#i shall be Fine. i shall call my diana after the conversation. i shall bring my handkerchief. i shall finish those wedding invitations | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starfirette · 4 years

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fantasy | diana prince x reader

»a/n: 😈

»masterlist

» Diana Prince x Reader | sensitive Diana | fem x fem smut | lowkey angst | wordcount: 4,563

Your little London townhouse has a perfect view of the steelyards and its workers who slave away under a sunless sky. It’s your tradition to fall asleep to the sound of them packing up, then to wake up to the sounds of them beginning work again.

To say time passes slowly for you would be a grand understatement.

You tried many times to find happiness in the city, looking high and low in the most unseemly of places. No thing or person could make you happy these days. You sit at a desk most of your life, taking notes for a bitter old man who can’t ever say ‘please’ or ‘thank you’. Secretary positions are all the rage these days since it’s the only real way women can make money without signing away their soul and what little freedom that have to an angry, rich man. To be a wife is to be silent and gentle, even if you’re hot tempered by nature. If you were to marry, you would surely have to give up the outlandish dreams you have. You crave independence, freedom, true love; what woman doesn’t yearn for these things? Some women have the unsuspecting loophole to win a man’s affections and hope he will let them at least pretend they have rights.

This option is not one you can choose so easily. You have never had eyes for a man. When you are alone, lounging on your bed or soaking in the tub, you envision yourself in the arms of a woman.

That’s your deepest, darkest ‘secret.’ You badly want to live in a world where your desires of romance don’t count as a real personality trait or as a sin.

You’ve never uttered this secret to anyone, ever. How could you? What friends do you have that are loyal enough to keep that to themselves?

Conversion therapy frightens you a good deal more than a heterosexual marriage. And that’s saying something.

There are plenty of times where you feel completely alone, stranded in silence, and forced to live in your cramped, London townhouse, where the wind whistles through the cracks of the walls and the floorboards creak anxiously. Even in your own home you feel trapped.

The only escape are your books, which you come upon rarely enough as it is. Your books aren’t the type of books women read. Your books are textbooks. Some you’ve purchased under fake names or titles, as if you were shopping for your husband or father. Some you’ve stolen. But all are cherished by you.

The largest wall of your home is lined with weak shelving where you could display your texts happily. Almost proudly.

Ah, to have independence—to be free to study at a university, to do such good with talents reserved solely for a man. And how could they be? What makes you different from a man? You love women, like they do! You breathe, like they do!

It’s the curls of your hair that keeps you from achieving your dreams. The breasts and the curve of your hips which you are coerced into keeping hidden, even on the hottest summer day.

In your ideal world you’d live with a wife, with a few cats and dogs, and you’d be a real doctor of history. A professional, dedicated to her work of uncovering the truths of the world.

In your ideal world...

It doesn’t do good to live in a fantasy land. As cruel as your reality can be, it is the only reality you have. It is in this reality that you must crawl out of bed at five in the morning and be at the office no later than twenty after six, with a plate of pastries and a mug of tea ready for Mr. Landings.

A dreary winter day you leave your London townhouse dressed in a new, fine suit of buttercream cashmere. It had taken the majority of your yearly savings to purchase, but you figured if you cannot be granted the right to bury your head in a woman’s thighs, you can at least dress the way you’d like to.

It’s always best to wake up extra early to be at the front of the bakery line. The freshest breakfast treats sell out first thing of the bakery’s opening, and considering you buy for Mr. Landings, Mr. Trevor, Mr. Carber, and the two respective secretaries, you have no choice but to be at the front of that damned line. This morning the cost of your number three spot was your rouge and lipstick. You feel absolutely plain, but your fine suit cancels out most of the insecurity.

You managed to get a good number of items. On your way out you found most of the line to be other secretaries, dressed in their own cashmere suits and nervously tapping their heels. No doubt they were praying the bakery didn’t sell out of breakfast goodies. You tip your hat down to avoid meeting their eyes. You’ve had your share of failed food runs, and it’s never fun.

You run across the street, only able to take sparing steps as your heels wrestle against loose gravel. You arrive to the office at the perfect time, with your fellow secretaries Etta Candy and Julia Deneiros still in the process of unlocking the doors.

“Sorry I’m late,” you murmured to your work friends.

“You have nothing to apologize for when you have the breakfast, my dear,” Julia assured you.

As Etta got the doors open, Julia ushered you in first. You hurried to set the treasure down on the main desk of the office. Once that was out of the way, you started tea in the side room, then proceeded to settle at your ‘desk.’ It was a small slate of red stained wood, though the legs sometimes wobbled and creaked. Your telephone on the left, accompanied by the contacts you kept for Mr. Landings, hardly rang as Etta usually took care of every business call.

Emptying your pockets took hardly a minute. You set your coin purse and silver pocket watch on the wood before shuffling through the loose pages that cluttered your workspace.

The tea kettle lets out a whistle. Julia tended to it herself, and you softly muttered a ‘Thank you’ but she’d already been gone.

Around a nibble of croissant, Etta wondered aloud whether Mr. Trevor would be coming in today.

You shrug without looking away. "Perhaps he's gotten himself a lucky lady,” you suggested. Julia poured you a steaming cup of tea.

You half expected Etta to scold you, but she instead made a small sound of agreement. “I suppose he could have found himself an exotic bride!” Etta laughed.

Julia giggled like a school girl, choking on her words: “We mustn’t gossip!”

Even though she said as such, she couldn’t help but to entertain the topic. The two ladies remarked that Mr. Trevor would settle with one woman the day the sky turned green.

And for a moment, you agreed with them, humming softly into your tea before you took a cautious sip.

For a brief moment the world was just right—and then Mr. Trevor quite literally waltzed inside with a beautiful woman.

Now, beautiful couldn’t properly describe this woman. What you notice first was her lips, round and quirked as though she was seeing an office like this for the first time in her life. Her eyes sparkled with a million untold stories.

Also, she appeared to be wearing the strangest of costumes. A coat of black fur strapped close to her waist, but every step she took revealed flashes of bare legs. You could have fainted.

Etta only saw the face of her boss, and she cheered. “You’re not dead!” She exclaimed. She doted over the wrinkles of Steve Trevor’s suit before hitting him over the chest with friendly familiarity. “I did think you were dead, you know.”

You frowned. “No, you didn’t,” you mumbled halfheartedly. You made to your feet, shuffling over to greet Mr. Trevor. “Hello,” you said, nodding your head.

The young woman met your eyes and she smiled, showcasing her perfect, pearly teeth.

“I’m Y/n L/n,” you say, forcing yourself not to stutter. Etta introduced herself next, holding a hand out to the woman for a handshake. While that would have been proper, you find it’s rather scary to shake hands with attractive people.

“We ladies are Mr. Trevor and Mr. Landings’s secretary.”

She cocked a thick brow. “What is a secretary?” She has a thick accent, one you can’t quite recognize, but it’s rather musical.

“Oh, well, we do everything. Go where tells me to go, do what he tells me to do.”

