#and second. i am free of the Sickness but i had a 50 hour work week so im sry it took me so long to come back!!!!

[dawnedon]

"... I have got to stop disappearing under mysterious circumstances."

#👻 ic. #👻 open. #so first of all. wtf happened to my dash. it looks wack af now #and second. i am free of the Sickness but i had a 50 hour work week so im sry it took me so long to come back!!!! #more Cryptid Content comin at u tho!!

[snowdice]

Big Bang Editing Story [Day 108]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51

I am going to so get interrupted immediately, but I’ll get to work on this for a bit.

Chapter 52 (Mr. Deknis)

It was Jeffers Deknis’s second busiest time of year right after the fall harvest. However, unlike the fall harvest, not all of his workers were yet at the castle. The winter had been harsh and while the last snowfall had been a month ago, many of his workers whose families lived far from the castle had sent word they would be late arriving for various reasons. A few were dealing with sick relatives and others had to help fix things broken by storms for their families before making the trek. One who lived in the mountains up north was still snowed in.

So, he was dealing with only about 70% of his usual staff, meaning he was even busier than he usually was in the spring.

However, despite how busy he was, he didn’t mind taking a bit of time out of his schedule to help plant a little plot of land he’d reserved for a special selection of plants.

Virgil has spent a lot of time deciding on what plant he wanted to grow in the plot Jerffers had given him. He’d combed through multiple books even though it quickly became clear he couldn’t read well and talked to Jeffers about his options extensively before finally coming to a decision.

He’d decided on a flower called Zygopetalum maculatum which was a type of orchid. It wouldn’t be an easy flower to grow considering they didn’t naturally have the right climate for it, but with a bit of magical fertilizer and ruins in the ground near them, it was feasible.

Since Virgil had chosen his flower, Jeffers had dedicated a bit of his time each day to explaining what they needed to do for it to grow and had set him up with the correct materials. Virgil had spent a good chunk of the last two weeks outside on his marked off plot of land doing as instructed to get the soil in the right condition.

Sometimes Logan and Patton joined him and sometimes he was alone, but he was clearly dedicated to his task. Jeffers had stopped by and tested the soil the day before and found it was adequately prepared for planting Virgil’s flowers and had told the boy as much.

Despite being already very busy, Jeffers had allowed for an hour out of his schedule to help Virgil plant his flowers this afternoon.

Even though Jeffers had told him exactly where in his schedule he’d made time for it, Virgil had come early.

Very early.

He’d stalked Jeffers’ footsteps all day. If the boy were a cat, Jeffers would have assumed he’d accidentally left a slice of meat in his back pocket after breakfast.

Jeffers ended up letting him help with a few other things in the morning which he seemed to enjoy. He seemed to appreciate planting things even if they weren’t his flowers. He was also good at it if a bit slower than necessary in his caution to make sure he didn’t mess anything up.

Jeffers ended up sending Patton to get an extra packed lunch from Helen for Virgil (as people didn’t like when the gardeners tracked mud into the dinning hall) and they ended up eating while sitting on the base of the fountain by the plot of land Virgil had been tending to.

The water in the fountain was now flowing, having recently been cleaned and turned on and birds were chirping in the distance. It was a nice, calming environment. This was why Jeffers liked to spend so much time outside. Or at least, it was one of the reasons.

There was a soft meow from beside them that drew Jeffers’ attention. Jeffers looked down to see one of the castle’s many cats standing on its hind legs with one of its paws on the fountain’s base. It was staring at them expectantly. Jeffers recognized the yellow stripped cat as one of the friendlier ones that Patton had tamed as a kitten. It meowed again when it saw him looking.

“What?” Jeffers asked it, raising one eyebrow. “I know you’re not starving.”

It meowed again in complaint. Then it turned to Virgil. Virgil was instantly tearing off a bit of his chicken sandwich to feed to the cat.

“You don’t need to feed him,” Jeffers said. “Patton takes care of that plenty well.”

Despite what Jeffers had said, the cat gobbled up the piece of chicken Virgil had fed him like he was starving.

“It’s Buttercup,” Virgil informed Jeffers. The name vaguely rang a bell.

“You remember all of Patton’s names for them?” Jeffers asked, honestly impressed. There were so many cats.

Virgil nodded and ripped off another piece of chicken. The cat went flying at it with gusto.

