#danish men have something special

[alexbkrieger13]

Yeah that wasn't good....

'It got into my head': Pernille Harder avoided getting sick, but saw teammates struggle with the weight

Pernille Harder herself experienced the consequences of public weighing on the national team in 2013.

It never got to where it was hard to find back, but it was enough to leave its mark.

For Pernille Harder, captain of the Danish national team, the time leading up to the EC in 2013 was a special time in her national team career.

DR has spoken to eight of the players who took part in the EC in 2013. They all say that several national team players were negatively affected by new physical tests.

Under this, public weighings were introduced in the common room every morning, where the players' weight was written up on a piece of paper which hung freely in view.

The increased focus on body and weight created concerns in the squad for the well-being of individual players, says Pernille Harder.

- There was an extremely large focus on us having to be sharp for the EC . There was talk in the squad about what fat percentage you had. It was as if a lot of people thought that a good body fat percentage was if it was really, really low. So I can understand if there was someone who thought it was really difficult, says Pernille Harder.

- A strange thought came about these things, where you felt that you had to do something about it, if your body fat percentage was not as low as others'. For example, by not eating very much pasta.

At the time, 21-year-old Harder also managed to feel how the new thoughts about body and performance began to fill more and more.

- It stuck in my head, and it was annoying when I thought about whether I ate half or a quarter of a plate of pasta. It was mind-boggling that I spent my time and energy on it, and not whether I could kick the ball into the goal, says Pernille Harder.

- I didn't reach a point where it became morbid, but it could have become if it had continued.

Although Pernille Harder came out of the period without getting sick, several of her teammates were not as lucky.

For Pernille Harder, the extent of the problems that, among other things, public weighings created for the national team in 2013, is not pleasant to hear about.

- It's crazy that one focus on weight can have created so much. It just says that you have to think twice if you want to start something like this in the future.

At DBU's director of football, Peter Møller, the players' many accounts from the documentary 'Fodbolden's unsynlige syge' are also received with annoyance and seriousness.

Among other things, it makes a big impression how several players have been influenced by public opinions on the A national team in 2013.

- It is deeply regrettable that this is the feeling that the players are left with. I don't mean that I should start criticizing or doubting the statements that you have been given. There are some we have to adopt, says Peter Møller.

- It was a mistake to let a paper lie ahead in 2013. But it has never focused on weight, but in relation to fluid deficiency and performance-enhancing measures . It was communicated to the players, but apparently not well enough.

Over the past year, DR has spoken to 35 current and former A and U national team players who have or have had symptoms of a mental disorder.

Among other things, 11 of the female players who represented the U19 national team in 2015 say that they have had symptoms of a mental disorder during their youth.

Several of them experienced that public weigh-ins on the youth national teams were the starting point for them to later receive treatment at the Center for Eating Disorders for the life-threatening disease anorexia.

- You shouldn't focus on it at all (weight and weighing, ed. ). Not at all on the youth national team. So now focus on football. What makes you better on the football field. That is the focus you must have as a manager and coach, says Pernille Harder

- That already on the youth national team you start to focus on how your body should look. I don't see the importance in that. The important thing for me is how you perform as a footballer on the pitch. That's what you have to focus on. No footballers are overweight at elite level. You shouldn't focus so much on it at all.

Pernille Harder has a clear appeal to both football clubs and associations when it comes to focusing on body and weight.

- It is really a sensitive subject, and you really have to be careful with it. I think this is an area where many coaches and leaders in federations have not fully understood how we girls think about weight, especially when compared to others.

The Danish national team captain has no doubts when she looks at the possibilities to overcome the problems.

In addition to ensuring a safe environment for the players, coaches and managers must have even better tools to tread carefully and wisely, so that far fewer of the future footballers do not have to become familiar with the mental challenges that elite sport can bring.

- You must not get the wrong understanding of what it means to be a professional. The right information and advice is extremely important. We haven't had that much in women's football, because it hasn't been possible in the past.

- Mental health is an incredibly important area to be able to perform on the football field, but also just to feel good. Football and sport are important, but the most important thing is that you feel good about yourself, says Pernille Harder.

Culture Minister Jakob Engell-Schmidt (M) reacted on Sunday to the documentary and the former and current national team players' accounts of, among other things, public criticism of the A and U national team.

- I am going to invite DBU's management to the minister's office for an explanation of the conditions that have now been uncovered. And I expect to get an assurance that work is done in a different way today and that similar circumstances will never repeat themselves, says Jakob Engell-Schmidt.

#oh wow... #tw for ed #pernille harder #denwnt #chelsea fcw #woso #woso article

[paradiserots]

— INTRODUCING , 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐍 .

* ◟ : 〔 MADS MIKKELSEN, CIS MAN + HE / HIM 〕 SØREN URSIN , some say you’re a FIFTY EIGHT YEAR OLD lost soul among the neon lights. known for being both INGENIOUS and DISHONORABLE, one can’t help but think of NEW PERSON, SAME OLD MISTAKES by TAME IMPALA when you walk by. are you still a KILLER, ASSASSIN, ( BABA YAGA ) for THE TERRORS, even with your reputation as THE PLAGUE DOCTOR? i think we’ll be seeing more of you and NEARLY DRIVING YOURSELF MAD IN THE PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE, CALLOUSED HANDS CLAD IN BLACK GLOVES— OVERDUE FOR RETIREMENT , A LIGHT THAT ESCAPED YOUR EYES DECADES AGO, although we can’t help but think of VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN ( FRANKENSTEIN ) + MAGNETO ( X-MEN ) + ROBERT FORD ( WESTWORLD ) whenever we see you down these rainy streets.

— STATS .

FULL NAME . søren ursin NICKNAMES . ren BIRTHDAY . february 12th AGE . fifty-eight GENDER . cis-man PRONOUNS . he/him ORIENTATION .bisexual romantic FAMILY . unamed (ex-wife), __ ursin (child), __ (child) OCCUPATION . asassin MARKINGS/TATTOOS . baba yaga tattoo PIERCINGS . none HEIGHT . 6'0

— PERSONALITY .

POSITIVE TRAITS . clever, curious, innovative, knowledgeable, shrewd, meticulous NEGATIVE TRAITS . unethical, selfish, scheming, apathetic, aloof, cynical LANGUAGES . english, danish, german EDUCATION . medical school and all that jazz MBTI . istj (the logistician) MORAL ALIGNMENT . true neutral DEADLY SIN . gluttony  HEAVENLY VIRTUE . patience ZODIAC . aqaurius sun, capricorn rising

— BIOGRAPHY.

YOU HAVE NO GOD BUT YOURSELF.

YOU ARE THE CHILD OF TWO SURGEONS, ONE BRAIN AND ONE HEART. Precociousness is encouraged, if not expected entirely. You are their only son, and carry the weight of their every expectation.  Legacy is a frequent topic of conversation in the Ursin household. The world becomes your eternal mystery, a thread meant for unraveling. 

You explore its various facets, eventually following in your parents’ footsteps and pursuing a career in medicine. Your studies to take you unexpectedly to Columbia Medical School, where you specialize in plastic surgery. Reconstructive surgery becomes what you’re known for. You pursue the most challenging of cases, ones refused by the top doctors in your field. 

You advance as far as you can, and your interest gradually wanes. Somewhere along the way, you get married and have two children. Eventually, the stakes of your profession no longer excite you. There were other mysteries to uncover elsewhere, this much you know when Stoneage is eventually put on your radar. It is the replicants that capture your attention. 

You are immediately enticed by the near perfect imitation of humanity. By the fact that on the surface, they’re indistinguishable from you and those you surround yourself with. You begin to pursue certifications in coding, doing what you can to get your foot in the door with the company. The resignation of your position comes to a shock for many— to make such a pivot at the height of your career is unheard of.

Still, you haven’t a single regret. Your rise through the company ranks comes with the same ease as it does in medicine. It eventually  allows you unfettered access to replicant technology, something you eventually begin exploiting for your own gains. You begin secretly syphoning tech, occasionally selling it to black market dealers, occasionally using it for your own personal projects. What would happen if replicant technology is fused with a human being? This becomes your primary inquiry over the years. 

Your fall from grace comes swiftly. The discovery of your secret illegal endeavors is enough to land you in jail, with a revoked medical license, unearthing your stellar reputation as you know it. Your wife divorces you with swiftness, in order to retain what was left of your familial public image. You do not protest when the divorce proceedings leave you nearly penniless. 

As your sentence nears its end, you eventually receive correspondence from a NIKO ORTEGA,  a professed admirer of your lesser-known work— the ones that managed to escape the attention of the general public— cemented through rumor alone. It is thought that several of your botched surgeries, specifically those resulting in death, were done on purpose, something that was ultimately unable to be proven.

Your skill set could be of potential use to THE TERRORS, and in return, you’d be handsomely compensated. It was the sort of pay you never imagined you’d touch again in this lifetime— something you were more than grateful for, considering your newfound felonies. You become dubbed BABA YAGA, your kiss of death delivered with surgical precision.

— WANTED CONNECTIONS .

ex-wife and children ofc

ex-patients

jail buddies

someone who exposed his crimes

maybe he messed up your surgery or someone close to your character whomp whomp

I'll think more i promise

#lawlessintro #— introduction : soren . #if this doesn't make sense yes it does

[grey-automa]

I was tagged by the wonderful @lunaroceanic !

were you named/named yourself after anyone?