The woman looked flabbergasted. “Where I’m from that’s called slavery!”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. Both you and Etta became large fans of the woman, who introduced herself as Diana. No last name, but she seemed so confident with the partial title that you couldn’t bring yourself to ask.

“Would you like a cup of tea? Shall I take your coat?” You offered. Can we run away and get married and adopt lots of babies?

“Oh, thank you,” Diana beamed. She went to shrug off her fur, and you quickly stopped her when you saw what she had been wearing under it. Etta lurched to tie the coat up tight, making Diana grunt as the air was pushed from her lungs.

You laugh nervously, eyeing Mr. Trevor, who looked annoyed rather than surprised.

“Fantastic,” Mr. Trevor snubbed. “Ladies, would we care for a trip to, uhm, get Diana new...well, new…”

“Clothes?” You suggested when Mr. Trevor became clearly uncomfortable.

“Yes, that, thank you.”

“Mr. Trevor I would be more than willing to, but I do have to wait for Mr. Landings—”

“Nonsense, Miss L/n, Julia can manage on her own. Let’s just be on our way.” You gathered your few things, shoving your coin purse and silver watch deep into your pocket. “Sorry, Julia, dear,” you say. She shakes her head. “It isn’t a bother. Try to enjoy your day out of the office.”

You smiled and waved her goodbye before joining Mr. Trevor and the ladies.

Mr. Trevor inquired where you and Etta frequent for clothes. You suggested Paya’s Apparel, but Etta suggested Madame Penny’s Dresser. You tried not to take notice when Mr. Trevor sized your outfit up to Etta’s. He dubbed Etta’s suit no doubt fancier and declared Madame Penny’s.

Diana didn’t move her feet to follow. “What is the difference?” She asked. She asked you. You were caught at a pause. “I would think Mr. Trevor finds Madame Penny’s

more suitable for a...for you.” You awkwardly shoved your hands into the pockets of your skirt. You’d splurged on this suit. Or so you thought.

“Steve! Steve, wait, let's go to Pa-Papaya’s?” Diana asked you.

“Just Paya’s,” you giggle.

“Steve,” Diana continued, “I think Paya’s will do just fine.”

Mr. Trevor sighed heavily, as if he had been expecting something like that to happen. “Fine. Lead the way.”

Diana held a hand out. You looked at it fearfully. “We are walking together, so should we hold hands?” She asked. She went to wrap her hand in yours. Steve scrambled for Diana’s arm, pushing it down to her side. “No, no, no, don’t hold hands. When I said people hold hands when they’re together, I meant together as in married.”

Diana’s mouth rounded out as she said, “Oh!” She sent you an apologetic smile, to which you promptly looked away from. Looking her in the eye made you nauseous, more than you’ve ever felt before.

Away you were whisked to Paya’s. It’s a good center, with plenty of fashionable dresses. Admittedly it isn’t nearly as expensive as Mr. Trevor probably would have preferred. But it’s fashionable, affordable, even for you. It’s a large shop with dim lights behind brassy lamps and lanterns.

Diana looked around, her eyebrows raised practically to hairline. She approached a mannequin clad with a silky pink corset. She touched the material and frowned. “Is this what passes for armor in your country?” She asked.

You couldn’t quite imagine what she meant by armor.

“No, no,” Etta explained, “that’s what keeps our tummies in.”

Diana sent a sharp glance to Etta. “Why must you keep them in?” She demanded.

Etta repressed a few other comments. She settled with, “Only a woman with no tummy would ask such a question.”

“Why don’t we look around?” You suggest as Diana’s eyes wander for more things to poke at. You figure she’s never visited a London shop before. Where could she be from that has such different traditions?

“How about this one?” Etta suggested as she found a brown suit with a thick fur wrap. “Stylish, professional, but still good to wear for a night on the town!” Etta seemed thrilled with her sales pitch. You weren’t impressed. If Diana was to wear something, she should wear something more flattering. Of course Diana could wear a sheet of dirty canvas and still look stunning.

Diana tucked her hand into yours, catching your attention immediately. You looked to her, finding that her eyes were already fixated on you. “What do you think of this one?” She asked. She didn’t seem sure of her own choice. Your legs felt numb as Diana’s fingers tickled the top of your hand.

You quickly pulled away from her. “I think something like this would be better,” you suggested, turning to the first suit you could find. It was black, with a long skirt and a frilly kind of blouse.

Diana still seemed uncertain. Mr. Trevor begged her to at least give it a shot. Diana sighed. “I suppose I can,” she declared. She began to remove her coat. You got a longer glimpse at what was underneath it.

Etta darted like lightning to stop her. Once again Diana was gasping with confusion as Etta tied her coat shut tightly. “Come with me, dear,” Etta said, blotting the sweat off her forehead with her handkerchief. “We’ll find you a dressing room.”

Diana was ushered off with Etta, leaving you to recollect your thoughts. You stopped Mr. Trevor from following.

“Might I have a word, sir?” You softly asked.

“Of course.” He continued to look quite ill.

“It’s just that I did see what she was wearing, sir,” you began. You’d seen such similar armor in your stolen books. “Is she…?”

Mr. Trevor suddenly gripped you by the shoulders. He looked absolutely relieved. “So you know about them?! And the magic island? I don’t think I can handle it on my own, Y/n.”

You blinked a few times. “Did you say magic island?” You finally asked. “No, I meant is she Greek?”

Mr. Trevor recoiled, falling into a fit of coughs. “Absolutely, yes,” he said. “I’ll be...I need some water.”

You wonder what in the hell happened to Mr. Trevor for him to lose his usual composure. He’s been known to always have a witty remark for something, but today he’s entirely off his usual tempo.

You searched for Etta. She is speaking with the oncall saleswoman, who was in the process of explaining the most boring details of Diana’s selected suit. “Etta, Mr. Trevor bid me go ask you if you could pick out a few more outfits for Miss Diana to try.”

“Of course!” Etta said. “Stay and wait with her, please?”

“Done,” you promise.

Etta and the saleswoman took off to find more dresses and blazers for Diana. You looked around before darting back to the dressing rooms. “Diana?” You called.

A door opened promptly. “Hello.”

“H-hi,” you stuttered out.

Facing her was incredibly difficult. Her eyes literally seemed to sparkle with pure joy. Among that, her hair falls over her shoulders in loose, brown curls. Her coat is off, strewn behind her over a chaise. You can see her arrangement of weapons on the floor. Her armor, red and gold, has yet to be removed.

“I wanted to-to speak with you. About you.”

Diana moved aside for you to come in. You felt a bit uncomfortable. It’s not really wrong for you to be here. Any other woman wouldn’t mind helping Diana dress, and afterall, richer women have handmaids specifically for dressing them and even to bathe them. Diana may be a stranger but she’s warm and kind; she’s different.

She didn’t seem to bashful about her variety of weaponry. You’re mostly in awe.

“I’ve never known any female warrior before,” you muttered as you gave the sword a final glance. The hilt had strong patterns carved over it, and the blade looked razor sharp. A stab with that sword would feel completely painless at first, while the blade sliced through you like a ribbon.

