, at times terse, response. 

Loki signalled you with two fingers when he was in need of a sip, more often a gulp. He didn’t look at you as you offered the cup or as he placed it back on your tray. Several times you had to angle yourself to catch the goblet. As the morning turned to afternoon, your feet ached. You’d quickly forgotten the toll of the task. Your hips, your knees, your arms from balancing the tray. You hid it all behind a servant’s mask.

At last, the day’s session came to an end. Loki stood and the servants and audience bowed as he did. Even as you dipped your head, you didn’t miss the glimmer of satisfaction in his emerald eyes. And he didn’t miss your glance. He squinted as he caught your errant gaze. You lowered your lashes and righted yourself.

He neared, his cape brushed along the toes of your slippers as he passed. “With me,” He said under his breath, “I should like some fresh wine.”

“Your highness,” You followed him through the door behind the throne.

“I’ll be in my solar.” He said curtly. “Bring enough for Lord Bjarke, as well.”

“Yes, your highness.” You replied.

He turned down the hall and left you to scurry away. His cloak flapped noisily around his long strides and seemed to echo around you as you turned the corner. You quickly rinsed his goblet and grabbed another. You went to the cellar and found a bottle of the Northern red. It was his favourite, you recalled from the nights he attended supper with Odin.

You were quick to arrive at his solar. You knocked and he called from within. You entered with the customary bow and he gestured to his desk. Lord Bjarke scratched his thick black beard as you set down the tray and poured their drinks. He seized his almost at once as Loki barely noticed your presence. You backed away courteously and neared the door.

“Stay,” He didn’t look at you, merely pointed to the corner to the right of him. “We may need more wine.”

“Oh we may,” Lord Bjarke guffawed as droplets glistened in his grey-streaked beard. “Maybe some ale.”

“Well, let’s attend to important matters before you get too deep in your cups,” Loki warned as he spread out a parchment and leaned over it. “Despite your rank, my lord, you cannot so openly infringe upon the royal forest.”

“Infringe, my prince, I was granted land for my service to your father.” Bjarke argued.

“You were but I have that grant right here,” Loki took another paper, “It does not include my family’s hunting grounds.”

He slid the deed across to Bjarke and reached for his goblet. He sniffed before he sipped. A slight curve of his lips as he set the cup aside. For a moment, his eyes strayed in your direction but he quickly corrected himself.

“No animals venture along that border. They are too meek for that.” Bjarke scoffed. “I see little issue in me expanding my crops.”

“I do. I’m sure my brother would too. And despite my father’s favour for you, if he were still alive, he’d very much have an issue with this.” Loki hissed. “And I suspect you know that, hence why you’ve waited until his death to trespass.”

“Trespass? No...I--” Bjarke stuttered.

“Yes,” Loki insisted. “So, I will give you two options, and let me warn you, my lord, I am not in the habit of lenience but I should allow you this one oversight. So, you can cease your trespass on royal land and we can drop the matter altogether or you can carry on and pay the crown eighty percent of your harvest for use of our land.” Loki smirked. “Oh, and of course a fine for the crime itself.”

“I--I think you forget yourself, my prince, you might be head of council but it does not make you king. As I recall, your brother wears the crown.” Bjarke snarled.

“And he has left his duty to me. I am his voice now and my will is his. So, you make your choice. Be gracious for the wealth you’ve already acquired, or insist on your greed and lose it. If it were a rainy day, I should make the choice for you.”

Bjarke grumbled and drained his cup. “I shall relent, my prince.” He stood and slammed down the goblet.

“Let’s not forget ourselves, my lord, I could have made this same offer in front of the people. Could’ve declared your crimes to the kingdom itself. Though, it wouldn’t have been much of an offer then.” Loki warned.

“Yes, your highness,” Bjarke swallowed his anger and bowed. You watched the man, named for the bear he resembled, stomp out of the chamber. His heavy boots could be heard as they faded on the other side of the door.

You stared at the carved wood. Parchment rustled along the desk as Loki resumed his work. His ring softly clinked against the goblet and you looked over as he leaned back in his chair. He stretched his legs out beneath the desk and hooked one over the other as he reclined lazily.

“You’re a clever one.” He mused as he glanced over at you.

“Your highness?” You wondered.

“The wine. Northern. You remember.” He grinned. “My own father never recalled, but you do.”

“With respect, your highness, your mother always made certain to have it stocked for you.” You replied. 

He nodded and took another drink. “My mother…” He repeated. “I heard a tale about you.”

“A tale?” You raised a brow.

“This kingdom is full of rumours, it is hard to know which to believe.” He finished the cup and set it down. He motioned for you to refill it. As you stepped forward, he watched you. “It is said you tried to save my mother.”

“I failed, your highness.” You set down the pitcher. “She was much braver than me.”

“My father liked you, too,” He carried on. “I recall that. Very fond of you, indeed.”

You tilted your head but said nothing.

“But my brother sent you back to the kitchens.” He shook his head. “Very unfortunate.”

“I am a servant. I go where I am bid.” You replied evenly.

“Loyal to a fault,” He remarked. “You are better than the kitchens.” He took another sip and swirled the wine in the cup, watching the small tidal he created within. “I am in need of a chambermaid.” 

He held your eyes as he drank. You stood in patient silence. A servant’s duty.

“So, you go where you are bid. I bid you in my chamber.” His eyes flared and he chuckled. “Pardon my poor wording.”

“Your highness.” You bowed and he focused on you. Trying to see past your facade.

“Well then, best be off to your new duties.” He said. “You will attend my supper as well. Tonight is a feast and I expect more of this.” He doffed his cup. 

With your dismissal, you left and hurried down the corridors. Helga would be unhappy with your re-assignment but you wouldn’t have to deal with her much.

-

You fell into your duties easily. They were familiar; second-nature. The only difference was Loki. He wasn’t much in his chambers; mostly his solar or the great hall. Yet, you were almost always in his presence. He kept you close, to refill his goblet or fetch him some other fancy.

You tidied his chambers, attended his plate, and saw to the order of his solar. Thor remained gone and Loki remained as he was. Overworked and overjoyed. He basked in his temporary power, at times, you thought, a bit too much. At other times, you saw his mother in him. He was pensive, often quiet, but his menace set him apart.

You could see it in his eyes. He read other people; measured them and how he could use them. You could tell he was still trying to do so with you. You caught him staring at you at times. Others, he’d speak to you as he had that first day. Never happy with your answers, always pushing for more. It was harmless; it was Loki. You’d seen him do the same to his own blood. His little games.

The day had been tense. Loki met with Odin’s old master of war, Lord Eadric. The grizzled veteran was unhappy with the new king’s absence. Unhappy with the prince’s work. He shared Odin’s distrust for the dark-haired son. Their meeting turned to raised voices and spilled wine.

You stood in the corner as Eadric stormed from the room. The door shook in its frame. The old man was stronger than he looked. Loki gripped the edge of his desk as he sat. Wine dripped down the wood and his angry breaths filled the silence. 

You righted the pitcher that had been overturned and took the cloth from your apron pocket. You wiped the desk and bent to clean the floor. You mopped up the mess and sensed his gaze on you. You looked up as Loki watched you. His features had softened and he no longer looked so angry. You turned back to your work and stood as you finished up.

“Thank you,” He said quietly as he rubbed his forehead. “I think I will take my supper alone. In my chamber.”

“Your highness.” It was an order. Most of his words were. 

You bowed and left him, the wet cloth in hand. The door closed behind you and was followed by the sound of metal on stone. He had thrown the goblet. You retreated quickly away from his solar and sought out the kitchens. You were not eager to return to the agitated prince.

You tossed the cloth in the hamper meant for dish towels and grabbed a tray from the stack. You loaded up a platter and placed a lid over it. You stopped by the cellars for a bottle of Northern red and carried on to the prince’s chambers. He often ate in his solar or at the feast table with the court. It was best he keep to himself after such a display.

You set down the tray as you entered and lit the lanterns one at a time. His receiving chamber was large but cozy. A black bear skin before the hearth, a velvet chaise atop it. You carried the tray to the round table and set the wine beside it. You knelt to stoke the fireplace before you tended to the chamber.

It was already tidy. Your work was truly minimal. Loki didn’t leave much of a mess. You knew, however, if you left, he would be unhappy. You had done so one night on the presumption that your duties were finished and he had reprimanded you for it the next day. And the day after. He made sure you learned your lessons well.

You waited by the wall. You stood patiently as they time passed slowly and cursed your fortune. Among servants, your position was an envied one but it was just as tedious as any other. 

When the door opened, you were ready to close your eyes and attempt to doze upright. Loki swept in and you greeted him with a bow.

“Wine,” He demanded as he pulled his chair out and sat heavily.

You neared the table and poured the wine steadily. You corked the bottle and set it back down. He took it swiftly and drank deeply. It was half-empty when he drew it away from his lips. You remained close, ready for his next order. 

He licked his lips and looked up at you. His green as twinkled as if he only just recalled your presence. He considered you as his brows twitched.

“Sit,” He waved to the chair in front of you. You looked down at it but didn’t move. He waited and repeated himself tersely. You pulled the chair out and sat lightly. His mother had let you sit with her but never Odin, or any other. He put the cup down and slid it over to you. “Have a drink.”

“Your highness,” You protested. “It is against palace rules for servants to indulge.”

“I said drink,” He commanded. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell your marm.”

You blinked and grabbed the goblet by the stem. You looked into the dark depths of the wine. You sipped from the golden rim daintily and placed it back on the table. He scoffed and shook his head.

“Finish it,” He said. 

You resisted a frown and took the cup once more. You brought it to your lips and he pushed the bottom of it up as you drank. You drained it and coughed as he finally let you pull it away. He took the goblet as you wiped your mouth with your sleeve and he chuckled.

“Are you hungry?” He asked as he removed the lid from the platter. 

“No.” You answered, your throat still seared from the alcohol. “Thank you.”

“Very well,” He accepted and speared a carrot with his fork. “Heimdall says Thor should return shortly. Who knows how long he’ll remain though.”

You nodded and kept quiet. He looked up from his plate and watched you as he chewed. He swallowed and smirked.

“Don’t you ever get bored of it? Watching others eat and drink and whine? Cleaning up after them?” He asked.

“That’s my duty, your highness.” You replied flatly. “As you have yours.”

He nodded and took another bite. He ate as you saw the thoughts bounce across his face. His jaw tensed and the vein stuck out on his forehead. He finished and replaced the lid on the platter. He refilled his own cup and drank from it deeply.

“You may clean this up,” He motioned to the dishes. “And fetch another bottle and a cup for yourself.”

You rose without argument. He wasn’t of the mood for it, not that he ever was. You gathered the platter and cutlery on the tray and swept from the room. You grabbed a second bottle of red and another goblet and headed back. You dreaded your return. 

When you entered, Loki was stood by the hearth. His hand was on the mantle as he stared into the flames. You set down your wares and waited for him to speak. He barely seemed to notice your presence. His fingers tapped on the stone ledge and he turned suddenly.

“Remove my cloak for me.” He commanded.

You neared and he stood still for you. You unclasped the green cape from each shoulder as he watched your hands. You draped it over your arm and left him to hang it on its hook along the wall. You heard the chair scrape on the floor as he sat again and you turned back.

“Another drink,” He insisted.

You went to the table and poured him a cup. He pushed the other up for you to fill. He took his goblet and pointed to the other chair. You sat and he handed you the second cup. He clinked his against yours and took a gulp. You mimicked him, the wine bitter on your tongue.

“I’d think servants would be more in need of a drink than nobles,” He commented. “I don’t know how you bear us.”

“Barely,” You returned without thinking. You clasped your lips shut and set down your cup.

He chuckled and drank some more. “You are...amusing, dear.” He emptied his goblet and placed it on the table. “I see why my mother liked you.”

He stood and stretched his arms as he stepped away. He yawned and paced the perimeter of the room. You made to rise and he stopped you with a raised hand.

“Ah. Finish your wine.” He ordered. “Then you may assist me in retiring for the night.”