Partially, yes. Partially, no. See, I chose my name (Grey), as it holds a lot of meaning to me. Among many things, it's a beacon of my belief that most things in life aren't black and white, but more so shades of grey. It reminds me not to bet on assumption, to be patient through confusion (my own and others), and to be okay with imperfection.

Also, my given name is based on a certain X-Men character, and my chosen name is a partial nod to one of my favorite X-Men, Jean Grey. Wasn't intended, but it is a rather fun accident.

when was the last time you cried?

It's been a couple months, but I shan't delve too deep into details.

do you have kids?

Nope-erino, buster

do you use sarcasm a lot?

Never in a day in my life.

what's the first thing you notice about people?

Everyone is weird in some capacity. Everyone. There is always something that makes you stand out from the crowd. So, when meeting others, the first thing that strikes me tends to be whether they wear their Weird on their sleeve or keep it hidden from prying eyes. I hold nothing against those who wish to keep their privacy, though, as someone who is no stranger to the strange, I often prefer the company of the former.

what's your eye colour?

They seem to shift when I'm not looking. Others have told me they are bright blue or a dull grey. Some have said hazel. When I see them, I can only describe the color as that of a grim day's sky.

any special talents?

I understand things that I don't know, and I know things I don't remember. I can also make danishes.

scary movies or happy endings?

Many scary movies have happy endings from the perspective of the killer.

where were you born?

In a hospital.

what are your hobbies?

I love learning. Humans are so fascinating, marine biology is fascinating, space is fascinating, physics is fascinating, the art of weaving stories is fascinating! The world (and beyond) is overflowing with so many wonderful, interesting things. Beyond learning about whatever holds my interest in that given moment, I enjoy playing video games quite a bit, especially with friends. Ffxiv has been my main time-killer as of late.

have any pets?

Yup, my cat Bailey. She's 50% grouchy wine aunt and 50% cuddly fluffball.

what sport do you play/have you played?

Didn't do much sports, played baseball (badly) in elementary school for a little bit.

how tall are you?

5"4'. I've been told I have "pocket sized ancient chaos-god" energy. Haven't the faintest clue why.

favourite subject at school?

My answer is more so influenced by the teacher. I love to learn. Not everyone loves to teach.

dream job?

To be the odd but kind librarian of a grand library by day and a reclusive archivist recording, deciphering, and studying the secrets that mortals be not privy to by night.

tagging: @anthonypanics @zyrafowe-sny @the-paper-furler @kanobarlowe @thelastemuhunter

#gosh I'm getting to this so late #thanks for tagging me tho!

[suofang]

To my dearest (Thorfinn & OC)

•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•

Am I a annoying to you? I know we are very different between us, that bothers you? I want to know.

I never wanted to think about this too much because I feel guilty about it, and being so close to you makes it even harder for me.

Why do you, our saint God, test me like this? Didn't were you who said that the man who lays with another man will burn in Hell because of his sins?

If my body will die and rot... If my soul will burn in the eternal flames... I'll just ask for him to be my punisher, because I can't live knowing that I can harm him like this. Please, get your revenge from me.

Kill me, rip apart my guts and bones and destroy this painful need of be next to you, because I'm not the one who deserves your love, and I'll never be.

How can you be this rough and this beautiful at the same time? You curse a lot, you're easily irritated, you don't give a fuck about anything and anyone, and yet, I can't stop thinking that you have strings made with gold as hair, heh, when you allows me to caress it I don't care if your hair is tangled or not clean enough, to me, it's the silkiest hair someone can have.

And what about your eyes? Those warm brown irises that reminds me of a morning of autumn when the sun hits perfectly against the wooden floor and table of a lonely house. You are an empty house and I want to live there, fill those walls and rooms with decorations and furniture. You know how much I love those things, so as I love them I want to give them to you.

You don't know how good it hurts when I touch your skin, whatever it is your hands or your sweet cheeks. Those briefly moments when I can feel you and I know you're real drowns my heart in honey, a poisoned honey that kills me with each beat of my heart. It's interesting the contrast between your hands and cheeks because, your hands are scarred and hardened of uncountable battles for the chance of a revenge but your cheeks... Your face is so soft, I want to hold it the rest of my life. Your tender skin tempts me to sin, to steal a kiss from you and die in sweet sin, maybe even in your hate...

There are so many things I want to write down on this letter for you that you will never know, mostly because you can't read or write, not even in your own language, so that helps me to express all of my feelings for you in a place you won't suspect about. But if you, some day, learn how to read my feelings, please, don't judge me, I don't know why am I like this and I hate it.

Why do I had to fall in love with you?

Not because of you but because of my condition.

Why did I had to born as a man when my heart is the heart of a lady?

Maybe the angels confused my heart with the heart of someone else when I was in my mother's belly...

Will you hate me? I know I'm giving you my friendship right now even if I want your love, that's not good, a good person won't fall in love with a friend, specially when we're both men.

If you will hate me and you will want to kill me because of that, be fast as always, cut my throat and leave me bleed, but if you want to torture me, open my chest with your daggers and rip my heart from my tórax, I'll give it to you to do whatever you want with it.

But remember, no matter what I will always be here behind you to support you, to hold your back if you're going to fall, and if you find a pretty girl who wants to love you as much as you deserve I'll torn apart, because your happiness is more important than mine. I'm happy if you are happy.

–What are you doing?– There he was, the golden boy who leaves me without breath.

–I'm just writing.

My usual smile comes to my face again as I try to hide all the vivid flowers of my impossible sin.

–Leave that, we're leaving this place.

–Askeladd found someone fool enough to scam?

–Not this time as I heard, I think we're going to a war with England, something about the Danish crown and some bullshit like that...

–The Danish crown?... I don't think we could gain much with this...

To my mind comes all the information I know about recent events that involved Denmark and England as I slowly uncover my letter and fold it as if it wasn't that important.

–Where are we going?

–London. Get ready, we leave when the sun sets.

And he go away again. There will be any time where I can stay more time with him without care about the wars and crowns of the world?

I sigh and look at my letter again, I fold it and save it in my bag. As far as we stay here I can't relive in my feelings even if I want, I have to stay still and be ready for the battle even if I'm just a shoemaker.

I wish I could take you with me, runaway to your dreamed Vinland and marry you to live a peaceful life. You don't deserve this hell.

•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•

I'M HERE AGAIN TO MAKE THIS BOY FEEL AS MUCH PAIN AS POSSIBLE

I don't know why I do this to him but I want to see all of those little moments of Thorfinn being a normal person, you know, such as him cooking, sewing, hunting, taking a walk, jUST HIM BEING A NORMAL PERSON.

And those scenarios will be feat. ma boy Siegfried who is my way to express all the love and appreciation I feel towards this blond who probably have rabies, plus my love for drama because

✨I'm a drama queen✨

#thorfinn #oc #vinland saga #oneshot #angst

[hoghtastic]

These are the translations for the Danish reddit:

„Met him at Proud Mary, where he was very stiff and told me that he probably had sex with almost half of the female cast in Vikings, and that they all do it more or less crosswise.“

„I have also met him in connection with an event that I helped organize. There he was sweet, but also a bit of the

"smart in a hurry" type. Much like that should charm all the ladies. Told me I looked good 😅“

„My friend had something going on with him a few months ago.

He's really cute, but boyfriend potential; not so much. There he felt superior to her, and his work was most important.“

„Been there a few times but no date☺️ but can say he took it

The sex was damn good, but I wasn't a fan of all parts 😅“

„There are only slightly wild things he likes in bed, say no more😅“

„Han er et godt knald, men lige vild nok til mig“ (my translation makes no sense, maybe yours will) he is a good banger something…

„I don't think he's anything special. He looks like an ordinary potato guy, but he's a good actor“

„I met him in 2018 in Fredericia where I live, I was out walking with my newborn, Alex was going to the theater with two friends to see the Prince of Egypt @ he is simply so polite!!!! Tall, fresh and smart, white shoes, a cowboy jacket thrown over his shoulder and he had a slight limp because he was injured playing basketball.

He's shy but yeah, just so cool!!

Don't know if it's gossip, I just remember it so clearly!

Especially because I was wearing a pink pig nightgown..“

Anon to anon, in response to this ask. 😊

Thank you so much for sharing! These are rather interesting! 😉☕️

#anon asks #anon to anon

[askfanden]

About this blog - info :>

◻️ Welcome to my little ask blog where I draw a large portion of my inspirations from Scandinavian (though admittedly from a mostly Norwegian centered view) folklore, folk beliefs, and history through the perspective of, and how the Scandinavian devil, Fanden\Fan\Faen, as they are called was perceived.

Here you will also meet a few other characters who are both friendly and unfriendly. Human and not. Feel free to ask them questions as well if you’re interested in them, though it’d be nice if you clarified who you’re asking about. 

◻️ The blog’s host is called Termite, and I go by They\Them pronouns. :>

That’s about all you need to know about me, hahaw. I just have a special interest and find the whole process of the Viking age, Christianization, witch persecutions, folklore and folk tales wholly FASCINATING. Concepts doesn’t stem from nothing and knowing even just a few parts of it slots things into interesting places.

I’m just here to bring SOME of my ideas to life, hahaw.

◻️ Here you can expect the occasional comic about either a personal story of my making, a visualization of a folkloric concept, or a retelling of folk tales, Fun facts, and all that fun stuff. And of course questions I answer whenever I am lucky enough to get them, hahaw! 