“I am an Amazon,” Diana explained.

“Pardon me?” You asked.

“Warriors put upon the world by the gods. We are...well, a bridge to a better world. The guardians of mankind and all that is good.”

Oh, well okay. You weren’t exactly sure how to respond to that, considering it’s a bit crazy.

“You don’t believe me,” Diana says. “I cannot say I don’t understand. We have lived in secret for most of history.” She shrugged in her plates of metal. “I feared the world was under a bigger threat than it ever has been. That is why I left my people to join Steve Trevor.”

You nod. “Alright, I guess. While I’m hesitant to believe all of your story, I trust Mr. Trevor’s judgement.”

Diana smiled at that. “That is all I need.”

She gestured to the loose garments of purple you’d chosen for her before. “I hate to trouble you more than I already have. But I cannot understand how this is supposed to work.” She referred to the corset which ties up underneath every layer. “Oh, well generally someone can do it for you, but there are some that tie up in the front. Should I choose one of those for you?”

“No, that’s alright. I have you to help me.” Diana started to remove the plates of armor, starting with her thigh pieces. She organized her things very sternly, as if she were keeping a strict inventory log in her mind. For all you know she is.

She wrapped her arms over her chest to keep some modesty, but even so, even as you chant to yourself not to look, you felt your mouth become bone dry. You grabbed the corset and waved for Diana to turn around. She molds the front of the corset to her chest, using one arm to keep it in place while she used her left hand to move her hair. Your fingers dragged over her skin. She is so golden, so soft. The smell of soap and seafoam lingers.

You could easily dip your head down and kiss her neck.

You force the thoughts from your head. Trembling, you lace up the corset, hardly able to maximize your strength as you pull as tight as you can. Your limbs feel like phantoms. They move on their own while you bite back tears.

When you finished, you blotted your tears away with the inside of your wrist. “I’ll be leaving, now,” you tell her. “Good luck.”

Fleeing the room while Diana calls after you was the only way to save yourself. The need for Diana built up strong in your belly, as did the cloud of heartache in your chest. Your breath became restricted by the pain. You brushed past Etta on the way out of the store, briefly explaining you needed to leave and to send your apologies to Mr. Trevor.

What worries you most isn’t Mr. Trevor and Diana’s alarmingly fictional stories, or even Diana’s weaponry she keeps strapped to her body; it was the fact you had let Diana get to you. She messed with your brain without even knowing it, and now you couldn’t help but think how horrible your life is.

You briskly walked home. You fumble with your keys at the door, scraping the sides of the lock with the blade. Throwing yourself inside is the only thing that relieves you. This little house by the steel mills is your palace of your true nature. While you shiver at night and hear things creak, you can at least be yourself.

Typically you would calm yourself with a nap or a bath, but your nerves are far too shot.

You journeyed straight to your bedroom and kicked off your heels. Settling over the squeaky mattress with your lip caught in your teeth, you struggle to steady your hands enough so you can unbutton the top of your coat.

You lay back and slide your hand down your belly, poking through the band of your skirt. And you imagine…

You imagine yourself in that dressing room, your hands sliding down Diana’s smooth back.

You pressed the smallest of kisses atop her bare shoulder. The little hairs on her neck rise, her breath caught. She turns on her heels to face you, practically forehead to forehead.

She drops the corset to the floor, kicking it away without a care in then world. Her hand finds yours, and she holds it one more time, tickling your skin with the lad of her thumb. With a gentle smile, Diana raises your hand to hold one soft breast.

You palm and squeeze at her, feeling completely in awe of her beauty. Diana dragged you down to kneel with her on the floor. In the fantasy you lay not in a dressing room, but on a soft quilt. Where you are doesn’t matter; it’s Diana. Diana pushes you to your back, undoing the clips in your hair and massaging your scalp of the pain your tight bun left behind. She drags her fingers through your hair, then down your chest. She bows her head down, mouth catching your hard left nipple. Your right breast is tended to with her hand, while your left earns the attention of hee teeth, tongue, and lips. She leaves tender bruises over your chest, purring her affections and compliments into you.

Soon she trails her mouth down. Her long, dark hair drags over your stomach. Diana places herself just between your thighs, resting her weight onto one of her elbows.

With two fingers she spreads you apart to see your dripping cunt clenching with suspense. Diana presses a kiss to your hipbones. With a finger dipping inside of you, she catches arousal and swirls it around your hole, preparing to widen you out. Two of her fingers creep inside of you, curling up and pressing the top of your cunt’s walls, making you lurch your hips up against her face.

With a muscled arm she pushes your hips down, a hand digging into you to keep you in place as her lips pucker over your aching clit.

The bead pulsed with excitement as Diana pressed a gentle kiss against it. Her tongue poked out to swirl a small circle over your clitoris. You whined, wiggling your hips desperately to feel more of Diana.

Her fingers pumped in and out, scissoring apart and always tickling that magic spot deep inside of you.

Her tongue swirled faster and wider, occasionally taking breaks to ease the muscle, but her attention on you never failed.

Her cherry red lips sucked on your clit. She sang a sweet song into your cunt, the vibrations making your thighs tremble.

She made you cum hard over her fingers, which she stuck within her mouth to clean them.

As you wind down, she places her own two fingers at her own entrance, already slick with arousal. She lubricates her own clit, rubbing the bead for a few moments while gasping your name like a prayer. She roughly grabbed at your legs, spreading them apart so she could position herself at your cunt. She lowered carefully onto you, her warm pussy sliding against yours.

She forced one of your legs over her shoulder as she started to wiggle her hips. She murmured your name, casting her head back and closing her eyes. The movement was rhythmic and precise, your clit rubbing against hers sweetly. Tears bubbled in your eyes, blurring the vision of Diana’s face as she fucked you into the floor, her hips bucking faster, skin and cum mixing and slapping loudly.

Lewd moans fell out of your mouth as you cried out to Diana, begging her for more, to which she obliged. She thrusted faster, kissing the side of your leg that now trembled violently over her shoulder.

You whimpered when she sang your name, a warm smile still quirked on her lips.

You wanted to sink into the fuzzy blanket and stay there forever, being fucked blissfully by Diana’s hot, soaking cunt.

The intense orgasm brought you to the brink of sobs as Diana pushed your hips hard into the floor. “Fuck, yes,” you shout. You beg for it harder and Diana listens, giving you everything you could ever want.

In your fantasy you would cum twice. You would reciprocate the pleasure, flipping Diana over and crawling between her thighs. Her hand would weave in your loose hair, pushing your face deeper into her hips. Your tongue would dip into her entrance, lapping up her cum like it was honey. You would send wide stripes up and down her before using one finger inside of her—then two, then the third, as gently as you could. Her hips would be grinding against your face, her cum dribbling down your chin. She would whimper like she never has before, moaning your name mercilessly, because it doesn’t matter who heard.

Your fantasy ends.