“Keep some for yourself too,” Jeffers said. “You look less fed than the cats.” Thankfully he was looking more fed than he had at the beginning of winter.

“But he’s hungry,” Virgil replied with a frown.

“He’s a glutton is what he is,” Jeffers said. “He’s already had his lunch by now I’d imagine and is more than free to hunt down rodents in the barn if he needs a snack.”

Virgil frowned and gave the cat another piece of chicken.

“You’re too good of a kid,” Jeffers said with an eyeroll.

Virgil just frowned at him and took a bite of his sandwich for himself this time.

“Make sure to eat extra dinner if you’re going to feed the cats your lunch,” Jeffers said. “Though I’m sure Helen will be feeding you extra by default when she hears you’ve been helping me in the garden all day.”

“I’m fine,” Virgil said, stubbornly. He took another bite of his sandwich and fed another to the cat.

Jeffers considered him. ‘Fine,’ was a very vague word and his powers didn’t ping on it as a lie because it could mean a variety of things. He had a feeling Virgil knew that.

Jeffers wasn’t a fool. The kids had been talking around his powers about something all summer, though he couldn’t figure out what exactly it was about. Virgil was almost as good at it as Logan. Maybe he was even better.

“Not hungry enough to eat the entire sandwich by yourself then?” Jeffers asked.

Instead of replying verbally, Virgil just shrugged. Clever little bastard.

Jeffers sighed. Helen had packed some of the canned peaches in their lunches, so Jeffers pulled his out and set the container next to the boy. Virgil looked at the offering in surprise.

“Cats don’t eat peaches,” he cautioned. “It’s bad for their digestion.”

“I don’t need to take your food,” Virgil said with a frown.

“Yeah, you do,” said Jeffers. “I’m and old man, not a growing boy. You should eat them.”

Virgil frowned and looked like he was about to argue.

“Eat your lunch so we can plant your flowers kid,” Jeffers huffed.

Virgil hesitated, but the idea of getting to plant his flowers seemed to trump his desire to argue with Jeffers about lunch and he picked up the dish of peaches.

Jeffers went about finishing what was left of his lunch as Virgil continued to eat his own. The cat ran off when it noticed there was no more meat available.

Jeffers rolled his eyes. The thing was probably running off to go scam more people out of their lunch. Patton had spoiled them far too much and they were too good at making cute starving expressions.

“Alright,” Jeffers said once they were done. “Are you ready to plant your orchids.”

Virgil nodded eagerly and Jeffers packed away their trash before getting up.

“Good,” Jeffers said. “You have all of the supplies I told you we needed gathered?”

Virgil nodded and started to list off everything that Jeffers had said.

“Then, we can get started planting,” Jeffers said with a smile.

  Chapter 53 (Virgil)

Virgil and Mr. Deknis took their time planting the orchids. Virgil had done everything Mr. Deknis had instructed him to do with the plot of land prior to planting. He’d had Mr. Deknis write it all down, so Logan could read him the instructions each morning, and had dutifully followed each step. The sheet of paper was in Virgil’s pocket even now. He knew the words so well at this point that he could have recited each list item even if it had words he still couldn’t read.

It had been hard work getting the soil just right for the flowers he wanted to plant, but it was fun hard work. Working hard was different when he didn’t have to do something but wanted to do something. He’d also noticed it was easier to do physical labor when he wasn’t hungry, something he hadn’t been all winter in the castle.

He’d thought since he hadn’t been training as much as usual over the winter months that he’d be weaker when Spring came, but he actually felt stronger and had much more energy.

He’d also grown taller without realizing it thanks to Logan’s nutrition potion. He’d noticed when he’d been in the shed earlier. When he’d first hid in the shed upon arriving at the castle the previous fall, he’d been able to walk under all of the hanging tools in the back. Today, he’d hit his head on some of the them.

His body had changed a lot in the past few months. It made planting with Mr. Deknis much easier.

Virgil had already helped Mr. Deknis with planting some vegetables this Spring, but he still was careful to pay attention as the gardener showed him how to plant the first few orchid bulbs.

Then, Virgil was handed the container of bulbs for himself to try planting. Mr. Deknis watched him plant the first few orchids and Virgil glanced up for approval before moving on each time. He always got a nod and small smile.

Eventually, Mr. Deknis took a few bulbs himself to the opposite end of the patch of soil and started planting some himself, trusting Virgil to plant his portion of the flowers right without supervision. Virgil couldn’t help but be happy about the show of trust given to him.