◻️  The way I answer questions is that I go through a 4 answer options (though deviations might happen):

1: If the question doesn’t spark much VISUAL inspiration, I’ll answer through text. Maybe I will at a later time retroactively draw something when the inspiration strikes.  2: A visualized, but straight forward answer that acknowledges the questioner.  3: A comic written to be ca about the question that will answer it, even if the answer itself won’t acknowledge the question and might be left a bit open ended. Think of it as a snippet of a story.  4: OOC \ Blog related requests are fun too.

If you want to ask the person behind the blog, please phrase your question as ‘’OOC: [insert thing you want to say here]’’ or ‘’To the Mun\Termite’’, I’ll more than happily ramble about whatever.

◻️ Small rules to follow, I’ll be brief:

-Don’t spam. If you’re afraid Tumblr ate your ask, I’d be happy if you’d say so in the follow up ask. ^^

-Be respectful and don’t send in explicit NSFW questions. I am ok with NSFW themes (on my own terms) but keep it reasonable.

- Don’t send me fetish related questions or requests. Even non-sexual ones as I don’t consent to it.

- Please understand that IC =/= OOC.

- I I do not consent to anyone reposting, using the art I create, or turn my art into NFT’s. Unless I draw explicitly FOR YOU, my art is all mine.

- I can do mistakes, and while they’re never intentional, may happen. I might misinterpret a source, translate something wrong (gods I hate old danish-Norwegian and dialect texts... Norwegian might be my first language BUT WHY DO THEY SPELL IT ALL LIKE THAT), and accidentally not see through historical bias. I am just mentioning that, so that if you notice something like it, that you’ll hopefully understand it’s not from a place of malice.

- If you have any neat book recommendations on Scandinavian history and folklore, GIMME.

◻️ Most of, but unfortunately not all, of my sources I’ll likely draw from:

-Prose Edda -Poetic Edda -The history of the Danes - Saxo Grammaticus

- The Unmanly Man: Concepts of Sexual Defamation in Early Northern Society (The Viking Collection, Studies in Northern Civilization , Vol 1) - Preben Meulengracht Sorensen - Valkyrie: The Women of the Viking World - Jóhanna Katrín Friðriksdóttir - Women in Old Norse Society: A Portrait - Jenny Jochens - Old Norse Masculinities - Gareth Lloyd Evans, Jessica Clare Hancock - Men and Masculinities in the Sagas of Icelanders -  Gareth Lloyd Evans -Women and weapons in the viking world - Leszek Gardeła - The viking way: Magic and mind in late iron age Scandinavia - Neil Price - Viking Friendship: The Social Bond in Iceland and Norway, C. 900-1300 - Sigurðsson, Jón Viðar - Viking Law and Order: Places and Rituals of Assembly in the Medieval North - Sanmark, Alexandra - Thraldom A History of Slavery in the Viking Age - Stefan Brink - https://www.academia.edu/7617134/Magic_beyond_the_binary_magic_and_gender_in_the_Poetic_Edda - https://www.academia.edu/30273992/Eddic_Poetry_A_Gateway_to_Late_Iron_Age_Ladies_of_Law - https://www.academia.edu/38896844/Children_of_a_One_Eyed_God_Impairment_in_the_Myth_and_Memory_of_Medieval_Scandinavia - https://www.academia.edu/2896380/Ability_and_Disability_On_Bodily_Variations_and_Bodily_Possibilities_in_Viking_Age_Myth_and_Image

- Tree of Salvation: Yggdrasil and the Cross in the North - Murphy, G. Ronald -Power and Conversion: A Comparative Study of Christianization in Scandinavia - Sanmark, Alexandra -Medieval Christianity in the North: New Studies - Jorgensen, Torstein -The Germanization of Early Medieval Christianity: A Sociohistorical Approach to Religious Transformation - Russell, James C.

-''Remedies and Rituals: Folk medicine in Norway and the new land'' - Kathleen Stokker ''Witchcraft and Magic in the Nordic Middle Ages'' - Stephen A. Mitchell ''Trolldom: Spells and Methods of the Norse folk magic tradition'' - Johannes Björn Gårdbäck ''Medicine, Magic, and art in Early modern Norway'' by Ane Ohrvik

-’'Å leve med døden : folkelige forestillinger om døden og de døde'' by Bjarne Hodne  (Death, funeral rituals, beliefs, and magic connected to death) -''Merkedager og gamle skikker'' by Per Holc (holidays) -Gamle folkelige værvarsler : 1700 værmerker fra hele landet (Weather signs\folk magic) -Kjærlighetsmagi : folketro om forelskelse, erotikk og ekteskap (love magic) -''Djevelens livshistorie : scener fra en travel tilværelse'' (Stuff about the devil) -Slik levde de da -  Hanne Marie Johansen -Skeive linjer i norsk historie fra norrøn tid til i dag -  Hanne Marie Johansen - Livets høytider : skikker og overtro fra vugge til grav

List will probably be updated as I read more or remember what else I’ve read.

#ooc #not an ask #ask blog #askblog #oc ask blog #oc askblog #info #about the mun

[tangleduplnblue]

I'm coming out of my tomb to tell you that I have a special place reserved in my heart for my Danish husbands Mads Mikkelsen, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau and Viggo Mortensen 🥰

#i mean i wanna marry them all #danish men have something special #i just can't explain #mads mikkelsen #nikolaj coster waldau #viggo mortensen #my heart is full of love ☺😚

[sinistercarnival]

Favorite Danish folklore I grew up with

Lygtemænd (the lantern men): Like will-o’-the-wisp, jack o’lantern and similar... Nobody really knows who or what they are. They are small creatures with lights (probably lanterns) that are moving around in marshes and swampy fields at night. Never follow them. If you follow them, you’ll never be seen again. They will probably lead you further out into the marshes where you drown. Don’t even look at them, because you may get the urge to follow the light. If you’re lost, you can however pay them (by leaving money at the roadside) to lead you back home - if you’re brave enough.

Åmanden (the river man): He lives in the rivers and lakes, and prevents overflow and floods, but needs an annual human sacrifice (aka drowned people) in return. He looks like a very beautiful young man, but has sharp teeth. If he hasn’t got his sacrifice, he will lure people into the river. He can sound like a crying baby, to make you go search for an abandoned baby at the shores, or he plays the violin so beautifully that you will follow the sound into the water, where he will drown you. Never go near a river at night or dawn!

Helhesten (the hell horse): So the first soul buried on a new grave yard will resurrect and haunt the grave yard. Because of this, the first soul buried was often not a person but a living animal, most often a horse. This hellhorse has three legs, sometimes it’s beheaded, and it brings people illness and death. When you see it, you will die. If you hear a horse neigh or stomp on a grave yard, don’t look up! Never! Never go to a graveyard at night.

De underjordiske from Bornholm (the underground ones): basically small trolls. They live on the island Bornholm in mounds, hills, cliffs or big rocks. They are small creatures, very smart and have an almost human-like farmer lifestyle. They are usually friendly and peaceful, but may be troublesome, if you dig in their mound or e.g. let your animals walk around on their home. They can also kidnap, or switch your baby out with one of their people and make him look like the baby. The new baby will become more and more ugly, stop growing, never learn to speak and eat A LOT. The only way to expose it, is to tell it something so stupid and ridiculous that it gets flabbergasted. If you visit the island ask a local - almost everyone knows somebody that met the underjordiske or had an encounter themselves.

Nisser: kind of small household gods. They are little dwarf-like creatures that live hidden in your house, typically on the loft or in the stables, if you have a farm. Usually they are helpful and some sort of nice warden, but if you treat them bad, they may trouble you. You should leave a bowl of rice pudding for them on the loft, especially at Christmas. Some may also be humorous and hide your stuff, so you think you replaced it, then they are called Drillenisse (mocking nisse).

Elverfolket (elves): They live in forests, glades and mounds and are known for their beauty and their feasts. The very beautiful elver women will typically dance around their mound looking outwards in misty nights, so you can see their beauty, but in their backs they are hollow like an old tree trunk. If you join their dance and feast, they will never let you go. Stay away from them and from their mounds and they will be peaceful. Their king is very powerful, but if you’re respectful and keep the elverfolks homes safe, he may in return bless your land.

Mosekonen (the marsh witch): She is an troll-like woman who lives in a hidden cabin in the marshes. She is known for brewing something in a big kettle, but nobody really knows what. Probably a special brew for their party’s (e.g. for Walpurgis Night). You will know that she is brewing, when there is fog and mist over the marshes. She gets help from the Lygtemænd with her fire, so you shouldn’t go out there to find her, as you may drown.

Havfolk/ nøkker (sea people): Human like creatures (like mermaids) that live in the sea and might have fish-like features like a fish tail. The women are very beautiful, sing very lovely, and may lure men into the water and (not necessarily willful) drown them as they take them into their underwater home. The havfolk may come out of the water and look human, but they will always be wet. The men can transform into a big black or white horse that comes out of the sea at night and rushes along the beach. They may lure you to climb and ride, but will then ride directly into the sea and drown you. Stay away from the sea at night to be safe, and if you hear someone singing at the sea, quickly cover your ears with your hands!

#danish folklore #danish myths #nordic folklore #fae #fair folk #nature spirits #scandinavian folklore #folklore #myths #elves #nøkken #nisse #helhesten #will-o-the-wisp #witches

[alexbkrieger13]

New Interview with P

https://www.mirror.co.uk/sport/football/news/pernille-harder-denmark-chelsea-euros-29482852.amp

Pernille Harder opens up on "tough" injury battle as she eyes England World Cup clash

Harder has missed half of the season through injury and is out of contract in the summer - but gave an update on her return to fitness with the 2023 FIFA World Cup also looming this summer

Chelsea's Denmark international Pernille Harder has opened up on her battle to return to fitness as she aims to return ahead of a crunch World Cup meeting with England this summer.