Your fingers are soaked with cum and you move off your bed to wash your hands. You use a warm, damp cloth to clean the mess between your thighs. A part of you feels satisfied, but only the primal part. The rest of you feels sad. Lonely. You crawl into bed, still dressed in your new red suit. You wonder if Diana thinks you to be totally insane, considering how you had run away so abruptly. You worry that she knows, somehow, your secret. You want to know what she would think. What would she say if you ran to her, now, and confessed you wanted nothing more than to kiss her and be held by her muscley, tanned arms.

Despite it being the dead middle of the day, you stay in your bed for hours. Your telephone rings a few times, but you don’t bother. It could easily be your office calling to fire you.

Something within you no longer cares. Let them.

Leave this place, maybe, and find that magic island which Mr. Trevor had spoken of. It would be a land of freedom; freedom to study what you want, to kiss who you want—to sleep in past eight in the morning and not worry about the secretariat duties of providing breakfast.

If Diana is an “Amazon” then you want to be one too. For besides her blatant beauty, there was something about Diana that was incredible. Her smile, her eyes—she glistened with confidence. She knows who she is.

You know who she is, too.

She’s the love of your life, but of a life you will never get to have.

#diana prince x reader #diana prince #wonder woman x reader #wonder woman #dc #dceu #dceu imagine #dceu x reader #diana prince imagine #wonder woman imagine #starfirette writes #i wish queue well

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paperclipninja · 5 years

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Younger post-ep ramble 6x11

I may be on holiday but if you think that’s going to stop me offloading some thoughts and feelings about this week’s episode of Younger, ‘Holding Out for a SHero’, then you’d be sorely mistaken (any chance to over-think and over-analyse my fave fake reality). In saying that, this will be a briefer version of my usual post-ep ramble, what I shall refer to as Ramble Lite™. There were parts of this episode I really liked and parts I felt disappointed with, but it largely played out in a way that I expected, with the exception of that twist at the end! Hats off to Joe Murphy for that fab misdirection, I may have gasped.

This episode opened with Maggie in her tomato garden looking radiant and Liza filling her in on the decision not to see Josh anymore because it’s complicated and feelings and that undeniable thing called chemistry (or something like that). I applaud Maggie’s consistent use of Chaz (I really hope we get to hear her say it to his face at some point) and Liza stating out loud that she chooses Charles, but this scene also delivered one of the two big moments of disappointment I had in this ep. If anything was ever going to be out of character on this show it would be Liza, a writer and editor, being unable to come up with decent adjectives to describe the man she is supposedly in love with. Yet here she is describing Charles as ‘a peer’ and ‘appropriate’ as reasons for choosing to be with him. For real? I understand the effort to paint him as the sensible choice vs. the less sensible, the head vs. heart, in this triangle that’s been resurrected. This particular way of describing men has always served a clear purpose in the Youngerverse and ngl, my alarm bells went off in episode 7 when Michelle referred to Charles as ‘appropriate’. Liza uses this exact term to describe Richard, the horrendous man Michelle sets her up with in S1E2 who starts reading emails at the dinner table on their date, he’s ‘age appropriate’. She also described Jay as nice, viable, legitimate prospect, sure, but she also sobbed on his shoulder because she was so in love with Charles that her heart was aching at the thought of missing the chance to be with him.

It feels so painfully deliberate, Charles has gone from intellectually invigorating and romantic and been relegated to safe and ‘appropriate’. My disappointment comes from the fact that if this triangle must remain in play, there can be two men who are vibrant and compelling and really different, without painting one as ‘boring’ and one as ‘fun’. Knowing the way Liza talks about the important people in her life, with such admiration and affection, I feel she would at least say Charles is intelligent and romantic or kind or thoughtful or SOMETHING better than being ‘a peer’ and ‘appropriate’. I do believe that as viewers we often form our own interpretations of characters and when they don’t behave the way we imagine we are disappointed, but in this case it’s the disappointment that Liza’s entire reason for being attracted to Charles is being reduced to the idea that it’s sensible when we have been shown this is simply not the case. Phew, glad I got that off my chest (and so much for Ramble Lite™ lol).

Once in the office Liza is running Diana through the wedding planning, which frankly I cannot wait to see all come together. I love that Liza’s already secretly planned a bachelorette party and really does know Diana well enough to know she’ll want one (so many lols @ Diana’s, ‘yes that’s why I was bringing it up, because I don’t want one’ and could Liza look any more pleased with herself that she’s managed to pull the wool over her eyes? Adorbs). Charles arrives looking for Kelsey and is wanting to see how she would like to break the news that he is once again publisher, because that’s how they work now that they’re the dynamic duo and have I mentioned this week how much I LOVED seeing their dynamic last week? Kelsey proves that she has indeed kept her head and announces that Millennial secured a new investor and that Charles is once again in the boss seat and I am once again extremely impressed with Kelsey this season, as is Diana (and honestly if you have the D.Trout stamp of approval, what more do you need?). I will also never tire of seeing Diana, Kelsey and Liza as true peers and now friends, it’s undoubtedly a highlight of season 6.

The book pitch of the week is extremely timely (as always), a manners for millennials piece that aims to counteract the generation’s greatest shortcomings, such as ghosting exes and not RSVPing to weddings. This episode really did have some stellar lines and the fact that Liza can now drop jokes in meetings, such as her ‘neither was I’ response to the author’s ‘I am not proud to be a millennial’, is the kind of goodness I am here for since the lie is no longer a thing. Naturally Liza and Diana are both very interested in finding out more about these topics and it turns out the best way to get some finality with the ex is to write a good ol’ fashioned Dear John letter (best way to get those RSVP’s -unknown). This is reinforced nicely in Charles’ office, when Liza leaps off Charles’ desk as though she and Charles were caught christening the damn thing (which would’ve been very ok by me and at this point you should know I’m not at all sorry) by Diana bearing flowers and note from Alice the author letting them know she will not be publishing her book with Millennial (so no Charles, the flowers are not for you). All this talk of how good letters are leads to Liza penning her Dear Josh letter that night, which we only catch a tantalizing glimpse of initially, before the narration and accompanying montage when Josh actually receives it.

While it was only brief, Charles asking Liza how she feels about him being back as publisher and her answering honestly, she just wishes Kelsey hadn’t been unceremoniously stripped of the title, is yet another lovely insight into their relationship. Charles continuing with, ‘what about you, always thinking of others, how do you feel?’, excuse me while I clutch my heart at the sweetness of it all and seriously, does ANYONE ever ask Liza this? The family picture on Charles’ desk is noted and it’s great but I also can’t help but feel it’s somewhat ominous so I’m putting my gush on pause (v. open to being proven wrong on this).

Kelsey and Zane continue to be all over the place, I have so little investment in them as a pairing and I really think it’s because I have simply not seen enough of them together to know whether I care, though I have enjoyed a number of their interactions recently. It also doesn’t help that Zane has been many shades of douche this season. Since professing their love for one another, he is being caring at the start of this week’s ep, apologising and saying he feels partly responsible for Kelsey’s demotion and trying to allay Kelsey’s self-doubt. It is Kelsey who says that she doesn’t know how to do this with Zane and that one of them always loses (the old editors-who-were-peers-and-then-one-became-the-boss-but-now-they’re-peers-again curse), which returns Zane to Douchetown in time for the staff meeting.