You looked over at him as he continued to stride along the room. He watched you and smirked. He nodded for you drink and you lifted the cup. You took large gulps, each swallow easier than the last. You held in a belch and set aside the goblet. Your cheeks were warm and your head felt fuzzy.

Loki came up just behind you and leaned over you to check your cup. He touched your shoulder and backed away. “Very well, then. I should like a bath drawn.”

“Your highness,” You stood a bit too quick and grabbed the table. 

You righted yourself and turned to pass him as he stood by the door to the bedroom. You swept into the bath chamber and worked the pump until it began to spew hot water. You stepped back and turned as Loki entered behind you. His eyes followed your movement and he began to undo the clasps along the chest of his jacket.

“Towel,” He said. “You shall attend to my bath this evening.”

You bowed your head, the words caught in your throat. You went to the bedchamber and grabbed a towel from the closet. You returned to the bath chamber and blanched. You almost stumbled as Loki’s pale ass greeted you. He stood in the large round tub, naked, and lowered himself with a groan against the side of the basin.

You hung the towel on the rod and kept your eyes on the floor as you turned. You folded your hands in front of you and listened to the water splash down. You could hear him moving around and you bit down on your tongue. A female servant attending a male noble in his bath was unseemly. Helga would say it was forbidden.

“You may turn the water off.” Loki declared.

You refused to look at him as you neared the large tub; big enough for six of him. You bent and twisted the faucet and straightened up. The steam dampened the front of your apron and you smoothed it out as you resumed your stance. You blinked as you tried to clear the fog from your head.

You could feel his eyes on you. The way he always watched you. You could not tell if it was spite or intrigue. Likely the former. You raised your eyes to his and he stared back. His arms were stretched over the rim of the basin as the steam rose up around him. 

“I hear the servants bathe in the river. Is that true?” He asked.

“We do,” You assured him. 

“Hmmm, I always thought to sneak down and see for myself…” He grinned. “Perhaps you’d be there?”

The heat spread from your cheeks and down your neck. Your chest filled with fire as you held his gaze; speechless. He chuckled to himself and it hung in the air. His eyes fell from yours.

“Join me.” He said.

“Your highness?” You glanced at the door.

“Get that grimy apron off and join me,” He repeated. 

Your mouth fell open. You clutched your hands together and gaped at him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. 

“I won’t tell you a third time.” He warned. 

It took a moment to find your strength. You pondered the door again. If you ran, would he come after you? Even if he didn’t, you were certain he’d have you not only out of his service, but out of the palace. You swallowed and reached back to untie your apron. Your fingers were clumsy as they tugged on the knots.

You lifted the apron over your head and sling it over the counter. You knelt to remove your sandals and kept your eyes on the tile. You unbuckled your belt and your plain gown fell loose. You placed the braided leather on your apron and slowly lifted the fabric along your legs. 

The more skin you bared, the more you trembled. When you bathed in the river, there were dozens around. But there had never been any princes. As you freed yourself from the gown, you looked up to find Loki’s eyes set on you. Your thigh-length shift did little to conceal your curves. You folded the dress up with the rest of your clothes.

“Go on,” He breathed.

You tensed and grabbed the hem of your shift. His gaze didn’t waver as you pulled it up and you braced yourself as you bared yourself to him entirely. You tossed the shift a top your dress and neared the tub.

You lifted your leg over the large circular basin and stepped inside. You tried not to look at Loki as you lowered yourself against the stone. You hugged your knees to your chest and hugged them shyly. The water shifted as he moved and you tried not to flinch.

He came up beside you, his arm behind you as his hand settled on your wrist. He gripped it firmly but did not pull. He leaned into you and his hot breath added to the steam. 

“Now, now, I know you’re not daft.” He purred and slowly moved your hand. Your legs fell and left you prone.

You bit your lip as he guided your hand further down. He pressed your palm to his cock and you winced. He pushed your fingers closed around him and you turned your face away from him. 

“Don’t let go.” He demanded. He removed his hand and grabbed your chin. He made you look at him as you clung to his cock. “Move your hand, dear. Up….” You slowly glided your hand along his length and he exhaled deeply, “Down...again. Oh yes.”

You kept the motion as he hugged you closer. His hand slipped from your chin and crawled along your throat. He cupped you breast and then the other. He played with them, fondled them, and tweaked your nipples before he bent to take one in his mouth. 

You pushed yourself against the marble desperately and let go of him. He growled against your flesh and grabbed your hand. He replaced it on his cock and nipped you. You whimpered and stroked him again. 

His hand went to your thighs and kneaded the flesh. His fingers dipped between them and you wriggled against him. He raised his head with a sneer. He leaned close and spoke in your ear. “Be a good servant and tend to your prince.” It was a threat. Serve your prince or serve no other. 

“Your highness,” Your voice was thin; scared.

He dragged his fingers along your folds and around your clit. He his lips to your temple as he breathed into your hair. He caressed you as your hand continued to play with him. His touch grew firmer, quicker, and stoked a new heat. You shuddered and closed your eyes. A dark laugh escaped his lips as he felt your body surrender.

His fingers slipped down and he pressed his palm to your clit. His fingers circled your entrance and slowly dipped inside. You gasp as he pushed deeper, curving to find your special place. You quivered as he moved his hand slowly. The friction along your bud added to the sensation.

You could barely keep your own hand moving as he played with you. He pulled back and his other hand stretched along your neck. He worked his fingers harder, faster, and the water rippled around you. Your breath hitched and you struggled to catch it as your core began to bloom. 

It swelled and swelled until you came suddenly, a pathetic mewl escaped your lips. In your rapture, your hand had still but gripped Loki tightly. He rocked his hips and pulled his fingers out. He brushed your hand away from his cock and stood. 

He moved in front of you and grabbed the back of your head. He forced you onto your knees and dragged you closer. You brought your hands up to push against his thighs but he was much too strong. Your arms shook as you struggled with him. Half-drunk and still awash in the afterglow. You were weak, senseless.

“Open up, dear,” He grabbed your chin with his other hand. “Don’t you know the punishment for a disobedient servant?”

Your eyes rounded. The thought of the leather strap flashed through your mind. You opened your mouth and he pushed inside. Your hands slipped down as he sank to the back of your throat. He went deeper until you gagged, and only allowed you a moment to steady yourself. 

He pulled you back and thrust back in just as quickly. He held you in place as he fucked your face and you splashed helplessly in the water. His grunts mixed with your gags and the stir of the water around you. He plunged down your throat and stopped. He shuddered and removed himself in a single motion.

He let go and you fell back, barely keeping your head from hitting the marble. You gasped and choked as you reached around you blindly and turned to crawl out of the tub. He caught your hips as you were halfway out. He pushed you against the marble so that you were bent over the edge and slapped your ass. You yelped and he did it again.

“Not so fast,” He taunted as his nails dug into your hip and his other pinched your ass. “My ever loyal servant, you know better than to leave before you are dismissed.”

His cock poked your ass and he guided it down. You squirmed and he held you against the tub as he rubbed along your entrance. You reached out for the floor, so far away. There was nothing else to latch onto. He pushed himself along your folds and spread your juices along the tip of his cock.

He aligned himself and delved into you. You swung out behind you and tried to push him away. He ignored your fingertips as they poked his hip. He bottomed out and you exclaimed. He was too much. Too big. It hurt and yet as he pulled back, your walls quaked. Delighted by the feel of him inside you.

He grabbed your arms as you struggled and pulled you back by your elbows. With your hips still against the basin, he thrust into you. Your back arched painfully as he restrained you and his wet flesh clapped against yours. You whined and whimpered with each plunge. The pain mingled with pleasure as your head spun in shock and confusion.

“Please,” You begged. “Please…”

“It is forbidden for a servant to lay with a noble.” He snarled as he fucked you harder and harder. His fingers grew tighter around your arms. “But, should anyone…find out…” He spoke between grunts, “Who do you think will suffer?” He growled and let go of your arms. 

You held yourself up against the tub and he rutted into you. His hand snaked around to play with your tit as his other hand squeezed your ass. 

“Not me. Fuck.” He panted as sped up. You hung your head and tried to fight the rapture as it rose within you. “Gods, you’re tight.”

You shook as you came. You bit down on your lip to keep from crying out. But he knew. He could see the ripple along your spine and the tremble in your thighs. He slammed into you harder and moved his hands to your hips. He clung to you as his thrusts turned spasmodic and his voice rose in a snarl.

He pulled out of you and spilled his seed down your thigh. He rubbed his cock along your skin to spread his cum and smacked your ass again. He backed away and your arms collapsed. You slid down into the water; breathless against the marble as you looked up at him in a haze.

“It won’t be so bad, my pet,” He bent and caressed your cheek, “A favoured servant earns certain favours.”

#loki #dark!loki #fic #loki x reader #dark!loki x reader #dark loki #dark loki x reader #dark!fic #dark fic #thor #mcu #marvel #au #darkverse #dark!verse

[lemonsandstrawberries]

The Pitted Olive, part 10 - final

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony)

universe: Drag Queen!AU (Tony Stark as a drag queen)

summary: Steve gets the courage to ask Tony a very important question, all in a style worthy of his drag queen! Sam takes a new step in his life, friends gather and someone special makes an appearance.

length: 6 845 words

disclaimer: this fic is written strictly for entertainment. I am not a specialist on drag and my whole knowledge comes from mainstream media. if there is something you will find incorrect or offensive in any way, there is always an option to contact me and politely voice your thoughts instead of flaming. thanks!

a/n: that’s is it, the big finale! thank you, Ru Paul’s Drag Race for inspiration and introducing some wonderful drag queens into our lives! (some drag queens will make a guest appearance in this chapter, so be on a lookout - also, more a/n notes at the end of the chapter). thank you for reading, your support and love for this fic! if you enjoyed the series and last chapter, asks, reblogs and likes are appreciated and needed!

——————–

The Pitted Olive, part 10 - final

(part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9)

It felt nice. Warm and soothing. Smelled like lemons and sugar. Really, really nice.

It was all a trap.

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Steve grunted, curling on the stool in the bathroom, only in his boxers. There was more warmth on his back and he felt the scrape of a wooden spatula on his skin, smearing the sticky substance.

"Hmmm. I am very convincing," Tony hummed from behind Steve, clad in his obscenely short bathrobe and only that. Oh, how Steve loved that bathrobe.

"I am gonna cry. I know I will," Steve grew more and more nervous, pressed his palm over his eyes, and curled more in himself. "And stop that."

"Stop what?" Tony asked innocently, pressing the long stripe of material to Steve's back and smoothing over the sticky substance. Oh God, it almost started.

"Snickering at me," Steve complained, trying not to sound too pathetic. Judging by the giggle behind him, he obviously failed.

"You will be fine. If I can survive this, so can you."

Steve had serious doubts if he could survive back waxing. Or back sugaring, as Tony used his homemade sugar paste on him, claiming that it was more delicate than traditional wax and there was minimal risk of ripping off the outer skin layer. That didn't alarm Steve at all.

"You're gonna be so smooth after this," Tony hummed enticingly, still rubbing the stripe making sure it would catch as much hair as possible. "I won't be able to get my hands off of you," he said, leaning his warm weight over Steve's, the cool satin feeling pleasantly slippery and soothing on his skin.

Somehow from being too shy to pee in front of the other, their relationship developed to this. That was some progress.

"Okay, ready?"

That was a good question and meant so much more than Tony initially intended to. Steve felt more and more ready. There was no other person for him than Tony. No other tiny bathrobe he would be seeing for the rest of his life.

"I am gonna count to three. One, two, three!"

There was a ripping sound and Steve felt every hair pulled out from his skin. His mouth opened in a scream, eyes watered from the pain.

"SON OF A -!"

Tony whistled, examining the strap. "Woah, that came off nicely."

"Nicely?!" Steve squeaked out, the pain still prickling his nerve endings. It wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat. How Tony could do it to himself every month?

"Now we need to repeat it a few more times -"

"Nu-uh! I am out!" Steve protested, one time being enough. He darted off the stool, just to be firmly pushed down again.