Denmark face the Lionesses, who are vying to secure a second major international title after winning the Euros last summer, on July 28 in Sydney. Both will be looking to get out of Group D, which also contains China and play-off qualifiers Haiti. Although she hasn't put an exact timeframe on her return, Harder is hoping to play her par

"My recovery is going really good," she told Mirror Football. "Everything has gone as planned with the rehab. It was a big injury unfortunately - but generally I've been lucky for so long throughout my career. It was tough.

"I could feel it right away, I couldn't even walk so knew something was wrong. It wasn't a surprise it was a big injury. But everything so far has gone the way it should, I'm back on the training pitch working with the physios.

"I'm increasing my intensity week-by-week and feel good. My focus now is just to get match fit. Obviously, it isn't a case of going straight on the pitch and then I'll be ready to play full games. My hamstring will have to get used to the intensity and the load, but we're increasing that every week now.

"Of course it is always special to play against the country where you are playing, and at the World Cup itself, so I want to get back. I'm really excited about it. I know it will be really difficult because England are in great form and have been for a few years now.

"So it will be a challenge, but it will also be a really big experience for our team."

Harder's native Denmark are also currently part of a joint-Nordic bid to host Euro 2025, with the final decision set to be made on April 4 and she is firmly supporting their campaign to host the tournament. And the Chelsea attacker, who scored the Danes only goal at the last European Championships, believes it would transform women's football in her home country.

"It (if the bid wins) would be a huge boost," said Harder. "I think it could start a really good development of the women's game in Denmark.

"It would give a lot to the domestic league. But also it would be huge for kids across Denmark, to see a Euros at home. It would give a lot of dreams to that next generation. It would be a real kickstart for the development of our domestic game, which has already started.

"I think for all the Nordics we have some really good values that will hopefully show in the tournament. We can use the best of each country, which we help the women's game.

"I think our fans deserve it, it would be amazing to give the Danish fans some tournament games at home and feel the atmosphere. It would be a national party around the games. We are good at that, we saw it for the men's Euros games in Copenhagen, and I'm sure it will be the same for the women's Euros."

"It would give a lot to the domestic league. But also it would be huge for kids across Denmark, to see a Euros at home. It would give a lot of dreams to that next generation. It would be a real kickstart for the development of our domestic game, which has already started.

"I think for all the Nordics we have some really good values that will hopefully show in the tournament. We can use the best of each country, which we help the women's game.

"I think our fans deserve it, it would be amazing to give the Danish fans some tournament games at home and feel the atmosphere. It would be a national party around the games. We are good at that, we saw it for the men's Euros games in Copenhagen, and I'm sure it will be the same for the women's Euros."

#pernille harder #chelsea fcw #denwnt #chelsea article

[stephspurs]

ONLY ANGEL - A John Stones Fanfiction

STEPHSPURS. - THE MASTERLIST ONLY ANGEL - FANFICTION MASTERLIST

The lights go down, the room turns dark, a murmur of people still trying to find their seats settles into the otherwise silence. The floor to ceiling screen behind the runway awakens to show a video montage of arguably the most famous supermodels in the world. “It’s difficult being a woman, and other women understand that...but it’s also fun to be a woman and I think we should be able to own that”

The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show is unlike any other in the world, it is the equivalent of the SuperBowl for supermodels. Bodies like Gisele Bundchen, Heidi Klum, Tyra Banks, grace the runway year in year out for the most-celebrated lingerie event in the runway calendar. A change of scenery for the traditionally American-based fashion show saw the glittery stage set up and a plethora of beautiful women touch down in London town.

Josephine Andersen, a 25 year old Danish-born supermodel found herself sitting backstage in hair and makeup, in a scantily-clad lingerie set with the iconic barely-there silk wrap adorned with the famous branding across the back of her shoulders and ‘Angel Josephine’ across her left side, right above her beating heart. Make no mistake, Josephine was meant to be here. She had worked hard every single day since the last runway event that she was fortunate enough to have walked in for the lingerie brand, to prove her rightful place as an Angel.

Yes, success is the direct result of hard work - and there was no denying that Josephine was a hard worker. She knew that she wasn’t special, and like most, she would have to work for what she wanted out of her life. What she didn’t know before going into the modelling industry at the ripe old age of 13, was that it was as mentally challenging as it was physical. Everyday was a constant battle between her head, her heart, and her agent. Nevertheless, she was aware of how difficult it was to be a woman, but she was also aware of just how fun it could be too.

John Stones, a 27 year old Barnsley-born (although his mate Kyle Walker would argue the point that his postcode says Sheffield but that's a story for another time) footballer for Manchester City Football Club, found himself sitting front row of the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show in London. He had never attended an event quite like it before, his mates sat either side of him ready to enjoy the spectacle that he didn’t think he would ever have the pleasure of attending. With the current season underway and the fact that his home club was a whole 4 hour drive away from his current location, it was a small miracle that the group of lads from Manchester were allowed to attend at all. These boys were down for a night of beautiful women, lingerie and getting up to no good.

The music started, the screen went black, the crowd erupted in applause for the first model through the parting screen - Angel Josephine. Strutting down the runway to Harry Styles' live version of Only Angel, John was mesmerised by the woman before him. She was working the crowd, sensual glances, little smirks, a cheeky grin here and there. Standing at the end of the runway, facing the abundance of cameras, Josephine gave her best smile and a confident wink to the camera before tossing her hair over her shoulder and proceeding to walk back up the runway.

John hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of the girl, he wasn’t sure he had blinked since she stepped foot out on the runway - if he closed his eyes for just a millisecond he would miss too much. He was addicted to her beauty, never having seen something so ethereal in his life. Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was the champagne, but he honestly believed that there was an angel before him. Following her with his eyes as she walked back towards where he was seated, he made eye contact with her and she held it. Sending him a wink, and blowing him a kiss before smirking to herself and exiting the stage. She had no idea the effect that she had on the otherwise cocky man, she had reduced him to a puddle of mush, too intimidated by her beauty. The moment she was out of his sight, it was like he could breathe again, the sound that was previously muted around him returned to its full volume and his tunnel vision had widened to take in the whole show. Taking another sip of his champagne, he caught the eye of his best friend Kyle (yes, the same Kyle from earlier) who smirked and gave him a pat on the shoulder. Kyle had seen the whole interaction, albeit limited and largely one sided, and knew exactly what kind of trouble his friend could get himself into here.

Backstage Josephine was being ushered from the runway to the small curtain that was hanging from a clothes rack, providing a make-shift dressing room for her to strip off of the current segments undergarments and into the next set that had been so kindly draped over the top rail by one of the wardrobe assistants. Normally she would be thriving under the fast paced nature of the evening, the adrenaline pumping through her veins like a drug, however she was encumbered by her own thoughts of the devilishly handsome man in the front row. His eyes were engraved in the back of her mind, when she shut her own eyes she could see the intensity of his stare - it was numbing her, slowing her down. She was desperate for another glance at him, being brought back into the moment by the yell of a backstage hand asking for her to hurry and get into her next wings, she stripped and redressed. Was she lightheaded from the pressure that she had placed on herself to prepare for the evening, or was it because he seemed to take up all of the air in the room and space in her brain? She could argue that she was fulfilling her role as an Angel by winking at him and blowing him a little kiss. It was her job to flirt with the crowd and put on a show after all, but she knew exactly what her intentions were and they were nothing but devilish.

Perhaps the only event more iconic than the fashion show itself, the afterparty was what most people involved in the show looked forward to. The humans, even with their celebrity status, had the opportunity to mix with the angels - who, for one night only, let go of their halos and swapped them for horns. For one night, the beautiful women of the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show in all of their angelic glory; could be as bad as they dared to. This was the unspoken truth of the after party, and if you had the fortune of being able to attend, it was not an event easily passed up.

John found himself once again surrounded by his mates, mingling with the models and his celebrity pals alike. Not once had he forgotten about the first angel he had ever laid eyes on, he didn’t even know her name but by God did he know her body. It was as though the 30-odd seconds she was before him his eyes scanned her from head to toe, every curve of her body engraved into his memory. He could remember how the light reflected off of the body shimmer she had bathed in before walking the runway, how the curve of her waist continued at the perfect degree to complete her perfectly-sized derriere. Before long, he felt the room get smaller and smaller, the air was thicker and his hearing had started to muffle. She was standing in his direct line of sight - not that it would matter if she was standing on the other side of the room, behind a crowd of people, John’s eyes would find and fixate on her.

John watched as she worked the room, obligatory pleasantries flowing from her lips as she double kissed the cheeks of men who were old enough to be her grandfather. He watched their leather-like hands wrap themselves around her lower back, too low for his liking. He watched her smile and pretend that she was comfortable, but he could see the look behind her eyes scream that she shouldn’t trust their words - that they didn’t want to just buy her a drink. Without realising, his hands started to curl around his scotch glass until he had to put it down on the table before him and excuse himself from the company of his friends and the new company they had invited to their table. Weaving his way through the crowd, eyes never leaving the side of her face, he began to make his way towards her. No plan of action, nothing to say, anything would be good enough in an attempt to rescue her from what is looking to be her own personal version of hell. As though the universe had willed it, she looked into the crowd and locked onto the gaze of the tall man who was currently striding towards her. The look on his face told everyone around them that they weren’t to get in his way, to mess with him.