I felt for Kelsey, it would be so hard sitting in that first meeting with Charles at the helm again, though him going through all the acquisitions and saying these are a credit to Kelsey’s impeccable instincts was great and necessary. But then Charles brings up the Arabian Seas book and the ‘we’ enters the conversation, along with a list of books that sound like they belong on the bargain shelf because yawn and yes it’s fine that Charles has his own instincts, but Zane in this meeting is awful. Kelsey calls him out, she is clearly and rightfully angry about the unfairness of her entire situation and she warns Charles to, ‘pay attention…and you too Liza. I didn’t have any boundaries at work and look what happened’. I have no idea if this is foreshadowing but I feel like it could be juicy if it was so let’s keep abreast of any future developments (yes that is a boob pun and you’re welcome).

Highlight of this whole scene of course is Liza ripping into the guy and the whole office when Kelsey walks out of the meeting and can hear that her meme has been made into a banger of a tune. We get fearsome Liza schooling the entire room on the fact that Kelsey did get the money, ‘that’s why we all have a job, she’s a goddamn hero’. YESSSSSS Liza *praise hands*. Kelsey in turn agrees to speak at the girls school event that Lauren put to her earlier (yes it IS ok to be angry and Kelsey no longer distancing herself from her social media mistake but using it as a platform to empower others and be a role model…where do I sign?).

Lauren was in ultimate PR and friend mode for Kelsey this week, trying to figure out how to spin Boobgate and trying to see the positive side of all the invitation cancellations. I always say it, I know, but Lauren’s unrelenting advocacy for her friends is absolutely one of her best qualities and her line, ‘you are an example of a woman who made a very simple mistake and the patriarchy seizing that opportunity to tear you down’, was fantastic. She also very much latched onto the SHero theme and I appreciated her use of the word at any given opportunity.

It is as Lauren and Josh are leaving to catch an Uber to Inkburg Midtown that we discover this means he is very relieved Claire doesn’t have to move to LA now. I really don’t get this. I said last week that Josh is far too woke to expect the mother of his child to bail on her career aspiration just so he doesn’t have to move to LA, especially considering he knows the struggle Liza faced in her own career journey after having Caitlin (who you may remember is her daughter…or was. Current status unknown). If we’d seen in their conversation Claire saying that she really doesn’t want to move but she can’t see another way to give Gemma the life she hopes, then ok, Josh finding a way to up his income is ace. So I do hope we find out at some point this was the case, because Josh deciding he’ll get more money so Claire and Gemma can stay for his convenience, it’s just nope.

Though I do have to say that the biggest benefit of Josh securing the Infinitely 21 partnership is getting to see more Shelly because omfg I cannot with her. The way she talks about paint colours, giving her personal number, the line I could not believe I heard, ‘but seriously, Josh, unload on me’ ( I love that this season has seemed censored af compared to previous ones – I don’t love this but you know what I mean- yet lines like this get dropped in. Too good), I am in awe of her complete and unabashed lust for him.

It is between picking paint colours that Josh finds the letter from Liza and it is heart wrenching. And beautiful. The emotion really is palpable as Josh leaves the store to find somewhere to read it once he realises what it is. The flashback montage is certainly something that hasn’t been utilized in the show and it really leaves such an impression. Coupled with the narration of the letter, it really captures the impact of Josh on Liza’s life and Liza’s genuine commitment to make her relationship with Charles work. If this show was wanting to move these characters past this old relationship it would have been a poignant and perfect way to do it. However it plays out in the long run, I thought it was really well done.

The hands down highlight of this entire episode for me was Diana’s bachelorette party. Lauren running at an unsuspecting Diana screaming, ‘get in the Hummer bitch’ is one of the funniest moments of the series, I will be laughing for eternity. Liza reminding Diana that, ‘I get you’, yes she does and I just love everything about seeing these women, all the Younger women, out together. I feel like the focus of this episode really got pulled to the other drama but this is the first time we’ve ever seen every female character of this show together in a room and I feel like THIS IS A BIG DEAL. Maggie schooling Diana on how strip clubs work and SO many brilliant lines, as Diana waves her money in the air only to tell the first stripper, ‘You’re a lot, no thank you’, then ‘Hi, little one’ as she flags another. The hilarity does not stop with Diana, Lauren’s, ‘here’s a fiver, you should smile more’ is every kind of YES (I sense a whiff of Liz Lemon in that line and I approve). As Liza and Kelsey talk about men and work and blah, Diana tries to bring them back to the purpose of the evening, ‘ladies, there are bulging crotches in your faces, can you focus?’. Listen to the Queen people. Yet another Diana wedding related event in which she ends up asking, ‘how did tonight become all about you?’ and I was thinking the same Diva. *Eyeroll*

The Hummer ends up at Inkburg because Lauren wants to help Diana fulfil her wish of doing something she’ll regret for the rest of her life (and obviously the reason they all need to be there is so Liza and Josh can have their post-letter confrontation). They are all so drunk, it’s hilarious and I would watch an entire feature film about the antics of this group while inebriated. Seriously, take my money. From Lauren’s, ‘Get out of the hummer Doana’ to Maggie’s, ‘I forgot we were in a car’, they cover the entire drunk person spectrum. On top of that we have Diana’s penis balloon hat position which just cracks me up because I am 10 but my fave is Diana saying to Josh, ‘John, just something small, tasteful and literary’ and then as she’s leaving, ‘it was nice to meet you Jake’. Obvs a wise choice not to go through with the tat but I’d love to know what Diana would have ended up with.

Josh calling Liza out on writing the letter and trying to walk away never talking to him was completely fair enough. Him reminding her that she said she would always be there for him, be Gemma’s aunt Liza, he’s not wrong and his hurt and confusion are understandable. But it is so nice to finally hear Liza making a choice and sticking to it (whether she does or not in the future). Josh saying that he gets it, she’s scared of what they were, they still are, it’s powerful and her defensiveness of Charles when he says that she’s making the safe choice is exactly the right response if she really means she has chosen him. And not because I love Charles and Liza together, but because Liza is standing up for her choice and her ‘don’t you tell me what I feel’ retort is so charged and fierce and I love it. ‘I know this is hard to accept Josh, but we were a moment in time. But the time has passed’ - this whole scene is wonderfully acted, the chemistry between these characters has always been strong and this is no exception. And obviously I agree that they need to move on. However my second big disappointment for this episode is the, ‘you forget Liza, I know you. I know when you’re lying (a couple of seasons of thinking she was 26 might contradict that but ok), especially to yourself.’