"If you let me do it, you and Red Velvet will -" Tony leaned to him, whispering something into his ear, words that made Steve's blood immediately flow south of his body and culminate at one point. That was unfair.

"I hate you," Steve groaned, but obediently stayed on the stool. Call him weak.

"You know you love me," Tony said sounding too cheerful and spreading more of the sugar paste on Steve's broad back.

Steve knew. He really knew. And he wanted everyone else to know it too.

***

If Steve was still debating being ready to take that step with Tony, the ultimate reassurance came days later from a very unexpected place.

"You are the worst best friend, you know that?"

Steve blinked, seeing Tootsie, standing in front of his usual table in the Olive, full lips turned down in an upside-down u shape, eyes, framed with thick eyelashes and black eyeliner, shooting daggers at him. She wore her usual grungy style of clothing, torn flannel and tights, chunky earrings that were painful to even look at, and shorts so tiny and revealing as if Bucky wanted to make a statement that he was able to tuck perfectly, despite the origin of his drag name.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, not understanding what happened. He came into the bar just minutes ago and didn't have time to do anything yet, except maybe chatting to Thor at the front and sitting at his table.

"Why, why the hell you gave Red our childhood photos?!" Tootsie hissed, eyes narrowing even more.

Oooh. So that was the offense.

"I didn't, my mom did," Steve explained with a shrug, but Tootsie didn't even listen to him, just ranted away.

"Do you know what she is doing now? Do you? She kept showing those photos to everyone and going on and on how cute her drag daughter is. Do you have any idea what it does to my reputation?"

Steve just smiled, not seeing a connection why photos of a pair of kids in dungarees and with bruised faces could be so harmful.

"Red is just very proud of you," Steve kept smiling, easily picturing Tony going from one person to the other one, showing the photos to everyone who didn't manage to escape on time.

Tootsie waved him off. "I tried to steal them, but she made copies. She even stuck some on the mirror in her dressing room!"

"That's sweet," Steve said, laughing when Bucky cursed, which was a lot less sweet, but a whole lot more amusing. "I don't know why you are so upset about this."

"It's embarrassing, okay?" Tootsie hissed. Steve didn't know if she meant Red's overly motherly behavior or the fact that his friends and coworkers knew that kid Tootsie used to have a bowl cut, just like half of the kids back in those times.

Clearly, Tootsie waited for something, but Steve just shrugged again, really not seeing any problem.

"I will pour laxatives in your drink," Tootsie seethed.

Oh, low blow.

"You wouldn't," Steve narrowed his eyes back at his best friend.

"I would. You are just lucky I am not the one making drinks today."

Just to be sure, Steve glanced over at the bar, and saw Arrow behind it, skillfully mixing some cocktails. Next to her, was a new person, Steve had never seen before.

"I already put an order for your drink, because opposite to you, I am a good, loyal friend," Tootsie summed up their conversation.

Steve huffed in laughter. "Thanks, Buck," Steve said, the name coming out almost inaudible and more like a sigh to a nonskilled ear, but the lip movement was enough for Tootsie to decode the word. A little placated, she walked away, having to prepare for tonight's show.

"Here's your drink."

"Thank you," Steve smiled at the new girl as she put his drink on the table, and she smiled back at him, and Steve almost slid down from his seat in shock. He would recognize that teeth gap anywhere. "Oh my God, Sam?!" he shrilled out, trying to keep his voice low.

The girl jutted her left hip forward and shook her head full of curly hair. Sharp eyebrows, long eyelashes, big lips colored with an electric blue lipstick giving that special pop to the look and tight black dress made from lace. Not the most extravagant look Steve had seen on a drag queen, but there was something hypnotic about it.

"That's Parfait," the girl said, winking at Steve and walking away on black pumps with a sturdy heel, a model that was favored by people learning how to walk on high heels. Steve looked after Parfait, smiling to himself gleefully. It seemed that some changes were coming to the Mama's Little Bakery.

Sipping his drink, Steve listened to Tootsie, singing her rock songs and planning even more changes.

***

"Hey, Thor!"

"Hey, Steve," the blond bodyguard of the Pitted Olive smiled friendly at him. "Coming from the front today?"

"Um, not really, I just have some favor to ask," Steve smiled shyly, scratching the back of his head. "I will have some guests coming today, could you make sure they get to my usual table?"

Thor sent Steve a calculating look, not really keen on fulfilling the unusual request. After all, he was a bouncer and a bodyguard and it seemed more of a task for Arrow who had waitress duty today. Thor was ready to refuse, politely, of course, when Steve smiled broader, that bright, sunny smile that made him resemble a labrador puppy. And Thor liked labradors.

"Fine," reluctantly, Thor agreed. The things he did for regulars.

"Thanks!" Steve beamed more, "I have to set up some details now, I will send photos to your phone of who to expect."

Thor nodded. "Nice jacket, by the way."

Steve laughed nervously, feeling his cheeks heat up, unsure if it was a genuine compliment. "Thanks. I will see you later!" he waved goodbye to Thor and took his usual route to enter the club from the back.

Everything seemed to go well and Steve's heart was beating a cheerful melody. Even the expected, sour look Loki had sent him after he had entered the club, didn't bring him down. He stopped in front of Red's changing room, combing a hand through his hair, rehearsing in his mind what he wanted to say.

"Hey, nice jacket!" Arrow passed him and praised with an approving smile, on the way to her changing room. Steve smiled gratefully, feeling a lot more confident with having a drag queen's approval, especially one as much fashion-oriented as Arrow. He reached his hand to knock on the door to Red's changing room, feeling his heart in his throat.

He didn't let anyone on his plan and so far, everything was going good. The only person who knew what was about to happen was the owner of the Pitted Olive, an exceptionally somber-looking guy named Nick Fury, who, as Tony had told him, was once a very famous drag queen back in the day called Madam Wrath. A very fitting name.

Steve knocked on the door and entered after hearing Red inviting him in.

"Oh good, you're here!" Red called, turning around for a second, just to see who it was. Steve had walked on Tony in the middle of his transformation, he already had a face full of makeup, except the lipstick, hair hidden under the cap and was changing his clothes, already tucked in and in pantyhose and clearly struggling with a bra. It wasn't the most glamorous part of being a drag queen, but the view of Tony's shapely legs in sheen pantyhose caused Steve's heart to do a little flip. "Can you clasp my bra?" Tony asked, turning his back to Steve, holding the strap in each hand.

"Sure," Steve replied immediately, coming to the rescue. A moment later, the bra was on.

"Thanks," Red smiled, fixing the front of a lovely auburn color bra with lace on top. "It is a new bra, it doesn't want to listen to me - oh," she stopped talking when turned around and finally took a good look at Steve and his new style.

Maybe it wasn't the intention, but the first thing that came to Red's mind was that Prince Charming from "Cinderella" stood in front of her. Steve was wearing a shawl collar jacket, white shirt underneath and black slacks, and a black bowtie to match the whole look. It would be a very calm, classic set if it wasn't for the material the jacket was made of. Blue velvet. Shining and shimmering with a light blue undertone.

Red's blinked in shock, her big blue eyes framed in thick fake lashes and black eyeliner appearing even bigger before she smiled warmly at her boyfriend. "You look very handsome today," she said, approving the look, "is there some special occasion?" came a question and there was some flirting hint underneath.

A very special.

"Well, since you asked."

And then Steve got on one knee in front of her and took a black velvet jewelry box out of his pocket.

"Woah!" Red gasped, and her hands jumped up to her face in shock, a very Tony like gesture, before she toned it down and pressed one hand to her lips. "Steve, what's happening?" she asked, her hand sliding down, just a little to not obscure the words.

Steve just smiled gently, knowing all the words he wanted to say and guided by all the feelings he had felt since he saw Red Velvet for the first time and since his first non-date with Tony. Tony was someone truly special, changing his life and making it better, just by his presence. He helped find Steve the courage in places he didn't expect to ever be courageous, was understanding and kind, and just seemed to make Steve's world a brighter place. And when someone finds something so special, they should never let go of it.

So, he opened the box.

"From the moment I saw you, I felt like I was living in a dream. I was smitten by Red Velvet, some may call it an obsession," Steve said, laughing a bit and having Sam's face in his mind, "but it wasn't until I saw you, the real you, when I realized that reality can be better than dreams. I love and want all of you, and I hope you will take all of me too. So, Tony Stark and Red Velvet, will you marry me?"

Red's breath stopped when she saw the ring on the black insert. She looked back at Steve, eyes glistening with emotions, and said something Steve certainly didn't expect but found very fitting.

"I am glad I didn't get dressed yet, because, shit, I would have to change."

Then he heard a 'yes' and it was a good thing Red never did her lips makeup because it would get ruined anyway.

***

Sarah arrived about ten minutes earlier than Steve asked her to, firm in her belief that it was better to be a bit earlier and wait instead of being late and making someone wait for her, a view she successfully passed to her only son. That's why she expected Steve to already wait for her and she really wished he did, not understanding why her son asked her to come. Sarah looked from her phone to the brightly shining neon, unsure if Steve gave her the correct address. The name was the same, but the reality didn't match her expectations. The Pitted Olive in her head was a name suitable for an Italian restaurant and not for something that looked like a night cocktail bar. Besides, her son didn't drink a lot of alcohol and was more of a beer guy than a cocktail person, so why he invited her to a bar and sounded so urgent about it?

"Mrs. Rogers?"

"Yes?" Sarah turned in the direction of the voice, getting startled when met eye to eye with the muscled, grim looking bouncer. She had to raise some suspicion by lurking around the entrance to the bar, but then she realized that the bouncer knew her name. When the bouncer smiled, his face changed from intimidating to kinder one, showing that he had a gentle heart.

"I was asked to escort you to your table. Please come with me," the bouncer said, swiftly navigating through the crowd of customers gathering outside the Olive and Sarah followed.

Sarah followed the bouncer, feeling a little overwhelmed. The interior of the night bar was cozy, with nice, wooden furniture and subtly lit, giving a private, comfortable feeling.

"Please take a seat," the bouncer asked, moving the chair for her at the table in the front, near the stage Sarah just noticed. "If you allow me, I will take your coat."

"Uh, thank you, mister…?" Sarah asked, handing the bouncer her light coat and sitting down.

"Just Thor will be enough. I wish you a nice evening, ma'am," Thor smiled gallantly and went to resume his position in front of the club.

The temporary comfortable feeling was gone again and Sarah felt out of place once more. She had an open mind and was willing to accept many things, but didn't like to be lead astray. She was a patient woman, but enough was enough. Sarah opened her bag and reached for the phone when she noticed a familiar face near the bar and a smile immediately jumped on her lips. "Sam!" she called, waving to Steve's friend.

Sam, engrossed in a conversation with a pretty young girl behind the bar, turned around, blinking surprised when he saw Steve's mom. "Mrs. Rogers!" Sam called and waved back, turning to Tootsie to tell her a few words, before he took his beer and came closer. "Hello, Mrs. Rogers," he greeted her properly, leaning down so Sarah could smooch his cheek.

"It is good to see you, Sam," Sarah smiled, feeling at ease after meeting someone familiar. "How is your bakery doing?"

"Good, good," Sam smiled, taking a seat next to her and Sarah kept smiling, hearing that that deeply hidden tensed note that had always been in Sam's voice whenever he talked about his work was gone. Just like if something got unblocked in him. "Mrs. Rogers, what are you doing here?" Sam asked, not understanding.

"Steve asked me to come. He said he has something important to tell me - oh," she gasped, suddenly realizing where she was. "Oh, is this where Tony works?"

"Hello."

An unknown man and a woman approached the table, their arms hooked together.

"We are Red's friends, she told us to be here today," the woman said with a nice smile, waving to Tootsie behind the bar, the girl waving back at her. "I am Lady Mint," the woman said, gesturing to herself. She looked quite colorful, in a multicolored tie-dye kaftan, beautiful makeup and with a head full of platinum blond hair reaching her chin, teased and puffed out to perfection. "And this handsome man is James Rhodes," she introduced and the man smiled friendly.

"You can call me Rhodey," he said, nodding first to Sarah and reaching her hand to her, before shaking Sam's hand and Sam introduced himself, while Lady Mint sat next to Sarah on a chair that had been pulled out for her by Rhodey.