Reaching her, she held her breath and waited for his next steps. Josephine didn’t know what to expect, but the handsome smile that erupted from his previously pursed lips and filled up his face had sent her heart into a frenzy. For just that moment, she chose to believe that that smile was reserved for her and only her. Reaching forward and coincidentally knocking the older man’s arm from around her waist and replacing it with his own, he leant forward and planted a loud kiss to her cheek before wrapping her in a hug that warmed her soul. Her whole body pushed into his, she was unable to see his face but she could hear his heart and it told her that she was safe.

“I’m so proud of you, babe. I reckon I'm the luckiest guy in the room to be able to call you my girlfriend” He said into her ear, loud enough for the group of older men to hear and begin to talk amongst themselves after realising they had no chance with the Danish beauty, not that she ever gave them that impression to begin with.

Pulling away from the tall man, she looked up at him and gave him her best smile, a sincere smile. She ran her hands down from his back and found his hands that were placed on her waist, lacing their fingers together and pulling him off into the crowd to the bar.

“So, boyfriend, do you have a name?” She spoke whilst picking up the vodka on the rocks - not her favourite drink but it had little to no calories and anything that had a calorie count lower than her weight, which was difficult enough to find in the first place, was a win in her eyes.

“John, but I prefer to be called your boyfriend, even if it's only for one night” John spoke back to her, looking down at the angel who had covered herself up a bit more since the last time he had the pleasure of looking at her. However, the outfit she was currently wearing still allowed John’s mind, and eyes, to wander. A secret moment shared between the two in an overcrowded room.

PART 2. (smut warning)

#only angel fic #football imagine #football fanfic #football fic #john stones #john stones fanfic #john stones imagine #football one shot #john stones x reader #kyle walker #kyle walker imagine #kyle walker fanfic #x reader #england nt imagine #three lions imagine #three lions #england football #england national team #steph writes #stephspurs #ben chilwell #mason mount #declan rice #jack grealish

[inmyfxith]

Link, Part VII

Pairing: Ragnarssons x sister!reader

A/N: Did I cry? I bet you already know the answer.

Words: 2 179

Part. I, Part. II, Part. III, Part. IV, Part. V, Part. VI, Part. VII, Part. VIII.

Not a day went by that you didn't think about what had become of Lagertha, Torvi, Bjorn, and Ubbe. Every night you waited desperately for the Gods to grant you the right to see something related to your family, but your only visions were about the future of your new community.

Only a few days after your return, you had given birth to a beautiful little boy, and as he became the most important person in your eyes, it was obvious that he had to bear the name of his predecessor. Your husband had no choice. You were an accommodating woman, accepting without complaint most of the time, but when it came to this little one, it was up to you and you alone.

You had traveled all over Denmark and across the sea to England where your community was threatening the land and property of the King of Wessex after setting up a temporary camp in Reading. Despite the constant worry you felt, you were finally happy. Your husband was a good man, a berserker for sure, but he always put your needs before his own, or at least on the same level as his.

Your meeting had been a complete coincidence, as you were living as a Skogarmaor, on the fringe of society, never staying in one place for very long. You had come face to face with a small pack of wolves that had left a gift on your face. Killing two wolves in a row was not such a complex thing for you, but things got more complicated beyond that number. You were probably going to get killed, but your future husband arrived like a savior, freeing you from the fangs of one of the wolves while his men chased the beasts that had finally fled.

He didn't know at once who you were, your name being less known than your brothers', you could pass unnoticed in most Norwegian, Swedish, and Danish towns. He introduced himself as one of the head kings of a confederation of Danes who wanted only one thing, to become as famous as the great Ragnar Lothbrok.

In your tent, caring for your son, one of your husband's warriors joined you, claiming that the king wanted to see you. Holding your sleeping child as gently as possible, your eyes did not leave his soothed face as you walked to the spot he had indicated.

"...I bet you know my wife." Angantyr joked sitting around a table, still accompanied by Kings Frodo and Hemming and you were sure he was addressing them.

"Don't speak too loudly, Ubbe has only just fallen asleep..." You stopped when, facing you, you recognized your older brother. At first, you thought you were dreaming because your brother was accompanied only by Torvi.

"I am perfectly awake." He responded, glad to see that you were right the last time you left each other. Taking a few steps to approach him, you didn't know what to say. Lowering your eyes to your son, your brother perceived your sudden discomfort before turning back to the three kings at the head of your community to continue the discussion. You took a seat around the table after placing your hand on Torvi's shoulder.

Ubbe spoke well. His choice of words was thoughtful. He had all the makings of a leader. You didn't follow the conversation, gently cradling your son. When your husband left to discuss the decision, you stayed behind to talk to your newfound family.

As with every reunion, you hugged each other before Ubbe asked you to allow him to carry his nephew in his arms. This vision warmed your heart, and you hoped that, although too young to realize it, your son already felt the special protection his uncle offered him.

"He is named after the most important person in my life. I admit that this is a bit hard for the king to take, but he finally came around after some explanations. He didn't have a choice anyway."

"Why him?" Ubbe asked. You understood very well that he was talking about Angantyr.

"He saved my life. The scar on my mouth was made by wolves, I managed to kill one and he killed the other two."

Not taking into account your answer, Ubbe's smile grew wider as, slowly waking up, your child stared at him with his ocean blue eyes. Sitting beside you, Torvi has turned to you.

"I thought you didn't want to go back to England." You nodded before sighing.

"That's right, I didn't want to go back. This country makes me think about what happened. To Ragnar's death, to Sigurd's death. This is also where the family split up. Speaking of family, how are Bjorn and Lagertha doing? And Hali and Asa?" You asked, anxious to know the fate the gods had in store for them. Casting a furtive glance at her husband, Torvi sighed before briefly telling you what had happened to them all in England.

"Lagertha disappeared in battle, I don't know where she is but I'm sure she's fine. At least I hope so. Bjorn has joined King Harald in the North, your brother wants to take Kattegat from Ivar. And, as for my children, they are adjusting, they have to." Stroking the back of her hand with your thumb, you smiled sadly at him.

"No matter what decision they make, you will always be welcome among us."

You did not wish to witness the fight between your brother and King Frodo. Both were excellent fighters and, contrary to the other fights you had seen, the outcome was not obvious. And yet, when Ubbe's victory was reported to you, you were not surprised. With King Frodo dead, he could no longer oppose the agreement that was about to take effect. King Alfred, the new king of Wessex, offered you land to build a settlement.

Following, on horseback, your husband, Lagertha, Torvi, and King Alfred, a new page of your history was about to be written. You never thought you were meant for a quiet life, owning a farm, but the closer your horse got to the land you were going to settle, the more pleasant that thought became.

Leaving your son with one of your maids, you approached King Alfred.

"This is a beautiful place you are giving us here. I know how difficult it must be for you to have your lands invaded by heathens like us." You walked next to each other, you knew where this king was from, his origins. Athelstan's story had been passed down through the generations to the point of becoming a children's tale.

"You said my brother gave us this, but even so, I feel indebted to you. Therefore, if one day you need us for any reason, advice, to defend what is yours or to invade who knows, you can call on us. And even if my husband doesn't agree, you can count on me." Stopping, Alfred turned to look at you.

"I appreciate your offer, and I want you to know that the same goes for you." Laying eyes on the cross he wore around his neck, you suddenly felt drawn to it. Without understanding why you took her in your hands and suddenly the tears came. Such a small object held so many memories, fears, sadness, joy. You could hear the voices of Ragnar and Athelstan as whispers behind you.

"Is everything alright?" Removing your hand from his chest, you wiped your tears with the back of your hand before smiling at him.

"You and I have more in common than you think. And that cross you wear around your neck is a symbol of the bond between our families. Please know that I have nothing against your god and that we will be happy to welcome Christians in this settlement." Probably out of jealousy, your husband joined you after a quick tour of the place. Putting his arm around your waist, he entered the conversion, thanking King Alfred in turn in a less sincere manner than yours.

"As soon as we have prospered a little and grown our first crops, I hope you and your wife will agree to come and visit us. We'll do something for the occasion."

"We'll pray to the gods and make sacrifices." Angantyr added, not realizing that he might offend Alfred. The King of Wessex smiled shyly, not knowing where to stand in regards to this strange invitation.

"Don't worry, we won't force you to attend this part of the evening. You can pray to your god with your people."

Hearing your son cry, you apologized to the two kings, before going to console the first grandson of Aslaug. The more the days passed, the more the features of his face reminded you of his uncle's.

You had received, days later, the news that Ubbe and Torvi were returning home after helping King Alfred. And this time you knew. You knew it was the last time. You took a horse and rode as fast as you could to the castle of the King of Wessex, hoping to arrive in time.

The courtyard of the castle was full, but in the distance, you recognized Ubbe's badly battered face preparing his horse for departure. He smiled when he saw you.

"Have you come to wish me luck?"

"I came to say farewell."Your tone was serious, you had no desire to do this, yet something urged you to do so. Frowning, Ubbe turned to you, stopping what he was doing.

"What do you mean? We're going to see each other again, you said so. Our paths will cross again." You nodded negatively, lowering your head to hide the sadness that suddenly overtook you. You were not alone, King Alfred and his family were indirectly witnessing your conversation.