I absolutely understand the sentiment and I completely appreciate the setup for the zinger, ‘you wrote a letter to the wrong guy’ (though I do take issue with that line in general considering Liza has just said she’s made her choice. Even a simple, ‘I think’ in front of it would’ve made it less arrogant), but if this setup is leading to a Josh and Liza reunion down the track, then I would have preferred the execution be different because to me, this is not insightful or romantic, it’s Josh once again questioning Liza’s understanding of herself and her needs (I know it’s meant to be him trying to get her to ‘be real’ but it just doesn’t land like that for me). I have no doubt lots of fans are jubilant but it feels manipulative and is not a tactic that compels me to think they might have something worth revisiting. If after Liza said, ‘I love him more’ Josh had looked at her with that heartbreak in his eyes he can convey so well and said, ‘well then I hope he loves you the way you deserve’ or something and walked away, then THAT would show growth and make the possibility of him being an option again (which is clearly where this is all heading) far more compelling IMO.

So in one of the best bait and switch moments this show has delivered, Liza returns to the loft and has a good hard look at the gala photo with Charles and Michelle and Tom (and in my head she’s thinking about how good it is she and Charles promised each other they won’t go to things like that anymore) before we see another letter starting, Dear Charles. And just when all the Team Charles Stans were going to have a collective meltdown, it turns out it’s Kelsey writing her resignation letter and we all exhaled but then didn’t because Kelsey, what are you doing??? So. Much. DRAH-MAH, so little time.

Ramble Lite™, that was a good joke wasn’t it? Can’t believe we’ve reached the finale but I am also very ready because WE GET TO GO TO A WEDDING!!!! Better get my neckwear sorted…

#youngertv #younger tv #ramble #6x11 #younger season 6 #liza miller #charles brooks #diana trout #kelsey peters #maggie amato #liza x charles #team charles #review

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sailorportia · 5 years

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Daily Drabble, 11th of January

“A character attends a party held in honor of someone they don’t really like“ Prompt from @writingprompts365

also available on Ao3

[previous drabble] [next drabble]

approx. 1,100 words

Little Witch Academia, Hannah England x Barbara Parker

"Barbara, what's the opposite of a privilege?" Hannah asked.

Barbara pondered the question. "A responsibility maybe? An obligation? Why do you ask?"

Hannah scowled. "We need more unpleasant word for being forced to show up to parties held for assholes."

There were very few disadvantages to being a member of the British nobility. Obviously the privileges of such a station outweighed any of its possible restrictions. But that was hard to remember when one of the expectations of an aristocrat was to attend the social events of every other aristocrat. No matter how odious the aristocrat. As such, Hannah and Barbara had no choice but to imprison themselves in a ballroom at the Blackwell mansion, surrounded by their fellow party-goers.

"Careful, Han. If you get any ruder, someone might confuse you with Amanda."

"First off, rude. Secondly, I'll save my manners for people who deserve it, Barb. What the hell is this party for anyway? Has Louis Blackwell actually done anything worth celebrating?"

"No, but I think he's feeling insecure after Andrew's party last month and he's soothing his own bruised ego."

That sounded like Blackwell, the perfect example that good breeding didn't mean good manners. Hannah held a particular disgust toward him, not only for his repetitive attempts to get her to go out with him, but for the way he complimented her appearance by putting down Barbara, calling her plain.

"If only Diana weren't at that magic conference in East Mogiana," Hannah said. "Then we'd have some intelligent conversation."

"It's a shame he didn't invite Andrew," Barbara replied. "Then we'd have some eye candy." Both girls laughed. "I'm going to get a drink," Barbara said. "Would you like me to get you something too?"

"Sure," Hannah said. "You know what I'll like best."

Barbara smiled and nodded, then disappeared into the crowd. To Hannah's dismay, another figure emerged from the crowd, as if he had been waiting for her to be alone.

Hannah glared at him. "Well if it isn't Louis Blackhead."

"It's Blackwell!" Louis's ego was far too large and easily bruised.

"I know, you basic bastard."

"You almost sound like that Amanda O'Neill girl," Louis spat.

Hannah hated that Barbara's prediction came so soon. And that Louis was the one that said it.

"That's your problem, England. That ugly little attitude of yours. At this rate, no one's going to marry a pathetic witch like you."

"You're just mad that I refused to go out with you."

Louis sneered. "Don't think that makes you special. I ask out lots of girls. What, are you saving yourself for Hanbridge or something? Dream on. He doesn't have to slum it with a witch like you. Maybe if you're lucky, Lady Cavendish will let you and that Parker girl live out your spinster lives in that mansion of hers. Just keep sucking up to your betters

Hannah knew better than to rise to Louis's barbs. The boy thrived on attention and the cruellest thing she could do was deny him a response. Unless he insulted Barbara, in which case he'd get three inches of heel driven into his foot.

Barbara returned with a drink in each hand and passed one into Hannah's hand as she took her place at her best friend's side. "Well if it isn't our gracious host," she said with barely disguised venom. "What brings you to our corner of the ballroom?" And what would get you to leave, her tone implied.

Louis glared at her. "I was just telling Miss England about her dismal marriage prospects."

"What makes you think Hannah can't land a suitable spouse?"

"Well, she isn't very attractive," Louis said as if he hadn't hit on Hannah for years. "Her family's estates are hardly worth envying. And, of course, no nobleman would ever attach himself to one of you blasted witches."

"Is that so?" Barbara seemed oddly unperturbed by Louis's words. Usually she would jump down someone's throat before they could finish an insult against her best friend. "You're saying no one will marry a witch?"

"That's right," he said. "Witches aren't worth anything these days."

Barbara clutched her chest in feigned horror. "That's awful, whatever shall I do?" She put an arm around Hannah's waist. "I guess if no one else will have us, Hannah and I will have to marry each other. I really can't complain. After all, she is very attractive."

Louis grimaced. Barbara had thrown his harshest insult back in his face. "Fine! You two deserve each other!" He stormed off and was reabsorbed by the crowd, hopefully never to be seen again.

"Thanks, Barb." Hannah gave her best friend a squeeze. "You really showed him." She turned to face Barbara and flash her a grin, but her breath caught when she saw her face.

Barbara was blushing. Full-on blushing. Pink from her neck to her ears. Her mouth was pursed in a tense expression, and her eyes had trouble meeting Hannah's.

"I'm so sorry, Han," she said breathlessly. "That was a really weird thing to say, wasn't it? I don't know what came over me. Saying that I would marry you. Not that I wouldn't marry you! I'd rather be married to you than not be married at all. Not that I think of you as a last resort! I... I'm going to stop talking now."

Now Hannah was blushing herself. She hadn't paid Barbara's comments any mind. But apparently her friend did. Her friend who had just referred to her as "very attractive."

Hannah gave her Barbara a closer look; she certainly was gorgeous. Barbara's dark, silky hair looked exquisite when it was tied up in a ponytail, and the alternate hairstyle gave Hannah a rare glimpse of Barbara's exposed neck. Her purple dress left her slender arms bare. It also revealed her prominent collarbones, as well as a peek at the cleavage of her appreciable bosom...

And then Hannah realized that she was staring at her best friend's boobs.

She cleared her throat. "No, it wasn't weird. Like, I would totally marry you too. Who wouldn't marry their best friend? Especially when their best friend is totally hot and has really nice collar bones and... um..." Her voice softened into nothing, her face heated up as her brain registered the words spewing unbidden from her mouth.

"How about we leave early?" Barbara suggested. "I'm sure Blackwell won't miss us."