"And let me guess, you must be Steve's mom! I can tell because you both have that lovely face structure," Lady Mint said friendly and Sarah just couldn't take eyes off of the colorful and beautiful person next to her.

"Wow, you're so gorgeous," Sarah said, instead of the usual hello, and Mint smiled gratefully. "I am sorry I am staring, it is just the first time I am seeing a drag queen up close. Sorry! Is that something I shouldn't say?" she grimaced in panic and looked over at Sam, silently asking for help. Sam just smiled good-naturedly, because this was so like Steve's mom to be so honest and mindful at the same time.

"Don't worry, dear, if I didn't want people to look at me, I wouldn't dress the way I do," Mint said, fixing her hair and making it even puffier. It brought attention to her nails, long and painted with mint color nail polish with some crystals at the tips. "I met your son once at Red's apartment. You have a very charming son, Mrs. Rogers."

"Oh, thank you. You can call me Sarah by the way," Sarah said, smiling and addressing both Rhodey and Mint. "So, from where do you know Tony?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Tony and I started drag at the same time. The drag community was much smaller back then, all performers knew each other," Mint answered with a polite smile.

"I work with Tony, we have a business together," Rhodey said his story.

"Oh, you are a drag queen too?" Sarah beamed, more and more intrigued.

Rhodey laughed and shook his head. "No, ma'am. I meant Tony's day job, we own a few car workshops."

"But that's a pity, right?" Mint jumped in, grabbing Rhodey by the arm. "He would make such a pretty girl!"

The conversation continued, drinks were served (Grasshopper for Lady Mint, Whisky Sour for Rhodey, and Sarah got talked into ordering Barbara, which was a mix of vodka, cacao liquor, cream and milk, the sweet flavor overpowering vodka and making the whole drink smoother and subtle on the tongue, and a refill of beer for Sam) as the club was slowly filling up with steady customers and newcomers. Sam and Rhodey found a common language, discussing the details of Rhodey's work and all the prime brands he got to tinker with, while Sarah and Lady Mint were chatting it up, just discussing everything, when it was interrupted by dimming lights and limelight pointed at the small stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Loki's mellow voice announced through the speaker, "please welcome our first performer of the night, the sweetest cake in town, Miss Red Velvet."

The silver curtain was pushed open and Red Velvet walked on the stage in a round of applause and almost a collective gasp echoed through the audience. There was no doubt, that the woman on stage was Red Velvet, even if at first glance she didn't look like it. The dress she chose was simple in cut, long and draping over the floor, with subtly widening sleeves covering wrists and a jewel neckline, hiding collarbones, almost not showing any skin. It was tight, accentuating the perky butt and round hips and a lovely hourglass figure. The most surprising was the choice of the material - it wasn't red, but all gold and shimmering, a little bit crinkling and catching light from every angle. Red Velvet looked as if someone poured gold over her body and let the precious metal set, shaping a dress over her. Such rich dress didn't require any fancy hairstyle and her black hair was combed neatly to the back and forming a low bun. Red smiled, light falling on her radiant face and glossy, red lips.

"Is that Tony?" Sarah asked in a surprised whisper, leaning closer to Sam and clapping enthusiastically with everyone else. Impressed was not a big enough word. She saw some of Tony's drag looks earlier, but only in photos and seeing this beautiful woman live was a different experience.

Sam nodded, not understanding the change and glancing over at other drag queens in the bar, but everyone seemed puzzled as he was.

"Good evening," Red Velvet kept smiling and the applause dimmed. Red took the microphone in her hand and started walking on the stage, her dress swiping over the floor. "I know you all noticed something different about me today," she said in a playful tone, getting a small laugh from the audience. "But this is not the end of surprises. First, I want to tell you a story. Some time ago, I met this guy," some suggestive whistling from the audience and Red winked, "this very special guy. One of a kind, but I am sure you already know this story, a guy meets a guy, they fall in love, yada yada yada," she rushed her own monologue, wanting to get to the gist faster. "And everything is great. Wonderful. And then… it happens. Just like that," she snapped her fingers, building the tension. "So I sadly inform you all, that this is one of my last performances as Miss Red Velvet," she said in a sorry tone, nodding her head sympathetically and rising a disappointed whine from the audience. Before the sad mood could start for good, she shook the sleeve on her left arm, letting it slide down and putting it out for everyone to see. "Because very soon I am gonna be Mrs. Red Velvet, I am engaged, bitches!" she shouted with a big smile, a gold ring with a row of diamonds shining on her finger.

The outburst of happiness was overwhelming and certainly drawing out the harsh sound as if someone dropped a microphone down. Sarah pressed both hands to her face, hoping that it was all going in a direction she thought it was going, Sam stared and clapped almost mindlessly, while Rhodey blinked surprised, and Mint tried to get Tootsie's attention to ask what was going on, but Tootsie, together with Arrow, were absolutely going wild behind the bar, probably cheering the loudest.

"And now, I would like you all to meet him," Red said into the mike, trying to be louder than everybody, "you probably already seen him," she added in a playful jab, meaning Steve's almost stalking her, "but it is the first time you will really meet him, my personal Prince Charming, my future husband, Mr. Blue Velvet! Come on, hun!" she called, gesturing at the silver curtain.

Steve's appearance was met with more applause as he entered the stage in his blue velvet jacket, smiling insecurely, but clearly happy. After having a final confirmation, Sarah sobbed into her hands from happiness, and Rhodey, Mint, and Sam stood up, joining the cheering for the just engaged couple. Steve walked to Red and put an arm around his lady, and they kissed briefly, Red cupping Steve's face tenderly. Usually, Tony had to stand on his tiptoes or pull Steve down into a kiss, but thanks to high heels, Steve had to tilt his head up just a bit, Red slightly higher than him.

"Drinks are on me tonight!" Red called, raising her hand, adding to the applause and cheering. "Tootsie, hide the most expensive liquor," she added after a while to her drag daughter, of course speaking into the microphone in an exaggerated whisper for everyone to hear and laugh at, and Tootsie saluted at her drag mom.

It was as happy as it could be, and Steve and Red were getting lost in each other when the final person and a very late guest showed up.

"Excuse me, coming through, EXCUSE ME!"

A harsh voice cut through the cheer and Red almost fell off the stage in shock when another limelight fell on the newcomer. The club exploded with a new level of cheer when people realized who just entered the club. A black sequin dress, a big updo of red, curly hair with straight bangs and black hairband. Big eyelashes, big red lips, and dimples on each cheek.

"Is this the joint my daughter performs at?!" Bianca del Rio shouted in her microphone in her characteristic loud voice, everyone clapping at her and confirming. "Good, because all those bars smell the same to me," more laughter when Bianca displayed some of her typical sarcastic humor, "and where is my lovely - DEAR GOD, Red, is that you?!" she bellowed out, looking at the stage and at still shocked Red Velvet, "what happened to you?! You look TERRIBLE!" she added, meaning the lack of her trademark color.

Red Velvet seemed speechless, while the crowd laughed at the playful remark. Steve had to bump his shoulder with Red's, trying to break her out of the trance, and put the mic to her lips, urging her to speak.

"Em, uhm-" was all that came out of Red Velvet's mouth and Bianca put one hand on her hip and glowered in a very motherly fashion.

"Just like mom taught you. Is that a way to speak to your mother?!" Bianca yelled and the crowd laughed, enjoying this mother-daughter encounter.

"Uh, what are you doing here, man?" Red finally asked, sounding a lot more like Tony, than Red Velvet. Bianca del Rio was a busy woman, traveling and performing all around the globe since she won that show which name slipped Tony's mind.

Bianca shook her head in reprimand, but smiled in the end, her cheek dimples showing again. "Your lovely boyfriend invited me here! He can be a persistent one," she said, gesturing at Steve. Red whipped her head and stared at Steve in shock and he smiled sheepishly. Reaching Bianca wasn't easy, but he wanted all of Tony's friends to share this moment with him. "I guess he is not your boyfriend any longer though! So, just let me congratulate you both and I am just gonna sit quietly here and enjoy the show," she added, turning her voice down, pointing at the table where Sarah, Sam, Rhodey and Lady Mint were sitting at, Thor already putting another chair for her, between Sarah and Lady Mint. "Thank you, darling!" she smiled at Thor and turned to the people at the table. "Hi, I am Bianca del Rio," she reached her hand to greet everyone, "you must be Steve's mom?" she said looking at Sarah, who seemed stunned but pleased, not really understanding everything that was going around her, but delighted to be a part of it, "kids grow up so fast, right?" she sniffled exaggeratedly and sat down.

From there it went smoothly and Red Velvet performed a spontaneous singing duet with her fiancé before singing her usual repertoire, Arrow did a magic act out of her routine, Tootsie sang some heavy songs, and even Lady Mint and Bianca got talked into performing. Halfway the night, Sam had sneaked out to his bakery, and with Rhodey's help, rolled in trays of white sheet cakes, covered in vanilla buttercream and decorated with piped out roses and written congratulations to Red and Steve and everyone got a slice, wishing the newly engaged couple all the best.

It was a long, cheerful evening and one of a kind engagement party.

***

"Morning, Sam!"

"Hey," Sam smiled a toothy smile when Steve walked into Momma's Little Bakery. It was as pink and frilly as always, but Sam seemed much more relaxed, busing at the counter and stacking freshly made buns and cookies for the early customers, already in his white and pristine work clothes. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, thanks," Steve smiled back, breathing in the scent of fresh pastries. Yesterday was a great night. It still felt a little unreal to him, having a fiancé, but seeing the engagement ring on Tony's finger while he had leaned down to kiss his sleeping queen and went out to get some fresh bread for breakfast was a very real reminder. "Do you have any brioches today? I want to make French toasts for Tony's breakfast."

"Yeah, I had a feeling you might want one," Sam nodded, turning to the shelves and taking off a perfectly baked brioche, light and fluffy, gold and shiny, and put it in a paper bag. "I have fresh baguettes too, will pack you a one. Anything else?"

"Yeah," Steve smiled, leaning on the counter, with a bright grin. "Soooo... Blue lips, huh?"

Sam waved the baguette in warning at this friend but smiled back. It wasn't something he ever imagined himself doing, but overall it was a fun experience. Maybe Parfait would appear in the Pitted Olive from time to time. Steve enjoyed seeing Sam like that, more opened and relaxed, the previous tension gone. Getting in touch with his female side did a great thing for Sam.

"You should try it too by the way," Sam said, handing Steve a bag with bread, and not knowing when Sam had sneaked a small round loaf of sourdough inside. "Being in drag," Sam hinted when Steve didn't catch on.

"Aaah, I don't know," Steve said, awkwardly. He was happy for Sam, and anyone who found their calling in drag but wasn't sure if it was for him, even if Tony subtly tried to convince him to wear drag, even once. And well, he already wore high heels. And used facial masks. And waxed. Was that the next step? Just to see how it is to be 'on the other side'? "Maybe? But I am not getting married in a dress," Steve said quickly before anything could pop into his friend's mind.

Sam whistled. "Believe me, no one wants to see that, pal."

Steve laughed. "Hey, what's that-"

"Man, why it is so loud in here?!"

Steve heard a voice and stared when he saw Bucky, standing in the doorway leading to the backspace. Hair ruffled from sleep, some smudged makeup under his eyes, and a spare set of white clothes, shirt, and pants, Sam used while baking, all crumpled. Comparing to Sam's work look, Bucky looked like a total mess.

"Buck, what are you doing here?" Steve asked, watching Bucky yawning and snatching a fluffy bun from the display, hearing Sam's hiss to not touch the bread.

"Uh, your engagement party went on and on, and by the time it finished, I was too tired to get to my own place, so Sam allowed me to crash on the couch in his bakery," Bucky explained in a bread obscured hum.

"Wait, you didn't go home?" Steve turned to Sam, not understanding.

Sam shrugged, "I start baking at 5 am. There was no point."