"Not this time." Understanding the seriousness of the situation, he didn't ask you any questions and he hugged you. Laying his hand behind your head, letting you cry against his chest. You stayed glued to him for several minutes, unable to formulate a single sentence but time was pressing on him.

"You're the one I spent the best years of my life with. And I could never repay you for everything you gave me. Saying goodbye to you is the most complicated thing I've ever done. I love you, brother, with all my heart. And know that you take a part of my heart with you, I will never stop thinking about you. I remind my son every morning why he has the name he has, and even though he doesn't quite understand what I'm telling him yet, I know in my heart that one day he will be proud to know why his name is so important."

Placing a kiss on your forehead, Ubbe wiped away your tears before taking you in his arms one last time.

"You will succeed in what you started to build, I am not afraid for you because I know you are well surrounded. Your husband and King Alfred will be there to support you. No matter where the gods take us, no matter if they decided to separate us. You are still my little sister and I will always protect you. I am proud of you, I have never told you that but I have always been. Take care of yourself and your family."

Ubbe stepped aside, letting Torvi say goodbye. You had experienced so much with each other that you knew each other much better than either of you realized. Taking her in your arms, you whispered to her to stay strong for her children, and to take care of your brother even though you knew she would do it better than anyone. Approaching Hali and Asa, you knelt before them, taking one of their hands in yours.

"I hope you remember what I told you in Kattegat. Be there for each other, never turn your backs even though I know it's hard sometimes. You will understand later how important it is to have a good relationship with your siblings." You kissed their hand before letting them go. Facing them, you took a deep breath before giving them a confident smile.

"I will look forward to the arrival of the Norwegian merchants and their news about you. Farewell, my beloved ones, we will meet each other again and we will feast in the presence of the Allfather."

Your farewell to Lagertha was brief but with as much emotion. Lagertha had taught you to become a real woman without replacing your mother. The animosity that Ivar had always felt towards her, you had never shared.

"I bet where they are your parents are proud of you. Just like I am. Stay strong. The world needs more women like you."

Thanking King Alfred for letting you stay for the farewell, you watched your family drift away. Not allowing yourself to cry again until you were alone on your way home.

#vikings #vikings imagine #vikings imagines #ubbe #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe lothbrok #torvi #queen lagertha #lagertha #bjorn #bjorn ironside #ragnarssons x reader #ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #hvitserk #hvitserk ragnarsson #Alfred #king alfred

[wolfpants]

hi! I cannot wait for the led by light epilogue and the subsequent re-read I will be doing, "hello, darling" is still on a loop in my brain <33

was just wondering if you'd talk about your research process for writing a bit? (if you want!!) you create such amazing settings and atmosphere in your fics and that can be so difficult with period pieces, but it's so authentic the way you do it!

what kinds of things do you look for when researching? do you have specific details from the time period you're seeking out or is it just whatever you stumble across? also - the language and clothing ahh it's all perfect!

(this is so long sorry oops!)

Hello love! Or should I say... darling.

Sorry, couldn't help myself there.

I can and absolutely will talk about my research when writing; I'm by no means an expert in, well, anything to be honest (writing OR research), but this is the way I go about things and hopefully it paints a bit of a clearer picture and maybe can help some others when it comes to researching for their own stories.

My specific research for Led by Light

So it's a bit of a special case with Led by Light because it's a time period that I'm personally very interested in (mid-century Britain, and more specifically mid-century cultural history and mid-century design history), so I already had a bit of a foundation there that I could dip into: literature from the era (Highsmith, of course), films from and about the era (Breakfast at Tiffany's, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, John Wayne and Doris Day movies, Mad Men, A Very English Scandal, A Single Man, these were all at some point referenced or had some sort of influence on the fic), my various visits to museums (I thought a lot about Danish design, for example, in Sirius's townhouse in Chelsea, and I've been lucky enough to visit Designmuseum Denmark in Copenhagen, where I got to see some original 1950s and 1960s furniture; the V&A in London also has a very nice collection).

If you remember earlier on in the fic, Sirius and Remus pay a visit to the British Museum. The British Museum in the 1950s/1960s was a lot different to how it is today, and that’s something I had to do some reading into online (on the official website, and a few architecture sites that I found). For example, the British Library, which Remus talks about briefly, hadn’t been built yet: it was still part of the British Museum, and it was closed off to the public. When Remus and Sirius met, there were talks of giving it its own site, and that’s what we know it as today: the British Library next to St Pancras, which is open for public use. I didn’t know this before I wrote the fic, but it was important for me to get it accurate (I am a bit of a pedant but I am by no means perfect either so there is always room for error and like I said, I don't want to paint myself as some sort of expert because I am not!), so this is why Remus talks about one day wanting to become part of that project. Alas, he ends up getting a teaching role at the V&A, but I personally think that suits him better anyway.

Similarly, even though I’ve been to the British Museum myself many many times, I did a lot of digging online on their website to find out more about Sutton Hoo and when it was found, and what that display might have looked like in the early 1960s, as it was still quite a new find back then (it was discovered just before WWII I believe).

For other bits and bobs of info, I found a few personal blogs from people who grew up in the UK in the 1950s and 1960s to get some first hand accounts on what life was like (this is where I discovered the term “party line” - did you know that most people were sharing phonelines back in the day? Because I didn’t!). For music, discarding my own passion for the era, I looked up what was popular in the charts (lots of Cliff Richard and Elvis, basically), but also what people were listening to on the fringes. I read about coffee bars and where the “hip” kids used to hang out, all from blogs and first hand accounts that I found online. It’s usually a case of me googling something like “where did young people hang out in London in X era”. And then I’ll fall down a rabbit hole.

If you have access to academic journals, they’re also worth a gander. I used these for some archaeological research (particularly thinking about Remus’s field trip in Orkney - what were they researching in the 1960s? What were the topics academics were interested in)?

There is so much more. And like I mentioned, I’m not an expert in this. Just a boffin who has a genuine love for history anyway, so that certainly helps.

But I hope this is insightful!

#ask #mutuals #slytherinreggieblack #thank you! #meta #writing #led by light #this is a huge ramble I am sorry

[alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom]

Chapter I: What a gentleman!

Thank you @flowers-in-your-hayr​ for this amazing moodboard! You’re such a talent!

a/n: This is my first ff, that’s why it’s not that long. English is not my first language, so I am sorry for mistakes. 

Paring: ALEX x Reader

Spotify: Kiana Ledé & Jacquees - Only Fan

No warnings (smut incoming), fluff, fluff and more fluff.

Words: 918

Summary:   Your best friend Ana and you are doing a trip to Copenhagen. You met there two good looking guys. This city became after this evening very special for you.

Ana and you just ended your nurse school at the university. She was your best friend and you knew her since the high school. It was so a stressful time with all the exams and full schedule. So you decided to do a city trip. Ana and you were already in a few big cities, so you booked a flight to Copenhagen. It was one of the cities you didn't see in Europe. The flight was very short so you didn't sleep in the airplane. After the landing you took a taxi to this wonderful hotel. You were not rich at all, but you wanted the best hotel for this week, just because you deserved it after this stressful years as a student.

Ana wanted to go out, even if you didn't have dinner and landed late. It was Saturday and the only flight to Copenhagen on this day. You searched in the internet for a good pub a found one in the near of your hotel called "Mermaid's pub". So you took a shower, put new clothes on and refreshed your make-up. Ana already waited for you in the lobby bar.

You walked down the street to the pub. They were full of people in your age. 

,,The men here are really tall"  You commented to Ana and were surprised how attractive this was. You entered in the pub and were shocked by all the people, most of them drunk.

,,We're never gonna find a seat here" Ana wasn't a patient person.

You walked into the crowd and looked for a free table. Exactly at this moment you saw in the corner of the pub, how three women stood up and went. You hurried. It was a table for four but you didn't care. It was warm and the air was stuffy despite the door being open.

Two extremely good-looking guys came to your table and said something you absolutely didn't understand. Firstable they spoke Danish and even if it was English you couldn't understand it because of the loud music. Ana just nodded and they sat down next to you.

"Why did you nod?"

"What else should I have done? We don't understand them anyway." She was right.

,,Jeg hedde Alex’’  You didn’t know what to say. The situation made you feel totally insecure and you blushed.

,, Jeg….. ehm…taler ikke….ehmm…dansk (I don't speak Danish)’’. You took almost two minutes to say these four words and hoped you said that right. The pronunciation was so hard. On the way to Copenhagen you learned a few important sentences, just in case nobody talks English.

,,Oh excuse me, I am Alex. For the fact that you don’t speak Danish, that was perfect’’. He said and was surprised from your skills.

Ana and Alex’s friend were already deep in conversation. From that moment on you felt comfortable and start talking as if you knew him much longer.

,,So this is Marco, he is my best friend and roommate. And what's her name?’’ He asked.

,,She is Ana, we studied together, but we know each other since the high school.’’ He was very attentive at what you said, so you told him why you traveled to Copenhagen.

,,Oh nurses, that's a tough job, wow. So, congratulations for your graduation girls!’’ You thanked him and glanced back to Ana.

You tapped her shoulder ,,Hey, I have to go to the toilet’’ You wanted her to come with you.

,,Yes, me too, I follow you’’. You drank up your cocktail and both stood up.

,,Such a wonderful and sexy man, damn’’Janina was really impressed about Marco, almost in love. She fixed her matte lipstick and admired at herself in this huge mirror.