Hannah nodded in response, not trusting her traitorous mouth to answer. They walked out of the ballroom and didn't look back.

As a matter of note, Barbara still had her arm around Hannah's waist.

#daily drabble #drabbles #my fanfiction #little witch academia #lwa #barbannah #hannah x barbara #hannah england #barbara parker

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imagine-loki · 6 years

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Echoes of Love

TITLE: Echoes of Love CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 2 AUTHOR: fierysafrina ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you’re a Midgardian and already have a child. At the end of The Avengers, where Thor brought Loki back to Asgard, your son managed to sneak between the two brothers and went along. You panicked when you saw the scene unfold in front of your eyes, but Tony and Natasha assured you he’ll be fine and that Thor will bring him back. In the meantime, your son caught Loki’s heart with his big eyes and gentle heart, in a way reminding him of when he was a child. RATING: G (for now) NOTES/WARNINGS: I managed to end chapter 2 before I stopped working lolol oh I missed getting motivation to write. I’m not sure when the next chapter will be updated, but it will be…..by the end of the month if not first week.. we’ll see. Hope you’ll like it.

AO3 | Chapter 1

—

Mike stood by Frigga’s side as she talked with one of the maidens. His eyes looked all around the palace and at guards that stood not too far from them. He tugged on Frigga’s arm and the Queen looked at him.

She smiled softly. “We’re going.” With a chuckle at his enthusiasm that suddenly grew, she looked back at the maiden. “Make sure one of the rooms is ready for our guest and if there’s anything that he needs, provide him.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” The maiden bowed and left.

“So,” Frigga started walking with Mike by her side. He held on her hand tight. “Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know…” Mike shrugged. He leaned his whole body to the side before he looked at Odin, who approached them from other side. He slowed down with eyes observing the King. Seeing his change in acting, Frigga looked from the boy to her husband.

“The boy is still here?” Odin spoke with colder tone making Mike’s expression grow sourer. “I believe I told Thor to send him back to Midgard.”

“I don’t want to go back!” Mike quickly opposed, his lips formed into thin line, expression that of annoyed child.

“You dare to go against King?” Odin raised an eyebrow, amusement seen in his eyes. Frigga quietly stood beside, watching the two argue.

That seemed to make Mike hesitate for a moment as the startle he tried to hide, didn’t go unseen by either of them. The guards that followed Odin behind, glanced at each other, some barely hiding a smile that spread over their lips. Mike glanced at Frigga, who softly smiled.

Before she could speak, Mike’s look turned into a glare. “Yes.” His voice was quiet, but heard on the quiet hallway. “I don’t care if you’re King.” Looking at Frigga, ignoring the look Odin was giving him, he asked; “If you’re a Queen, do you have horses too?” There was excitement in his eyes that made the Queen widen her eyes as she looked at Odin, who seemed taken off by surprised.

“Mike,” Frigga called and knelt down, holding his hands. “You can’t talk to King like that. He might punish you if he sees fit.”

Mike’s lips pursued into thin line. “I’m sorry…” he murmured in silence and looked at Odin. Frigga turned to look at Odin, who’s the corners of his lips turned in a small smile. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for his response.

“All is fine.” He spoke after a moment.

Mike smiled and stepped closer to Frigga, who gently caressed his head. He was biting his lower lip with eyes focused at his feet. She looked back at Odin, speaking. “How is Loki?”

Mike raised his head just enough to see Odin’s expression turn darker before he looked back down, pretending to find the floor more interesting. He began playing with his fingers, despite his attention on the conversation that Frigga had with Odin.

“He refuses to speak to me or anyone for that matter.” Odin sighed.

Frigga closed her eyes. “Would you talk to someone after they put a muzzle on your mouth?” she asked with slight anger heard in her voice. Seeing the expression on her husband’s face, she took a deep breath. “Why don’t you try to talk with him? Visit him, let him know you’re his son.”

“Frigga—” Odin began, but stopped with a sigh. He glanced at Mike, seeing his attention was flickering from his hands to them. “We shall talk about this matter later.” He said and caressed her chin before walking away with guards following behind.

Mike turned his head and watched Odin, his bluish green eyes following until he disappeared behind a corner. He looked at Frigga, who was looking at him with curiosity and he smiled, holding her hand without a second. They continued walking down the hallway, passing doors before they reached ones where two guards were standing in front.

“Your Majesty,” One spoke, but both bowed, stepping aside to let them pass.

“Thank you,” Frigga smiled and glanced at the boy. “We’re going to visit one of my sons. We shouldn’t be here, because many outlaws are spending their time here. People, who went against their King.” Mike was quietly listening as the doors slowly opened. His eyes immediately perked on the loud noise that came from behind. “If it gets overwhelming, tell me and we’ll leave.”

With a small nod of his head, they walked in. As some voice grew louder, Mike scooted closer to Frigga, who held his hand tighter, letting him know it was okay. They walked down the long hallway for a moment before they came to a stop in front of a room where a man stood, his back facing them.

“Loki,” Frigga called in soft voice.

Mike quietly watched the young man turn his head, his body hidden behind Frigga. A small smile spread over his lips when he saw the man’s mouth wasn’t covered anymore. He stepped from Frigga’s back and tilted head to the side when his eyes met Loki’s. He soon looked away, his expression sour and slightly angry.

“What are you doing here?” He spoke with voice cold.

Mike’s smile disappeared and he lowered his head, watching Loki from under his hair that covered his forehead.

“This young man wanted to meet you.” Frigga released Mike’s hand and placed it on the back of his head, giving him a small push forward.

The boy took a step forward, but the moment Loki’s eyes fell on him completely, he froze. He gulped and watched him in curiosity, watching how the man turned around, his focus completely on the boy. Frigga quietly stood beside, watching the two exchange unspoken conversation and she smiled softly.

“You were holding onto me.” Loki spoke, breaking the silence. “Why did you?” he asked.

“I was playing with mom.” Mike answered without feeling nervous. “She didn’t pay attention to me, so I wanted to hide.” He shrugged with shoulders and held hands behind his back, eyes averting to the side.

A smile spread over Loki’s lips. “And yet…you don’t seem afraid of me.” He mused and walked closer to the invisible wall. He knelt down, his green eyes staring into the younger ones. “You’re an interesting boy.”

Mike smiled widely and Frigga seemed contented at the turn of events.

—

“Miss Charles,” Tony called for the young woman.

Her dark eyes looked from her hands at the man, who approached her. She was sitting on a couch in Avengers tower. Standing up, she held her hands across her chest and bit her lower lip. “Did you find him?” she asked in a voice quiet, afraid of the truth.

“He’s on Asgard,” Tony began slowly and Natasha moved to the woman’s side, her hand on her back.

“Asgard?” She repeated in confusion. “Is that in America—wait no, what am I even talking about…” She laughed. “Oh god, is my son on an alien planet?” Her voice was raised an inch higher and Tony twitched as Natasha’s slow gesture stopped. “Oh my god, my son is on alien planet…” she buried her face in hands.