"Oh man," Steve's voice dropped and he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling bad. Seemed that because of him, none of his friends got any decent rest, while he and Tony cuddled for the whole night, feeling blissful and in love. "Sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" Sam snorted, and Bucky would do the same if he wasn't devouring the bun in greedy bites. "It is not every day when your best friend gets engaged, it is all good."

"Hm," Steve smiled softly, grateful for that point of view. Sam always supported him. Bucky was back in the city. And he had Tony. Everything was turning out so good.

"Also, not gonna lie, I am letting this one slide, because I want to be the one to bake your wedding cake," Sam added.

Steve laughed and nodded, agreeing, not imagining anyone else in that role. Sam could do some amazing things and uniquely combine flavors. There was no one better for the job.

"Besides," Bucky swallowed the bun down, "someone had to help Sam get out of the dress anyway."

"Please, no details," Sam sighed, warning Bucky who grinned mischievously.

"Oh, I want to hear all the details," Steve leaned in with a cheerful smile. "But maybe later, I have to get back to Tony, but first I want to know - why Parfait?"

"Par-fè," Sam corrected, using French pronunciation, ignoring the way Bucky ostentatiously rolled his eyes, "because it has layers."

That was a reasonable explanation. Steve nodded, knowing that there was more to his friend than just the outer layer, of a seemingly tough guy who grew up in a problematic neighborhood. Sam loved to bake good, honest bread but also had a knack for decorating cupcakes and cookies making them look like something from a fairy tale land. It was a good name for him.

"Hah!" Bucky laughed, bringing attention to him. "You know what also has layers? Onions."

"At least I tucked in properly at my first attempt!" Sam defended his name choice while ridiculing the origin of Bucky's drag name. Tootsie Roll was a good name too.

"Yeah, because I showed you how!"

"Okay, you are in my bakery now, so you either stop being a smartass and I will let you have another roll, or you can get your stuff and go home, you have an evening show," Sam gave Bucky a choice.

Bucky opened his mouth to snark back, but zipped it, looking at all the freshly baked bread and rolls. Well, he would be a fool to get himself kicked out from bread heaven...

Steve laughed to himself, watching pleased looking Sam handing a hungry Bucky another roll, his friend biting right into the soft, baked goodness. Bucky wouldn't be Bucky if he didn't add something, and he kept muttering more things that had layers between the bites, including ogres and, for some unknown reason, witchers. They chatted for a bit longer and when first customers started to line up, Steve took his bag with bread and headed home, back to his fiancé, his steps as light as air.

***

When Steve walked back into the apartment, it was barely after 9 am. He knew that Tony liked to sleep in after his shows, and Steve was really surprised when he heard Tony's voice, high and excited, coming from the bedroom.

"Babe? You awake?" Steve asked, peeking into the bedroom, still holding the bag with bread in his hands.

"Oh, hi!" Tony, flat on his stomach and on the top of the covers, wearing nothing except his short, silk robe, lay in the middle of the bed, swinging feet in the air, his phone pressed to his ear. He turned to Steve briefly, smiling sweetly. "Yeah, my fiancé just walked in," he said, addressing the person on the other side of the line, "yhm. Latrice says hi!"

"Um, hi," Steve blinked, not knowing who Latrice was and why was calling Tony so early. Then he realized, that it probably was a stage name and Latrice was one of Red Velvet's sisters. Mr. Blue Velvet and Miss Red Velvet's, as they were dubbed in the Olive yesterday, engagement was no secret, photos from the event already going around on social media.

"It's been calling since you left," Tony laughed, pointing at his phone, confirming Steve's theory. Ah, phone calls with congratulations. The word spread quickly in the drag queen's world. That just gave Steve some time to make breakfast. He leaned down and quickly smooched Tony's, already puckered up lips, and walked out of the bedroom, still hearing Tony's voice.

"No, I didn't expect it! Yeah, a total surprise. What do you mean by about time?! Girl, you are older than I am and got married two years ago! By the way, my invitation still didn't arrive. I know, right? Damn post, always losing things..."

Steve took off his shoes and washed his hands, before preparing breakfast. Something simple and tasty, so he sliced some fruit and put on the platter, preparing the eggs and milk mixture for the French toasts. He sliced some thick pieces of the soft brioche, wanting it to soak nicely, but before that, he would have to call Tony over, so the brioche won't fall apart. Steve entered the bedroom, seeing Tony in the exact same position, still going on and on on the phone, not even noticing him.

"Yeah - eep," Tony made a high pitched sound, feeling fingers walking down his heel. Across the sole, and Tony had to bite a laugh down, and then fingers hooked around his ankle, dragging him on the bed. "Ah, Latrice, sorry, I gotta go, fiancé fever, you know how it is, stay fabulous, love you girl, byeeee!" Tony squeezed many words into the short moment, in which Steve pulled him close, surprising Tony with a long kiss.

"Mhm," Tony hummed contentedly, turning to better face Steve and wrapped hands around his, officially, fiancé's neck, pressing their bodies together. That short bathrobe and a ring on Tony's finger - it was everything Steve wanted to see for the rest of his life.

"Are you done talking?" Steve asked into the kiss.

"Only if you have some better proposition for me," Tony fluttered his eyelashes in a flirty move. As an encouragement, Steve kissed him again, long and sweet, letting the feeling linger.

"French toasts for breakfast?" Steve asked after the kiss ended, leaving Tony a bit breathless and starry-eyed.

"You read my mind," Tony giggled happily, letting Steve pull him up from the bed. It was high time for them both to spend some time together and a shared breakfast was a good start.

Until Tony's phone started to ring again.

"Oh," Tony looked at the screen and Steve did too, seeing a face in full makeup, the photo signed Manilla. "Can I...?" Tony asked, smiling shyly and gesturing at his phone, abandoned in the covers.

Steve sighed dramatically. He liked to think that Tony belonged only to him, but Red Velvet had many sisters that clearly wanted to congratulate her and be a part of the big day. What kind of fiancé Steve would be if he denied Tony that?

"The last one," Steve negotiated, pulling Tony closer and wrapping hands possessively around his lover, "and then I want you all to myself," he said, obscenely groping Tony's round butt, just to make a point.

Tony giggled again, clearly delighted with Steve being so handsy. "Okay," he agreed, plopping down on the covers again, "the last one before breakfast! Aaah!" Tony squeaked, when Steve sunk down right after him, trying to unwrap his fiancé from the tiny bathrobe, just like one unwraps a present, all accompanied by Tony's excited laughter, Steve's hungry growling, and the melody of 'I want to break free' by Queen, Tony had set as a ringtone.

Breakfast could wait. Tony could call back. But their life as an engaged couple started right now and it was a moment Steve didn't want to share with anyone. Only him, Tony and Red Velvet.

'I've fallen in love for the first time. And this time I know it's for real. I've fallen in love, yeah. God knows, God knows I've fallen in love.'

————-

<– previous part

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ta-dam, the big reveal of Tony's drag mom! also, some more of my fav drag queens got a shout-out. Sam's drag name was created by @roshytsunami, thank you for following this story! Steve's outfit is the outfit Chris Evans had on during Oscar Gala in 2019, if you are wondering.

————-

tag list

@destiel-is-classic, @prithvik , @azurixx ,  @mangakats, @mystey-writes,@w1nters-stark, gloriousmarvellokiturtle, @the-pop-culture-geek

#stony #SUPERHUSBANDS #steve rogers #tony stark #drag queen #drag queen AU #au #the pitted olive #the pitted olive fic #fanfic #fanfiction

[writingfromkitchenator]

Thor ~ Maniac

800 Followers Challenge!

Bonus Fic

Based on  Maniac by Michael Sembello

Words: 1,648

Warnings: Teasing, sexual tension, jealous Thor

If Thor wasn’t mistaken, your whole existence as part of the Avengers was to vex him.  You were an assassin, a damned good one at that, and you enjoyed killing just a little too much, but you were also kind, loyal and funny.

Although the humour always seemed to be as his expensive.

He wanted to hate you, he did, but he couldn’t.  Everything about you was perfect, even with the constant teasing thrown his way, and the skill you wielded in battle made him just want to do things to you.

Which was mostly what vexed him so.

You were temptation itself to him and you seemed to know it, your demeanour changing whenever he walked into a room.

It was infuriating.

Then, he saw you dance.

It was one of Tony’s parties, loud music, too many people, but lots of alcohol, flowing freely and without any thought of consequence.

Thor watched from the other side of the room as you dragged Bucky up to the dance floor, the two of you having made fast friends and you were slowly bringing the soldier back out of his shell, a shy smile on his lips as he tried to politely refuse your dance.

But you were having nothing of it, probably fuelled a little by alcohol, and slowly, you managed to get him to dance with you, others on the dance floor cheering.

Thor watched you, his gaze practically burning into your skin as he watched every movement, every flash of teeth as you smiled at Bucky, who finally looked like he was starting to enjoy himself.  Bucky never touched you, but Thor could see it happening in his minds eye, one of his hands clenching on his knee, his teeth gritting together.

“You know, if you want to dance you could just ask her.”  Thor hadn’t even notice Steve sit next to him, his gaze flicking over to him to see him smiling.  “It would be better than sitting there getting agitating over it.”

Thor snorts.  “That woman exists to annoy me.”

Steve chuckles. “Maybe, but have you ever thought she does it for your attention?”

A frown creases his forehead at this, finally dragging his gaze fully away from you to look at Steve.

“You’re a god Thor,” Steven pointed out.  “And she’s an assassin, one that’s killed a lot of people, some very powerful.  The way I think she’s see it is that you are very much out of her league.”

“If she thought that, she wouldn’t tease me so,” Thor growled, throwing back a good half of his drink, enjoying the burn of it down his throat.  “And she certainly wouldn’t be dancing with Bucky.”

Steve shakes his head, still smiling.  “People do crazy things Thor, but I can promise that they are just friends, they’ve been through a lot of she’s probably one of the closest next to Nat to understand what he has been through.”  Steve then pats Thor’s arm.  “Give her a go, talk to her, you might actually find yourself surprised.”

Thor growls as Steve leaves him be, his gaze quickly finding you in the crowd again, finding you now dancing alone, hips swinging to the beat, every movement filled with a casual, practised ease that he knew was from years of fighting.  Your eyes were closed, a slight smile on your lips and in that moment, he desperately wanted to know what you were thinking.

His feet were moving before he thought about it, moving to the dance floor, a few giggles reaching him, ones he ignored, making a bee line for you, his hands resting on your hips.

Your smile at him as you opened your eyes seemed unsurprised.  “I was wondering if you might finally join me.”

He grits his teeth. “Oh?  You could’ve just asked me.”

The laugh tested his patience as you slid away from him, the look back a test on whether he’d follow. “If I did that, I wouldn’t get to see you so riled up.”

He does follow, unable to help himself, the two of you moving around the dancefloor with ease, you staying just out of reach, must to the amusement of several people who had noticed the happenings.

“Why do you like seeing me like this?”  He asked, his gaze having never once left you, curiosity and impatience burning in his veins.  “Especially when I could kill you oh so easily.”

You laugh, the sound dancing along his skin, adding to his desire to reach you and keep a hold of you. “Do you forget who you talk to Thor? I thought I was the only one with the desire to see blood on the battlefield.”

You don’t quiet make it away from him this time, Thor catching your arm, his patience finally at an end as he pulls you hard to him, your back pressed again him and lips lowering to your ear, his voice nothing but a low growl.  “I think we both know it’s not blood we’re after when it comes to each other Y/N.”

The shiver than ran through you at his words were his confirmation, even as you tipped your head back, pressing against him, making him freeze at the smile on your lips. “Is that so?  Well, you certainly haven’t done anything to prove that to me yet big boy.”

It took him so off guard as you kissed his chin that his grip loosened and you managed to dance away from him again, but this time you were quick to prance off the dance floor, grinning madly back at Thor as we watches you disappear from the room.

With a growl almost like a rumble of thunder, only the closest few dancers hearing, he followed after you, determination in his step.

In the corner of the room, Bucky handed Steve a twenty dollar note, rolling his eyes as the soldier grinned.