,,We shouldn’t fly back home’’ She said ironically and laughed at the same time.

~~·······~~

Back to your seats, waited two fresh made cocktails for you on the table. 

,,Oh, is that for me? Thank you. How did you know that Martini sour is our favorite drink?’’ You blushed directly and didn’t had the courage to look into his blue eyes.

,,We asked the bartender, what you ordered before’’ said Marco proudly.

The hours passed and you got more and more tired. It was your fourth Martini sour and the alcohol started to making you clumsy.

Marco and Alex insisted to accompany you to the hotel. Alex opened the door for you und put you your jacket over your shoulders. 

,,What a gentleman’’ You thought and watched for your step.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you felt a lot safer with them in this dark night and strange streets.

~~·······~~

You stand at the main entrance of this luxury hotel. It was already cold and your hands were shaking. You weren't used to such cold winds. Alex rubbed your upper arms gently to warm you up.

,,It was a very funny evening, thank you so much. Can I hug you to say goodbye?’’ He asked you shyly.

You didn’t answer. Instead you hugged him and for the first time you felt tiny butterflies in your stomach. You were freezing, but his warmth and the touch of his soft hands on your body, made you forget it.

You stand really close to each other, face to face with just a few centimeters apart. You had to look up, because of his height. The light from the street lamp made his eyes shine and they hypnotized you.

,,Marco asked if we want to do a sightseeing tour with them tomorrow. What do you think?’’ asked Ana and ruined this perfect moment.

,,That would be awesome. I'm sure you know the best places in the city’’ 

Before the elevator closed its door, you smiled and waved shyly at him.

Chapter II: Overhelming city, just because of you.

#alex hogh andersen #marco ilsø #fanfiction #copenhagen #romanticism #vikings #viking #hvitserk #ivar the boneless #alex x reader #ivar x reader #marco x reader #hvitserk x reader

[wienerbarnes]

Necessary Evil

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 1,816

Warnings: nothing crazy, typical canon violence type stuff, special character appearance👀

A/N: so sorry for not posting this like two days ago when i said i was going to🥴 ive had a ton going on and ive been a busy bee but hopefully ill get myself organized for next week :) question for yall! should i keep the friday posting schedule or do thursdays instead bc of fatws on fridays? lmk!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

It’s been a confusing couple of weeks. You’ve been placed on a temporary leave while you finish your recovery after the last mission.

You’ve been trying to learn as much about your new powers as you can, not really understanding what they are or how they work considering that most of the time they’ve shown themselves it’s been accidental.

Making Bucky drop food, slamming doors shut, sending stuff flying across the room. At this point you’ll tape your hands at your sides if it means you’ll stop making such a mess everywhere.

Everything has been put on halt. You don’t cook, in fear of starting a fire or making a mess in your kitchen, you don’t spar with anyone or workout unless it’s in a closed off and sealed training room used for when the Hulk was at the tower, in fear of hurting people around you, and unfortunately, you haven’t let Bucky be around you much in fear of hurting him.

He tells you that you’re not going to hurt him and that even if you did he wouldn’t take it personally, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. The two of you got into a heated argument a few days ago when he offered to let you use him as a practice dummy for your new powers.

“How dare you suggest something like that to me?!”

“Well, I just meant that -”

“Meant what? How would you feel if I asked you to slap me around like a ragdoll with your metal arm? Make you go Winter Soldier on me?”

“That’s not the same thing, and you know it.”

“Isn’t it though?”

It wasn’t pretty.

It also didn’t help that Bucky was sent on a solo mission recently. He couldn’t tell you much about it, and you didn’t push it, knowing the two of you were still a bit rocky with each other, and knowing that it would only put more stress on you constantly thinking about his mission.

Boy, did you miss him though. You’re glad you put aside your pride to hug and kiss him goodbye, taking in his warmth, his love, his smell, savoring his arms around you and his lips on yours before he left. With the way he held and kissed you, you think he felt the same.

That was two days ago. Alpine has been the one to keep you the most company. She’s gotten big, and it’s a lot more fun to play around with her now. You trail a feather attached to the end of a string around the ground while she tries to pounce after it. A knock at the door doesn’t even pull her attention away from the toy as you let her win and catch it, standing up from your sitting position on the floor.

You open it to reveal Sam in more casual clothes than his regular tactical pants and shirt, and you return the smile he gives you.

“You busy?” He asks.

You look over your shoulder to see Alpine still pawing at the feather on the ground.

“No, I’m not busy, what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hang out, we both got the day off, figured I’d show you the best danishes in New York.”

You’re not sure if Bucky put him up to this or if this is a way to keep you from going batshit being stuck in your room not being able to do anything, but you accept the offer anyway. It’ll be nice to get some air.

“Do you, uhm,” You begin, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“What’s up?” Sam asks, the guy from the VA coming out, encouraging you to tell him.

“Do you know if Bucky’s okay? I haven’t heard from him, is all.” You ask, slipping on some shoes and heading back out into the hallway with Sam.

“I mean, I’m sure he’s fine, why wouldn’t he be?”

“Just that I know these solo missions can be anywhere and he could be doing anything, but I still worry. I didn’t know if you knew where he was or anything.”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t know, because Bucky told him Steve asked him for a few favors and he needed some off time for a couple of days. He thought Bucky was in rural New York. There’s no mission. But he supposes he’s not supposed to tell you that.

“Yeah, I don’t know much about it. Fury’s probably the one behind it.” Fury’s in Florida for his niece’s sixth birthday. He doesn’t tell you that either.

Luckily you accept it and enter the elevator to leave the private floor and go to the common area, able to leave out the backway of the tower.

“Avenger in the building, Captain.”

Sam doesn’t understand. Avenger? Who’s even around anymore?

“Uh, huh? Bucky?”

“No, Captain.”

“Clint?”

“No.”

“Who’s here?”

“Underoos.”

Underoos? Where has he heard that? Isn’t that -

The elevator doors open to the common room, a teenage boy stands with his back towards the two of you. His head whips around in typical teenage fashion and your eyebrows shoot up, unaware that the Avengers recruited teenagers.

“Is that a fucking kid?”

“Peter?” Sam asks, clearly surprised at the boy being in front of him. He hasn’t seen him in years. He wasn’t even sure where he was all this time, assuming he was in school, with his Aunt, but now he’s here.

“Sam! And his lady... friend. How are you?!”

“The lady friend has a name.” You chirp.

“What are you doing here?”

You and Sam speak at the same time. Peter addresses you first, “And your name is…?”

“Uh, Agent 51.” You didn’t think that through.

“Weird name, but alright.”

“Peter.” Sam brings his attention back to his question.

“Who is this guy?” You ask, clearly lost on who this person is and how he’s an Avenger.

“This is Spider-Man.” Sam tells you nonchalantly.

“Uh- Sam?!” Peter exclaims.

“What, she works with us, now. She doesn’t have anyone to tell anyway.”

“Sam?!” You elbow him.

“Why are you here, Peter.” Sam asks again.

“Well, you know, I was in school, doing some stuff here and there for Hill and Fury, and I figured I’d stop by.” He smiles.

You and Sam stare in silent confusion.

“Okay, look. I feel… lost. Like I feel like I’ve come to terms with Tony dying and stuff, but, I don’t know...” Peter finally cuts to the point.

You know very little about Spider-Man. You definitely didn’t know he was a kid, but you also didn’t know that he had some sort of a close relationship with Tony Stark. You’re becoming more and more like Bucky everyday; not knowing who any of these people are, not remembering seemingly important events, hell, not even knowing have these things happened because you were under Hydra.

“Peter, we don’t -”

“I’m not asking for help. More so asking if you have anything for me to do, or something.” His smile falls. You’re definitely confused, but you feel for the guy. You remember feeling lost as a teenager, losing the people you looked up to. And that lost feeling landed you in the Marines and the Marines landed you with a terrorist organization. We should help him, you immediately think.

“I’m sorry, man.” Sam offers. He wants to help Peter, as annoying as he finds him. Being a teenager is hard, and being Spider-Man is harder. But, Sam can’t forget that he’s still a kid in school with only his aunt and a few friends around him. He doesn’t want to put a person like that in the immense danger they throw themselves into, even if he knows he can handle it.

“No worries, I’ll be on my way, then.” Peter nervously scratches at his eyebrow.

“Sure you don’t want to stick around here for a bit? I know the Avengers aren’t much of a thing anymore, but, you always got a room here; a place to stay.” Sam tells him, assuming Peter’s on the verge of having a sort of coming-of-age moment.

“No, no, I need to be with May. I’ll see if I can, uh, maybe stop by more often. Maybe. If that’s alright. Nice to meet you, uh, Miss 51!” He bids farewell before walking away awkwardly, leaving Sam with a sort of sullen look on his face and you still very confused.

“What was that whole thing about?” You finally break the silence as you two make your way towards the private garage elevators.

“I’ll tell you over danishes.”

Bucky plants his fist into the HYDRA soldier’s face for the sixth time, the sound of metal hitting flesh making a slushy sound with little clanks, signifying teeth hitting the floor.

“This is the last time I ask you before I kill you. Where is Bychkov, Morozov, and that fuck with metal arms?” He pants beneath the black mask and goggles, an outfit he hadn’t dawned in so long.

Your list is heavy in his pocket, he thinks about the names he’s already crossed off and few he has left. He’s not going to stop until he finds the handlers that captured you and the supposed soldier with metal arms that shot you, details you only mentioned to him once after a nightmare that he refused to ever forget.