“If your husband is working, I believe it’d be best to contact him and explain the situation.” Natasha spoke in soft tone. “It’d be good for you to have someone by your side to comfort you.” she shortly explained.

Letting out a sigh, the woman shook with head. “I’m not married and even Mike’s father hasn’t contacted me since he found out I was pregnant.” She scowled. “I’ve been raising Mike on my own. I knew one day I’ll be punished for working all days…” Closing her eyes, she bit her lower lip hard. “I only want my son back.”

“We’ll get him back, Miss Charles.” Natasha assured her.

“Just Diana is fine…” She replied and smiled softly. “Thank you and I’m sorry. I should’ve watched him better.”

“Being a single parent takes a lot of confidence.” spoke Clint and walked to Diana’s other side. He smiled. “Your son is safe and will come back safe and well as well.”

Diana bit her lower lip and nodded. “Thank you…” She whispered and walked over to glass window, looking down at New York. Her eyes teared up as she caressed her upper arms, a shiver running down her spine. Looking up into sky, she nibbled on her lower lip. “I hope you’re well, Mike.”

Natasha and Clint looked at each other before they turned to Tony, whose eyebrows were narrowed. “What is it?” Natasha spoke.

“There’s a problem.” Tony hesitated. Natasha raised an eyebrow and the man sighed. “There’s no way to reach Asgard. That bridge, Bifrost, that connects the worlds is broken and it needs time to repair. So it’s hard to even contact Thor.” He glanced at Diana. “Practically, there’s no way to make a contact.”

“Shouldn’t we tell her then?” Natasha asked. “It’s best to tell her the truth than let her lead on on a path that might never happen. Is it even possible for Thor to even come to Earth?”

“I…I don’t know.” Tony sighed. “Bruce is working on this, trying to at least find a way to Asgard, but there’s no big chance.” He said and glanced at Diana, who continued to stare through the window. “Right now all we can hope is that Thor will bring him back.”

Natasha looked at Diana, her expression turning serious. Whatever was going on in Asgard it didn’t go well, that much was obvious.

“Oh,” Diana murmured. Clint, Natasha and Tony looked at her. “I-I should go home…” she murmured and turned to them. “Maybe… Maybe Mike will be home…” Biting her lower lip, she smiled nervously. “I should wait for him at home.”

“Diana,” Natasha walked to her. “You can stay here if you wish. No one is blaming you for what happened.” She smiled softly.

“I know…” Diana whispered with a nod. “I’m sorry…” she choked and covered her mouth. “I just…I can’t sit still while my son isn’t here…” she whispered.

“I understand,” Clint spoke and glanced at Tony, who shook with head. “But we’ll do our best to bring your son back.” He said with a smile that passed his lips for a split second, looking at Natasha. “Why don’t you stay here? Everything might end faster and you’ll have company. I know we’re just strangers, but we can help you.”

Diana looked from Clint to Natasha, biting her lower lip and tapping her foot from being nervous. “I…I don’t know…” she whispered and looked at Tony. “I…I don’t want to bother any of you.”

“You’re not.” Tony answered. “As a matter of fact, if we can help you, we will, since in a way it is our job to do so.” Natasha held Diana’s hands, making her look her way. “Not to mention Clint’s right. If you have company with you, you can get through this. Being alone sucks.”

Diana looked back at him and smiled softy. “Alright…” she nodded. “I’ll just go pick up some clothes and call my boss to come up with something.”

“No need to worry about that.” Tony said. Diana narrowed her eyebrows. “Consider it done.” Giving her a small smile, he turned on his heels and left the room, leaving Clint and Natasha alone with Diana.

“Did he…” Diana pointed after Tony, looking from one to another. “What just happened?” she murmured confused.

“Tony will take care of things while Steve and Bruce are working on things. Don’t worry.” Natasha smiled and caressed her shoulder. “Let me take you to one of the rooms. Perhaps would you like to have some tea?”

Blinking with her eyes, unshed tears were still visible in them, she nodded. “Please…” Diana spoke quietly.

Wrapping arms around Diana’s shoulders, Natasha looked at Clint, who nodded at her. “Well then…” she said and smiled softly as they walked towards doors. Diana quietly walked beside Natasha, her arms crossed over her chest. As they walked down the hallway towards elevator, Diana looked around. There were workers repairing some of the rooms and building as whole.

“Are you alright?” Natasha asked once they reached lower levels.

“Yes,” Diana nodded. “A bit shaken up, but okay. Perhaps a good sleep might help, I don’t know…” she sighed and messaged her temples, feeling a small headache coming.

Natasha smiled. “My room is right beside yours if you need anything.” Reaching for the doorknob, she opened and let Diana walk inside.

“Thank you,” The corners of Diana’s lips turned in a small smile. Before Natasha could turn and leave, she called her name. “Hey, Natasha,” The latter looked at her. “Could you…I mean… Can…” She closed her eyes and took a deep shaky breath. Opening them, she looked straight at her. “I don’t want to stay alone.” She whispered, afraid that her voice might crack if she spoke louder.

“You won’t.” Natasha said with assurance. “I’ll keep you company.” Taking a step forward, she added: “I’m sure you want to take a shower. In the meantime I’ll go find some clothes that you can have before someone brings yours.”

Cracking a smile, Diana nodded and looked around. “It’s kind of…big…” she murmured.

Natasha chuckled. “I know, but you’ll get used to it.”

“Yeah, I kind of…don’t want to…” Diana whispered. “I still have my life to take care of, you know? I’m not someone…who can fight like you are. I’m just…me… No one important.” She laughed and shook with head. “What am I even saying?” she murmured under her breath. “Please, don’t mind me.”

“It’s alright.” Natasha replied. “Take your time. I’ll tell you if we get any news.”

“Mm…” Diana nodded and watched Natasha leave the room, leaving her alone.

Once the doors closed behind her, Diana covered her mouth, a sob escaping her lips. She fell on her knees, holding for her stomach. With eyes shut tight and her shoulders shaking, she tried to stifle her cries that threatened to escape her. Her chest was heaving rapidly, trying to calm down.

“Mike…” she choked on the name of her son. “I’m so��so sorry…”

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #echoes of love #chapter 2 #fierysafrina

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fierysafrina · 6 years

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Echoes of Love | Loki (Chapter 2)

Fandom: Marvel Rating: General Genre: Romance | Hurt/Comfort | Fluff | Slice of Life | Drama | Angst | Comedy | Summary: Imagine you’re a Midgardian and already have a child. At the end of The Avengers, where Thor brought Loki back to Asgard, your son managed to sneak between the two brothers and went along. You panicked when you saw the scene unfold in front of your eyes, but Tony and Natasha assured you he’ll be fine and that Thor will bring him back. In the meantime, your son caught Loki’s heart with his big eyes and gentle heart, in a way reminding him of when he was a child. Notes: I managed to end chapter 2 before I stopped working lolol oh I missed getting motivation to write. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be updated, but it will be.....by the end of the month if not first week.. we'll see. Hope you'll like it.

AO3

CHAPTER 1 | HERE | CHAPTER 3