Thor was tired of this cat and mouse game, so he didn’t give you the satisfaction of hurrying after you, easily striding through the halls of the tower, listing as the beats of the music drew further away and the barely there sounds of your footfalls become a little more audible.

He had decided he had been waiting long enough, now it was time to get a little of his own back.

It seemed to take a long time before he caught up to you, leaning against your bedroom door with an impatient pout that he got a lot of satisfaction out of.  “Am I boring you?”

Thor smirks and shakes his head.  “Hardly, but I like to savour my prey after a successful hunt.”

There was no missing the flash in your eyes, a challenge as you straightened against the door. “Oh?  And who said you’d made the catch yet?”

He moved faster than what you were expecting, a yelp caught in your throat as you suddenly find yourself pinned against the door, Thor’s hands resting either side of your head. “Trust me, I’m very sure.”

There was no missing the dart of your tongue to wet your lips as you looked at him, struggling for a moment to return to the cocky grin you’d had in place before.  “I don’t know Thor, prey can be very wily at times.  I wouldn’t place all your eggs in-”

Thor’s lips crushed against yours before you could finish, the kiss hard and bruising.  You moaned and gave in almost instantly, your arms sneaking around his neck as he pressed you firmly against the door, his hands sliding down your body.

You gasped and shuddered as lightning licked at your skin, the intensity only broke by your clothes, your body melting into him, Thor taking the chance to dominate the kiss fully, his fingers pressing tighter, almost bruising, a smirk on his lips as he swallowed another moan.

Your teeth sunk into his bottom lip and Thor broke away with a growl, his blood on fire as he glared at you and you smirked through half lidded eyes.  “It’s going to take more than that big boy.  I’m not that easy.”

There was no mistaking the growl that rolled through him this time, his eyes dark as thunder seemed to fill the hall, his hands snaking under your clothes, finally meeting your skin, making your gasp at the unblocked connection allowing the lightning to run free in sharp, almost painful bites.

“Funny,” His voice is low, thick, and he nips at your jaw line.  “You seem that easy to me.”

The challenging flash ran through your gaze again but again, Thor was ready, catching your hands and pinning them above your head in one of his.  You were breathing hard, staring at him, wondering what he was going to do next, your body still pinned between him and the door.

When nothing happens straight away, Thor seeming to try and gather himself a little, a sweet smile crosses yours lips, making him tense, preparing himself.

“Thor?”

“Y/N.”

“Would you dance with me?”

Thor groaned, regretting his words from earlier, but there was no missing the hungry look he now gave you, boring into that had your breathe catching in your throat.

He leaned in close, his lips hovering above yours, now in complete control of the situation.  “You are evil, and you must be destroyed.”

You don’t bother to fight the heady moan as he claims your lips again, sinking into his grip as he lets you go and picks you up with one arm, your legs wrapping around him, his other hand gripping blindly for the door handle.

The door finally opens and the two of you enter without breaking the kiss, your hands burying into his hair, making him groan as your nails scratch into his scalp, solidifying his initial thoughts of you even as he kicks the door shut behind him.

#marvel #avengers #thor #thor odinson #thor x reader #short #drabbles #800 followers challenge

[bi-bi-want-dragon]

Meet the Ingermans Chapter 4 Snoggletog and New Traditions

AO3 | FF.net

I have returned!!!  This chapter is a little almost companion-type chapter to "Snoggletog and Mommy's Axe" over in Life After They Left if any of you guys read that. And if not then oh well :) Also if there's anything specific you'd like to see between these two lovebirds, please let me know! I LOVE hearing what you guys are interested in!

Fishlegs bounded into the forge, nearly knocking over the Chief as he tried to stop against his own momentum.  Gobber and Hiccup both flipped their heads around as Fishlegs tried to catch his breath.

“Woah, Fishlegs!  You haven’t been eating those weird mushrooms at the edge of the forest again, have you?” Hiccup asked with a chuckle.

Fishlegs froze and met Hiccup’s eyes, pointing a finger at him.  “Never.  Again.  No!  I have to get Ruffnut’s Snoggletog present finished!  And you’re helping me, remember?”

“How could I forget?” Hiccup replied.  “You haven’t stopped talking about it since Nuffink’s nameday.”

“You know this is important, Hiccup.  I’m still not convinced Ruffnut is okay with all this baby stuff.”  Fishlegs’ glance fell sheepishly to the ground.

Hiccup shared a look with Gobber before walking over to his friend, grasping his shoulders.  When Fishlegs met his eyes, he said, “Fishlegs, this is Ruffnut we’re talking about.  She’s the stubbornest viking in all of New Berk next to my own bride, and definitely the loudest.  If she wasn’t okay with it, you would know.”

Fishlegs huffed but nodded his head in agreement.  “I still won’t feel better until I know it’s ready for tomorrow.  It has to be perfect, so Ruffnut can see without a doubt that this is our new family, and this is right.”

Hiccup nodded with a smile, setting aside a child-sized, intricately designed axe and pulling over the components of Fishlegs’ gift from the nearby shelf.  “Have you decided which one you’re going to design it after?”

Fishlegs smiled.  “Something like that.”

***

“I’ve tried, Astrid, but for the life of me I can’t think of what to give him.”

Ruffnut sat in a chair around the Haddock’s fire pit with Zephyr sitting quietly in her lap, absentmindedly running her fingers through the girl’s soft hair.  The moment Zephyr had seen her aunt, she had ripped her locks out of their signature pigtails, insisting that Ruffnut redo them (much to Astrid’s annoyance).

Astrid chuckled as she attempted to wrangle in a squirming Nuffink.  “You’re giving him a child, Ruff, is anything else really necessary?”

“You and I both know he’s at the forge with Hiccup right now working on something amazing.  And I’ve got yak dung for h-  Zephyr, kid, I told you I don’t know how to braid like your mom does.”  Ruffnut smiled down at the anxious little girl who was now patting Ruffnut’s cheek.

“But how come Momma knows a different way?” Zephyr asked.

“Because she knows the fancy way.  I don’t.”

“But...  But how come Momma knows it and you don’t, Aunt Ruffie?”

“Because she’s married to the Chief,” Ruffnut replied.  Zephyr opened her mouth, but wasn’t able to form her next question.  Her eyebrows pinched together as she tried to puzzle through the nonexistent connection between braiding knowledge and the royal bloodline.

Astrid chuckled again and shook her head before bringing her attention back to Ruffnut.  “Fishlegs is a lot like Hiccup, right?  He’s great at giving thoughtful gifts, but he’s not exactly a material person.  Remember my betrothal gift to Hiccup?”

“You mean the one you never got him?”

“Exactly,” Astrid confirmed.  “And he and I are doing just fine, aren’t we?”  Nuffink cried out in Astrid’s arms, leaning over as if trying to grasp the floor.  “Alright, alright, you little Terrible Terror,” Astrid muttered, setting the boy down onto the floor.  He looked around for a moment as if surprised he earned his freedom before rolling onto his hands and knees and taking off.  Zephyr laughed and hopped down off of Ruffnut’s lap, dashing after her brother.

“Thor almighty, how long has he been doing that?” Ruffnut asked, slightly horrified.

“Oh, he’s been getting better over the last moon or so,” Astrid sighed, shaking her head.  “That one’s going to give us trouble.  I have a bad feeling he’s got too much of Hiccup’s recklessness in him.”

“Then Odin help us all,” Ruffnur muttered as she rolled her eyes.

Astrid snorted.  “Alright, back to your problem.  Why don’t you just cook his favorite meal?  Something simple that he’ll appreciate.”

“You think that’ll be enough?”

“For Fishlegs?  All he cares about right now is that little bundle in your belly and you yourself.  He’s already the happiest man in the world.”

***

Favorite meal...  Favorite meal...  Ruffnut wracked her brain as she kicked through the snow, both freshly fallen since the highest sun today and tightly packed from the last few snowfalls as well.  She knew Fishlegs loved a good rabbit stew, but she wouldn’t call it his favorite meal.

She would make fresh bread tonight, and fresh yak butter as well.  She knew Fishlegs loved certain herbs folded into his butter, which she would add if they still had some from the last harvest.  But what to go with it?

Ruffnut took a slight detour home to stroll through the market, hoping something would spark some inspiration.  The markets were always more scarce in the winter months than in the summer, but that was to be expected from the lack of fresh produce to farm.  She was able to get her hands on some of the heartier produce that tends to store well through the frost, but still no thought as to what to cook with them.

Just as she was about to break down and settle for rabbit stew, a familiar smell reached her nose.  For a moment she was surrounded by the fresh wood of newly built stables and fish-filled buckets.  She could feel cool scales under her hands growing steadily warmer as the rancid smell of Zippleback gas enveloped her, followed by the explosion of embers as fire scorched the air.

“Feeling better, there, Miss Ruffnut?  Glad to see you roaming the markets again.”

Ruffnut opened her eyes to the smiling face of Garvin, taking his place behind the stand before her.  “Yeah, the morning sickness didn’t seem to hit me today...  Hey, how did you manage to get fish?  I thought we ran out already in the stores.”

“Oh, we did a while ago, but I managed to break through a bit ‘o the ice below the docks yesterday.  Caught quite the spread, if I do say so myself.”

“What’d you manage to snag?” Ruffnut asked, setting down her bundle of produce.

“Plenty ‘o catfish, cod, mackerel, a bit ‘o tuna...”  Garvin scratched his beard as he looked curiously at Ruffnut.  “Doesn’t Mr. Fishlegs enjoy pollock?”

Ruff sighed.  “He does, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t able to get any of that.”

Garvin glaced around before kneeling down to retrieve something out of reach.  “Funny enough, I was able to snag two.”  He stood with the fish in question wrapped in his arms.  “They’re a bit smaller than usual, but ‘s better than nothing.  I kept them just for the Ingermans.  A thank you for helping with the boys when my wife was ill.”

Ruffnut wasn’t sure what to say, but she was silently thanking Thor for the perfect meal for her husband that essentially fell into her lap.  “Thank you, Garvin.  You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Carrying her prize home, Ruffnut was suddenly quite excited to surprise her husband with an improved recipe she had been working on for a while now.

***

“Ruffnut, I tried to think of the best way to show you...  No, no.  Our families are blended now, so I just-  Ugh, no!  Stupid!”  Fishlegs tried time and time again to wrap the words together in the perfect explanation of his gift, but the words just wouldn’t flow like the descriptions on his information cards.  He could write decently about tangible things.  Feelings, though...

Maybe he was trying too hard.  Maybe saying a simple “I love you, Ruffnut,” and just handing her the package was the best way to go.  But that seemed so bland, so insignificant considering how important this gift was to him.

His focus was distracted as their hut came into view and a familiar smell wafted his way.  Something that hadn’t touched his imagination in a while suddenly crashed over him like a flood.  He was surrounded by musty rocks and lava, a metallic burning followed quickly followed by the sharp ting of rock forcing a molten material into just one of uncountable potential shapes.  The closer he got to the smell, the more evolved it became.  He picked up on the earthy smell of salt mixing with the cooking flesh of fish.  He chuckled quietly to himself, remembering the night of the twins’ salt-encrusted fish on their island getaway decades ago when the great beasts of the sky still roamed loyally at their sides.  Thankfully, the present smell wasn’t so salt-heavy; it actually smelled quite pleasant.

By the time he opened the door, shaking the snow and chill from his body, the rich scent of fresh bread and cooked vegetables enveloped him in a warmth transcended only by...

“Welcome home, love,” Ruffnut said, wiping her hands on a nearby cloth as she glided over to Fishlegs.  She pressed a kiss to his cheek as she unwrapped the furs from his shoulders.  Throwing the furs on their hook by the door, she eagerly wrapped her arms around him, not caring if she seemed a little desperate for his embrace.  “Happy Snoggletog.”

“Happy Snoggletog, my queen,” he said, his smile giving away his absolute pleasure in an instant.  “Though, you do know that’s tomorrow, right?  Where did you get this fish?  It smells fresh.”

Ruffnut tried to stifle her pride at the delighted glow in her husband’s eyes.  “Well, Garvin managed to snag some in a break in the ice yesterday.  I couldn’t bring myself to let that kind of Snoggletog opportunity slip by.  Especially not when he saved two polluck just for us.”