“They… went back… to base… in Kiev. Just… north of it.” He struggles out.

One step closer. Bucky stands taller, letting the man slump on the ground, and he reaches for the knife at his thigh.

“Wait! I - I told you… where they went!”

“I was going to kill you whether you told me or not, you Nazi fuck.” Is all he says before he slashes the knife, ending the bastard’s life.

Leaving the man’s home, he rounds a corner into the night and replaces his knife, taking out a pen in one of his many pockets as well as your list.

He crosses off Antonov, looking down at the four remaining names, two of which were the men that did this to you.

He takes a breath, the layers of leather and kevlar straining over his muscles as he sighs. He never thought he’d be hunting people down like this, Nazi or not. He never thought he’d have this black mask and these goggles over his eyes. But he also never thought HYDRA would touch the love of his life the way they did; never thought they’d put you in that chair.

So, now, he’s only getting revenge. It’s the least he can do after this organization has stolen his life, kept him from seeing his family forever, took his arm, gave him PTSD, gave his girlfriend PTSD and injected her with who knows what only to put her in that goddamn chair.

While he never thought he’d be in this position, they asked for it, and he’s not sorry.

On to the next name.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfictions #marvel #bucky barnes series #idk if yall know this but i love spiderman #my fav marvel character #love him more than bucky i just don't read or write for him for some reason idk i just never got into that #and the new spiderman is coming out in december ! #i slowly want to incorporate characters into c2c #like i added wanda and plan to write a oneshot or two delving into her and reader meeting and getting to know each other #and then the loki series comes out in june so maybe ill play w that #im just not sure if ill adapt c2c to fatws #depends where it goes and how it ends #we'll see #anyway #yall know u can always send ideas or requests for me to play around with #thanks for reading if you made it this far

[thegracelessfaceless]

If you are still doing matchups,, I'd be interested in a creepypasta one. I'm coming over from Elise blog.

So my name is Shay, I go by Whiskey because it's a preference in liquor on my end. I go by they/them pronouns, AFAB and I'm bi and omniromantic, I do have an mild preference for men or masc aligned people. I'm a Libra sun, Virgo moon and Aquarius rising. I'm also introvert (INFJ-A) and I'm constantly sleeply. I do have C-PSTD, Bipolar II and GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder).

I'm Caucasian/White and I stand at 5'9. I have celtic and Danish heritage, My family where vikings. I'm really tall and legs double the size of my torso, as in my thighs are as big as my torso in length, same with my calves. I call myself spider legs because of that. I have this natural like wolf cut going on that is this dark green with my roots be my natural dark chocolate brown hair. My eyes are hazel with gold flecks that shift in color which I found out is normal for people with hazel eyes. I paint my nails black a lot because I find the color pleasing. My build wise is like a rectangle like shape with broad shoulders. I'm pretty strong and I'm proud of my strength. I'm currently starting to get into shape and lose weight so I have fit shape but not like over for. Just the right amount of fat over my muscles. I have a lot of stretch marks,, mostly around my waist and my biceps. I call them my stripes or lighting marks. I have plans to get snake bite piercings and wear like the ring ones in them. I'm getting an tattoo soon that is like this and then I want a burning match tattoo on my color bone. My ears are piercing and I like wearing fake gauges, spirals and then the ratings that have the dangly stuff and cuffs with them. I also wear like those stereotypical hot topic chokers. I wear a lot of long sleeves and skinny jeans, I do like ripped skinny jeans. I also love flannels and black boots like doc martins or converse.

I think you can assume by the statement of me liking whiskey I am the rebellious sort which is true. I have drank a bit and tried weed, I don't do it anymore tho.I have been told if people don't know me and see me from afar I'm intimidating to approach. Even being spooky and intimidating, I promise I'm just a big softie. I usually assume the mom friend of the group with my friends. I always worry about them and make sure they take care of themselves. Sometimes I do it so much I forget to take care of myself. I'm really gentle and compassionate, along with being extremely empathetic. I can be stubborn and bit judgemental at times, mostly working off first impressions myself when getting to know each other. I have an hard time being insertive and putting my foot down with my boundaries, scared to lose people even if the hurt me. I'm an introvert through and through, liking to watch from the back and observe the way things go on around me. I do my best to be an optimist because I can't see the point in see everything wrong in this world, it helps me to see the good. I love going on adventures with my close friends and love being a chaotic bastard with them. My dnd alignment is chaotic neutral and I'm Hufflepuff. I do live by the saying do no harm but take no shit. But I won't hesitate to fight someone for the right causes.

I do always constantly look like I am going to funeral of some sort because I own nothing but black. The color makes me feel really comfortable but it's not my favorite color. My favorite color is green but I like sage green, forest green, mossy green, etc. The earthy greens are my favorites. I have a love for the forest and woodlands, finding a sense of home in the woods. I do love archery and something I'm definitely going to be picking up along with playing the drums. I also smoke herbal cigarettes as well as alternative to smoking.

I often get called a cryptid and at this point, I am just one. Cryptidcore, Midwest Gothic, and Pacific Northwest Gothic are my favorite aesthetics. I have a huge love for cryptozoology (the study of cryptids), parapsychology (the psychic phenomena and other paranormal claims), original creepypasta stories and to be honest anything like spooky and creepy. I want to be a mortician and I'm attending school for that. I also really love the dark, especially if I have some good music blasting through my earbuds. I am a sucker for long road trips and seeing things, filling the adventure heart I have. My favorite animals are coyotes and I also like horses. I like to write a lot as well.

Okay, first off, you sound so cool?! Like we should talk more 😃.

I match you with...

Hₑᄂₑ𝚗 ₒ𝚝ᵢ𝘴/ Bᄂₒₒ𝚍y Pₐᵢ𝚗𝚝ₑᵣ

(Not my art, unknown artist. Contact me with credit info!)

Helen gets the they/them pronouns. For the longest, the thought he was a weird girl. Then he had body dysphoria for a long time, and then he came to terms with his identity.

Helen is a Virgo to your Libra. Virgos admire Libra's clear mindedness and their drive for balance in all areas.

However, Virgos can have some trust issues. Just be there and patient with Helen. He'll get over those hurdles eventually.

Helen gets being an introvert, being one himself. He never had many friends growing up, his only close one being killed by bullies who then tried to blame it on him. Helen would be perfectly content if you two were the last people on Earth.

Helen loves how you look, like you're just 'classical' beautiful? He loves painting your eyes, trying to get that perfect mix of green and gold.

He recites Robert Frost to you because your eyes remind him of this poem:

"Nature's first green is gold/ Her hardest hue to hold/ Her early leaf's a-flower;/ but only so an hour./ Then leaf subsides to leaf/ So Eden sank to grief/ So dawn goes down to day/ Nothing gold can stay"- Robert Frost "Nothing Gold Can Stay"

Helen would enjoy painting your nails for you, maybe even painting little designs on them if you'd like

Helen would be so supportive in your fitness journey. He just doesn't want you to feel like you have to lose weight to please him or anyone else. He thinks you're perfect just how you are, just like he'd think you're perfect 50 pounds overweight or 50 pounds underweight.

Helen loves your stripes. Whenever you feel self conscious about them, he reminds you that the things that make a person attractive are groupings of flaws that work well with each other to make a beautiful face

OR

He tells you how the Chinese fill in cracked china and pottery with molten gold because the cracks make the piece more beautiful since it has more character.

Helen would love to design tattoos for you

He thinks it's sweet that you're Mom Friend™, but he's not going to let you drive yourself into the ground taking care of everyone else. So, now, you can't lift a finger around Helen. He waits on you hand and foot

He'll help you learn to be more assertive and stand up for yourself and what you believe in. He'll help you set boundaries and limits and he'll help you enforce them. One of his more important lessons is that you have no room in your life for people who hurt you, use you, or make you miserable.

Anyone that hurts you will be subjected to The Wrath of Helen Otis™

I feel like Helen wasn't a huge outside person before meeting you.

But between pictures on your camera roll of you and your friends' adventures and just listening to the way you speak about the Great Outdoors? He's intrigued as hell now and goes on a nature walk with you on an easy forest mountain trail, nothing too challenging or taxing.

And suddenly he just understood everything you'd been talking about.

A special activity he likes to do just the two of you is this: you think of and describe to him a cryptid and he paints it following your description. Then he listens to any stories or folklore for that cryptid.

Its normally exactly the way you pictured it in your head (it's actually pretty uncanny).

Thinks it's cool that you're going to mortician's school. He's always been interested in medicine, but can't tolerate all the patients. But a mortician... They do medical things and have the quietest patient that are just so agreeable! What a genius career path (seriously, I'm on a wait list for an interview with the coroners office (Low turnover rates 😑)

Helen also likes playing in paint worn you (but I'm thinking that deserves a whole post of its own)

Helen also likes to paint while you write (sometimes he paints you writing about him painting). Its beautiful, really. Just two people who love each other enjoying their hobbies together in companionable silence 😍

#creepypasta #creepypasta matchups #helen otis #bloody painter #bloody painter x Reader

[wordynerdygurl]

Sticky, Sweet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Excuse me?"

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

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

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

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

Flat, without feeling, "Donuts."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ahem… Excuse me!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just two.”

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

“I hope it will be!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why, you of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you make all of this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About time.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nodding at you, “Nope.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?  What’s that face?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your turn to what, exactly?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And after…"

Pausing to look at you, "After?"

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

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

~~

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