Fishlegs’ eyes grew wide.  “Pollock?  Really?  That’s hard to snag in the warmer months, let alone the winter.”

Ruffnut shrugged.  “Maybe we have Snoggletog a night early?  While we still have the time to be spontaneous?” she added with a chuckle, patting her stomach.

Fishlegs cradled her cheek in his hand and gently kissed her lips, wrapping his free arm around her back to pull her as close as possible.  “I love you, Ruff.”

She chuckled, cheeks growing warm.  “You’re not too bad, yourself, ‘Legs.”  She kissed him back.  “I love you, too.”

Now it was Fishlegs’ turn to fight the nerves.  He cleared his throat and picked up the forgotten box he had set down on a chair next to him.  “Well, since my gift is obviously this wonderful meal my beautiful wife made - which I am incredibly excited about, might I add - I guess I’ll give you my gift now while it’s still cooking.”  He held out the box gingerly, motioning with his head for Ruffnut to sit down.  When she walked over to the couch only to stop and stare at Fishlegs, he giggled.  He took his seat in the chair, patting his leg before opening up his arm.  Ruffnut easily found her favorite spot, sitting on his leg and leaning against his shoulder, his arm wrapped loosely around her waist and lips pressing occasional kisses to her collarbone.

He set the box in her lap, hiding his smile in her hair.  She carefully untied the strings, painstakingly choosing which corner of the box to open, inching her finger underneath the wood...

Fishlegs laughed.  “For the love of Thor, Ruff, just open it!”

Ruffnut mirrored his laughter, breaking into the box.  “Alright, alright.”  She lifted the lid and froze as the laughter slowly evaporated from her lips.

She lifted the small helmet from the box to inspect it closer.  It was small enough that she knew it wasn’t meant for her, but a child.  Their child.  A thought she only then realized she never had to herself until this moment.  Because the helmet didn’t just boast the horns like Ruffnut’s helmet, nor did it only show off the wings of the Ingermans.  Instead, the Ingerman wings were slightly more exaggerated to better stand out against the outreaching Thorston horns in a perfect balancing act.

When Ruffnut didn’t speak, Fishlegs did his best.  “I didn’t want our child to just have the Ingerman wings.  He or she will still be a Thorston, and I didn’t want them to forget that.  So...  I tried my best to combine the two.  The best combination of Thorston and Ingerman, proudly shown for all to see.  What do you think?”  he sheepishly asked.

Suddenly, Ruffnut was pissed off.  Not at the gift, no.  The gift was perfectly thoughtful and wonderful and more than she could have ever asked for.  She was pissed that she found herself fighting tears.

She angrily wiped them away, setting the helmet and box beside Fishlegs and burying her head on his shoulder.

“Babe?” he asked concerned as he wrapped his arms around her quickly.  “What’s wrong?”

“You made me cry, stupid,” she shot back.

Fishlegs chuckled, rubbing her back.  “You know I’ve always loved that soft side you try to bury,” he gently reminded her.

“Doesn't mean I like it,” she clarified.

He kissed her hair.  “But you like the gift?”

She pulled back to look her husband in the eye.  “I love it.  Of course I do.  I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, brushing a bit of hair from her face.  He let his hand gently fall to wrap his fingers in her’s, lifting them to his lips.  The soft smile that graced Ruffnut’s lips melted Fishlegs’ heart.  She squeezed his hand and pulled their interlocked fingers slowly against her stomach, leaning in to properly kiss his lips.  She felt Fishlegs gently rub her lower stomach with his finger as Ruffnut relaxed into his embrace.

She wanted to savor this moment, but the tightness and burning came back to her throat as she found herself fighting tears again.  She leaned back and laughed at herself as she wiped the tears away.  “Well, um, dinner’s probably ready by now and I’m starving.”

Fishlegs offered an understanding nod.  He knew she still hadn’t matched his comfort level with their impending adventure in parenthood, but he also saw she was getting close.  “Then let’s eat, my love.”

Fishlegs carefully pulled Ruffnut to her feet and followed her to the kitchen to help put together their plates.  Ruffnut took a deep breath and tried to steady herself.  Obviously she had never been void of emotion, but she was still getting used to having her moods so drastically different from one moment to the next by the drop of a helmet - literally.

She was getting there, though.  Somewhere not so deep down, she was ecstatic about their little baby.  And not just because of how happy she knew Fishlegs was.

#httyd #httyd fanfic #httyd 2 #httyd 3 #fishlegs #fishlegs ingerman #ruffnut #ruffnut thorston #ruffnut ingerman #rufflegs #randis fics

[wadey-wilson]

Essay essay pls! I actually enjoyed the TASM films but I watched them when I was like, 10, so my actual perception of them is super skewed

re: 

I usually never talk much about things I hate because I don’t wanna care about things I hate. it’s a waste of time and nerves. but given that you asked nicely, and that I have a lot to say, and that I should sleep but we all know it never plays out, let’s go.

right off the bat, I want to say that I believe you can change some things about characters or stories if adapting them for the silver screen either requires it, or the director has a really good idea as to how the character should be done. that being said, I also believe there’s a line you can’t cross. you either change the character to be more appealing and to have them resonate with the audiences more (see: Thor in Thor: Ragnarok, Guardians of The Galaxy), or to have it fit the story better (see: Mandarin in Iron Man 3). I have no problem when a director goes ‘I have an idea for this character’ and he actually has, let him do it. however, when you change too much about a story (see: Civil War) or a character, they become unrecognizable and completely off. you ever read Superior Spider-Man? they become that. a shell of someone we know but with completely different behaviour, manners, mind, and character for that matter. you can’t change a character to this point, because it ruins them. say Iron Man doesn’t drink alcohol at all, he’s a granddad of a random kid taken from the streets, and kills innocent people. doesn’t really sound well, huh?

and that’s the huge problem with that small series of films. the producers don’t understand Spider-Man (don’t @ me with Spider-Verse, Sony didn’t touch Spider-Verse, it was written by the ever great Phil Lord and Chris Miller), and they never will because they frankly don’t give a shit. they ruined Spider-Man 3 by forcing Raimi to put Venom in there despite Raimi not being able to handle the material and not being interested in that character. reason why they made the TASM films? money. reason why they keep the rights to Spidey? money. so since they don’t understand Spider-Man, they can’t make a good Spidey movie as long as it’s them making that movie.

I also want to add that I like crap movies. Spider-Man 3 is half a solid movie, but you can’t have a bad time while watching it - it’s hilarious, has great action scenes, the characters feel like characters, and the tone is consistent. Venom movie wise is like 4/10, it has 2 prologues, and 179 plot holes and/or stupid choices, but it’s entertaining, funny (even when unintentionally), has some very good dialogues, and the Venom/Eddie relationship (right along with Tom Hardy himself) saves the movie. so I like crap movies when they’re fun, comedy gold, or just so stupid that you can’t help but laugh (see: Twilight). but when a movie is shit, and does none of those things, I can’t sit through it.

with all that said, here goes: reasons why The Amazing Spider-Man movies suck balls and are offensive towards the character of Spider-Man:

comic wise:

- Peter Parker - let’s google Peter Parker.

caring. kind. loyal. brave. scared. worried. intelligent.

that’s the basic core aspect of Peter Parker. you can’t change the core of a character or else they become a different person. the core aspect is what makes them them. Peter Parker is ‘with great power comes great responsibility’, he’s a struggling one because he made a choice to save lives and that choice often ruins his day-to-day life, he’s constantly trying to be a better man, but all while bad things are happening, he remains kind, loving, caring, loyal, respectful, and worth of the powers he’s carrying.

TASM Peter Parker? that dude’s a selfish dickhead. i could go scene by scene to prove my point, but off the top of my head, he:

stalks, creeps, breaks (important) promises, is rude 24/7 towards his aunt and uncle, risks people’s lives, damages public property and doesn’t even say sorry, sneaks into Oscorp by stealing someone’s righteously earned intern badge (plus literally laughing at the guy who got kicked out bc of him, what the hell).

other than that, Andrew Garfield does not look socially awkward or nerdy in the slightest. the movies are really trying to portray him as one and terribly fail. he’s not a good fit for this Spidey. Superior Spidey? yeah, that asshole, sure. I’m not saying he’s a bad actor, he’s an amazing actor. he’s just not good for the role of Peter Parker.

I mentioned Thor before and how making him a goofball actually worked out fine, and that’s because the core aspect of him never disappeared. he’s still Thor, courageous, righteous, loving, kind, but with more jokes. Peter Parker is a nerdy outcast, he’s socially awkward like 95% of the time, and doesn’t even know how to walk straight. Andrew’s Spidey? obnoxious-skateboarding-cool-looking-Edward-Cullen-like-tall-and-model-like cute. I have no words.

to add to his terrible traits, Peter’s only motivation to put on the red-and-blue spandex is revenge. revenge. I don’t care about that scene where he’s sitting with his mask wondering if he should go after the Lizard. that doesn’t mean a thing. it would if his behaviour changed, but it never did. he made a mask and then a suit so people wouldn’t see who commits the crimes (assaulting at nights while looking for Ben’s killer, that’s crime), that’s down-right fucked up. this is not Spider-Man. speaking of…

- Spider-Man - he doesn’t care about people’s lives at-freaking-all, and it just wounds me. he jokes around while people are being murdered (see: TAMS2 scene with the Rhino where he didn’t stop Rhino when he had the chance, instead letting him run over tens of people and kept. on. joking., or putting on a fireman’s hat while people are being killed). jokes? what jokes? that guy’s a jackass. he threatens a man saying he’d kill him if he’d be the one who killed uncle Ben. he publicly humiliates a guy, I don’t care if he’s a criminal. 

see this:

(the amazing s-m #797)

vs this

?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

- Ben Parker - he’s 100% useless in the movie. in the comics and in the Raimi’s movies, he plays a huge role. he’s Peter’s moral compass right along with May Parker, which…

- May Parker - her presence in the movie is pointless. she’s got no impact on the plot. cut out all the scenes with her, and it changes nothing about the movies. her presence only makes Peter look more like an asshole bc he’s one towards her 99% of the time. she’s there to be… I don’t even know. she’s useless. oh, no, wait, she’s there to make Peter break his promise to Captain Stacy. amazing.

movie wise:

- tone - inconsistent, all over the place. TASM1 is dark, silly, dark, lighthearted, funny, dark, funny, dark. why can’t it be just dark or funny? same goes to TASM2, except TASM2 is way worse due to the unconnected subplots. examples of well-toned movies: Homecoming (a comedy starring Spider-Man), Iron Man 3 (consistently cartoonish with balanced humor and action), The Avengers (consistently funny and cheesy).

- character arc - there’s none. Peter learns absolutely nothing. at all. he’s selfish and remains selfish. puts people’s lives at risk all the time. breaks promises, not learning any lesson. I mentioned Venom before and how it’s a dumb movie, but even that one has Venom have an arc. rushed one, yes, very rushed, but still an arc. 

- music - stock music + bad pop music + elevator music + something that tried to sound like dubstep but wound up being what comes out when you scratch your nails across the board ft. growling dying dragons from bad cartoons. I’m really sorry for Hans Zimmer that his name is in the credits bc the amazing Pharell Whilliams literally ruined the TASM2 soundtrack.

- directing - it’s shit. the movie’s shot with no life to speak of. boring shots, lower than average. there’s no scene that makes me ‘whoa’. there’s no scene that makes me ‘this is a really good shot. I very much like this shot.’ ok, I’m lying, there are two shots in the entire 2 movies. there:

these are the only shots that I like. out of 2 movies. please, take all my money.

on top of that, the colors are just ugly. Deadpool has greasy colors but they’re consistent and fit the creepy tone of the movie. TASM movies can’t decide what the hell they are so they are just a mess.

- villains:

x the Lizard. he wants people to be lizards, and that’s it. he wants his arm to regrow but then he goes ‘forget arms, now I want people to be lizards.’ and it’s sad bc he’s a very good villain in the comics.

x Green Goblin. motivation is weak, plus why did he crawl towards the suit? if he crawled towards the Doc Ock arms, would he become Doc Ock? how did he know hot to fly the glider? ‘you took his picture, so you know him’ - first of all, that shot was taken from 64508098 meters away, and second of all, how does this make Harry think Peter knows Spider-Man? he’s still better than Connors, tho.

x Electro - quite an odd one, weak motivations, what the hell was that with the corny speeches pulled out of his ass and completely out of the place? why did he even have shorts? where did he take his suit from? that’s a PG-13 movie, I get it, we don’t wanna watch an electric p*nis swing, ok, we get it  still, bad motivations, makes no sense 80% of the time, and... he’s just off. he’s such a badly-handled and poorly-written character I want to cry,

- other characters:

x Gwen Stacy - so called generic love interest. that’s it.

x I don’t even care.

- stupid bullshit - when a movie is good, I don’t care about plot holes or stupid stuff like visible reshoots (see: Tony’s hair in IW) or just idiotic moments (see: Black Widow knocking a guy out with her hair in The Avengers).

however, when the stupid bullshit takes over a movie, you can’t help but notice. why did the Lizard want everyone to be lizards? why did the electric eels fix the gap between Max’s teeth? what’s with the subplot with Peter chasing Ben’s killer? is Peter so stupid that he brought his camera with his name on it to Lizard’s secret layer? why are Peter’s parents so focused on? they’re 100% irrelevant and have no impact on the movies besides making them even stupider (that calculator scene, I’m-). why did Ben jump towards the gun? how did scrawny and skinny Harry Osborn overpower two armed, grown-ass guards? if Peter is smart enough to make web-shooters and web fluid, why did he have to look up the basics of electricity on YT? why is Gwen so stupid to grab a metal bar when there’s an electricity-fueled guy murdering people? why did even Electro become bad? why do people stand around very dangerous fight scenes like it’s a spectacle with fairies? run! the plane scene. the plane scene no2. the crane scene. how did the cranes happen to be perfectly in line across the way to Oscorp? even Raimi wouldn’t put this corny shit in his movies, and he made his trilogy corny for purpose. train? coming? out? from? the ground??? a video coincidentally waiting for Peter to be played in that train? Gwen Stacy happening to be the interns’ tour guide at Oscorp? how did Gwen get to the fight with Electro scene sooner than the police? why did the web get cut by two solid objects, simultaneously making a ‘cut’ sound, what the fuck was that? why were those movies even made? (money)

I want to add that I don’t care about deleted scenes. put them in the movie if they’re important. I really don’t give a damn there was a scene with Peter’s dad (which is just stupid) or some stuff with Connors. I don’t judge deleted scenes, I judge the movies.

and that’s it. I feel like I can talk more, but it’s like 11pm, and I have to get up early and go to work, so… I said what I said. you can’t change my opinion. if you like these films, I don’t care. they’re trash. if you can watch them and think ‘that’s a good movie,’ I’m glad you can, and I wish you a happy life with that bad perception.

to add to all of this, I’ll have you know that even Andrew Garfield is mad/sad that Sony compromised the character of Peter Parker for the sake of money.

before I go, the only good things about these movies:

- TASM2 suit is cool. I like it a lot,

- that scene where Peter wakes up and accidentally breaks things,

- that montage with Spidey after he breaks up with Gwen, it’s really nice and in-character, looking like it was written by someone completely else,

- they didn’t make a third movie.

P.S. if you want some good videos I remember seeing about those movies, visit yourmoviesucks and TheCosmonautVarietyHour on YT. also ScreenCrush explains what’s wrong with those movies basing on one scene, and it’s great.

P.S. 2. there was this comment on YT under the TASM movies review that I really like, and honestly what a mood:

#roll credits #i said what i said and you can't change my mind #when i was younger i thought i like those movies #but then i thought about them again #and wondered how could i ever think they are good #they're a waste of money #they're a waste of time #and effort #that's me and my opinion #i usually don't speak much but well #the amazing spider-man #long post

[distant-rose-archive-blog]

52 documents, 5 excel and 30 aesthetics on Little Pirates? Are you kidding? I WANT IT ALL! For real though, that much work into it, how much did/how far did you plot? I'm just curious because I really do love your universe.

Anon, legit Harrison, Wes and Beth are fully realized adults with heartaches, hardships and even their own children in my head. I think I’ve plotted as far as Beth being roughly 50 years old. On top of that, I also had to develop a supporting cast and shit, so there’s development on at least 30 other characters outside of my Jonses children. But if you want a taste of some of the plot work/headcanons I have regarding Harrison, Wes and Beth, I’ve left you roughly twenty plot points/facts I have planned out for them below the cut. So, spoilers, I guess?

Harrison Jones

gentle giant trope as fuck - legit had the body of a linebacker and the soul of a baby deer

looks like he could kill you, but is legit a cinnamon roll

anxious perfectionist puppy complete with slight OCD (has a constant need for organization and will pick up after you without your asking)

serious self-esteem issues/constantly doubts self - compares himself to parents and grandparents too much

a very firm believer in good form/bit of a black and white view on morality - made fun of by morally questionable younger siblings because of this

very much an old soul in a young body

gives so much and expects nothing in return - would give a stranger the shirt off his back

loves food more than he loves you/eats Killian and Emma out of house and home because he is a big boy and LET’S NOT FORGET THE BACON FOLKS! BACON IS HIS ONE TRUE LOVE

hates, legit hates, being compared to his dad/told that he is just like his dad - is deliberately clean shaven and keeps his hair on the long side so people don’t confuse them and people still call him Killian (Is privately like “excuse you I’m like a good five inches taller and at least fifty pounders heavier than my dad” but would never say it aloud because that’s hella rude and he’s a polite mofo)

beanies and bomber jackets forever with this babe

spends a ridiculous amount of time at Granny’s Diner playing darts and fixing things that are broken because he likes being helpful/useful

has a photographic memory and remembers a crazy amount of shit (most likely to catch you in a lie)

will bail you out of jail if necessary but expect a lecture on how you need to clean up your act

Closest to his “cousin” Neal but gets along with most people

Incredibly nice and sweet, but does a psycho mode where if you threaten his family or put a knife to his neck he has no issues snapping your neck/going Freddie Krueger on your ass sometimes blacks out during these violent episodes because he doesn’t like he doesn’t like hurting people and it’s hard thing to put on his conscious

accomplished musician - plays guitar, bass and piano

literally has no clue how handsome/beautiful he is and cannot take compliments/gets super uncomfortable/blushes constantly

Hates coffee but drinks it anyway because he’s a caffeine addict

Has horrible hand-eye coordination as a kid because he was constantly growing and because of that is terrible with swordplay. He got better in his late teens but never picked it up again. Prefers long-range weapons such as bows and throwing darts

legit has the same password for fucking everything - it’s either 1227 (his birthday) or seaweed1227 (Seaweed is his dog’s name)

is legit the world’s most doting and loyal boyfriend/is dating Aladdin and Jasmine’s daughter and worships the ground she walks upon. (He then becomes the world’s most doting husband and father of three adorable babies.)

takes over for Emma as sheriff alongside Neal

Wes Jones

sarcastic asshole magician who is jaded as fuck trope

looks like he could kill you and would probably kill you

has absolutely no filter and doesn’t care if he hurts your feelings

gives zero fucks about authority and goes out of his way to make sure any person of authority knows about it

snarkiest and sassiest mofo alive and enjoys letting you know

most accepting of non-conventional things because he literally doesn’t care and will just go with the flow/won’t even blink at something considered “weird”, he’s more like “yeah, whatever (might or might not have some unconventional relationships of his own regarding Gideon and Bobbi)

is secretly a competitive asshole and will cheat to win/do not play cards with this child

legit hates tomatoes and ketcup more than life itself. Nothing angers Wes more than when his order gets screwed up and he ends up with either. He will actually refuse to eat it.

most likely to hotwire your car or steal your wallet because he’s bored and he can/he would give it back to you at the end of the day however

most introverted out of the siblings/sometimes cannot deal with people/will put up his hoodie and put in his earphones, which is essentially his way of telling you to leave him the fuck alone.

The best with magic out of his siblings since he’s good at compartmentalizing/is constantly practcing and studying magic with Gideon and Bobbi (What I can Baby Robyn in this universe)/ Is basically Power of Three with Gideon and Bobbi

Literally puts no effort into dating/sex life - it’s mainly other people coming to him and he’s like “yeah sure”/possibly aromantic

Doesn’t really crave human contact/interaction but he likes it for the most part. Could live on without it however.

Emotionally unaware at times/a complete idiot when it comes to how other people feel

Though emotionally stunted at times, don’t fuck with his mother, sister, “cousin” Ruthie, Bobbi or Gideon because boy will straight up break your hand to prove a point/A ridiculous dirty ass fighter/will not play by the rules

Has a massive sweet-tooth/constantly has hard candies like mints and caramels on his person

Hoodies are his uniform

Has long ass blonde hair (think Thor or Sunshine from Remember the Titans) and often keeps it in a man bun - Emma HATES it

His iTunes library is bigger than yours/loves music and plays the drums

He doesn’t make a habit of apologizing but if he’s sorry he’s more likely to make a quiet gesture than verbally apologize

Ends up running a music store/backend magic store with Gideon and Bobbi

Beth Jones

daddy’s girl tomboy femme fatale trope aka miss I will fuck you up and you will not only thank me but beg for more

looks like a cinnamon roll but is actually a SINnamon roll…who could kill you

absolutely Daddy’s Little Girl/super ridiculously close to her dad to the point that they’re very good at predicting what the other is going to do/going to react

her most prized possession is her “hook” necklace that her dad gave her on her sixteenth birthday (it’s legit just a fish hook bent to look like Killian’s hook on a chain) and she never takes it off

is left-handed so she had a hard time learning things from people growing up (ex. Harrison tried to teach her how to play guitar and it ended miserably)

loves animals more than she loves people, and will go nuts over cute dogs and cats. Beth has a habit of going up to strange dogs and making kissy noises at them while scratching their ears and never saying a word to the owner

Beth thinks she should be the one to inherit the Jolly and is prepared to fight her brothers for it.

will attack you with your biggest insecurity/weakness if she feels uncomfortable and doesn’t want to deal with something/would rather have a fight than an emotionally meaningful conversation especially on painful topics

scarily manipulative at times and lies super easily/can think of a convincing lie on the spot when necessary - she disturbs her family with this “gift”

really hates disappointing her parents so if she plans on doing something or something happens that she thinks they won’t like, she will do her best to hide it from them

loyal to friends and family to a fault/will go the distance and die for them a thousand times over

loves wearing dark lipstick, it’s her signature make up move

impulsive and legit has negative amounts of self control

Closest to her “cousin” Ruthie - hated each other when they were kids, but get a better understanding of each other when they get older. Ruthie listens to her relationship drama

drop dead gorgeous and she knows it/will use her looks to her advantage if necessary

very casual with sex but fears actual intimacy. She has a really bad relationship when she was 15/16 and it ended horribly after she had pregnancy scare (only Henry knows this about this however)

has an amazing sense of direction/navigation - very good at mental mapping

the best at swordplay out of her siblings and legit spends two hours a day going over her forms and practicing. She also collects swords and makes sure to practice at least two weeks with any from her collection so she’s comfortable with them. Her favorite sword however is a german rapier.

feels out of place in Storybrooke, makes an ill-thought out wish, ends up in the Enchanted Forrest and legit has a pirate adventure to get back home only to decide that she really likes pirating and it becomes her calling she may or may not have a cache of magic beans at her disposal thanks to a certain pirate she befriends on her journey

dates Ariel’s son at one point, it ends in heartbreak (not either of their fault’s though) and makes Beth afraid of the concept of True Love. (he might have or might have not died trying to save her)

may or may not wear a red great coat as part of her pirate uniform

legit becomes frenemies/rivals with Jim Hawkins/she may or may not have a thing or him she totally does

#anon #rose speaks #little pirates #beth jones #wes jones #harrison jones #spoilers I guess? #asks #answered #little pirates meta #ever after #ever after meta