“Good job,” Mr. Deknis said after the two of them had planted two rows of orchids. “You’ve got an eye for planting things.”

“Thanks,” Virgil said bashfully.

“How old are you again?”

“I’m 14,” Virgil said, unsure why he was asking.

Mr. Deknis nodded. “Maybe in a few years you’ll want to get a job as one of the gardeners here,” he said. “I could always use one who knows how to respect plants like you and with how much you’ve been volunteering to help already, you’ll know a good amount by then.”

“Really?” Virgil asked.

Mr. Deknis nodded.

“Why not now?”

“You’re only 14,” Mr. Deknis said. “You don’t need to worry about working. I’m happy to let you tag along and watch or even help a bit with planting when you want, but you should just be a kid.”

That confused Virgil. He’d been considered out of training to be an assassin as soon as he’d turned 14-years-old last fall. Now he was being told he needed to wait a few years to help plant seeds?

“I could do it,” Virgil said.

“I know you could,” Mr. Deknis said, “but you don’t need to. Have a little fun this summer.”

“But I want to,” Virgil said.

Mr. Deknis huffed out a laugh. “I know,” he said, “and you can feel free to care for your orchids and help me out all you want, but no jobs until you’re at least 16.”

“It’s better than any other jobs I’ve had,” Virgil muttered, honestly annoyed he couldn’t become a gardener right now because of his age.

Mr. Deknis raised an eyebrow. “And what other jobs have you had?”

Virgil froze. That was not a good line of questioning. “Uh…” Virgil said and Mr. Deknis’s expression was changing in an alarming way. “Different things. I’ve carried things for people and, uh, cleaned.”

“Carried things and cleaned, huh?” Mr. Desknis said. It felt like he wasn’t only testing Virgil’s words for lies but observing his face and posture too.

Virgil should be good at lying. He should. That was a major part of being an assassin, but Virgil had started to slip after spending so long around people who were not a danger to him.

At least not a danger to him as long as he didn’t get caught in a lie.

He’d been sloppy with the way he’d frozen when asked a question and with the stuttering. He should have been prepared; he was prepared for the next question.

“You only had to carry things and clean some things up?” Mr. Deknis asked, his eyebrows still raised.

Virgil carefully smoothed out his face, forcing his shoulder to relax as he shrugged. “And some other things,” he said easily. Not a lie. He could feel his heart race anyway.

Mr. Deknis’s eyes bored into him for a long moment and then he titled his head to the side and squinted at him.

Virgil just shot him a small smile. “Can we finish planting the flowers, please?” he asked politely. “I was very excited about it and would like to finish it today.”

Mr. Deknis did not reply for a long moment, and Virgil was careful to keep his expression blank.

Finally, the gardener relented, breaking his stare. If this was because he believed Virgil or not was unclear.

“Yeah, kid,” he said slowly. “Let’s finish planting your flowers.”

Virgil nodded, and he didn’t have to lie as much now as cautious eagerness returned to him. He really did want to finish planting his flowers in addition to stopping Mr. Deknis from asking uncomfortable questions about where Virgil had come from.

Mr. Deknis nodded to the bag of bulbs. They went back to work planting the flowers, but Virgil could feel Mr. Deknis’s eyes on him almost constantly. He had a feeling that this time, he wasn’t watching for how well Virgil was planting the bulbs, but something else.

Virgil was careful to not let his mask slip at all the entire time.

When they were finished planting Virgil’s entire plot of land, they cleaned up the equipment and stored it back away in the garden shed.

Another day Virgil might have stayed and helped Mr. Deknis with other things. Today he was still trying to cover for his bad lying earlier, however, so, Virgil decided to just go back to the castle and shower.

To his surprise Mr. Deknis also started walking off in the direction of the castle.

“Don’t you have more planting to do?” Virgil asked when they got to the door. He knew the man was very busy and his workday was only a bit more than half over.

“I do,” Mr. Deknis confirmed, “but I needed to talk to the king about something first.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Okay. I’m going to go shower.”

Mr. Deknis nodded. “I’ll see you sometime later then,” he said.

“Thank you for helping me plant the orchids.”

Mr. Deknis smiled slightly at that. “Anytime, kid.”

  Chapter 54 (Patton)

“I still can’t believe he’s allowing this,” King Thomas said from next to Patton. The two of them were standing at the edge of the arena outside the horse stable, watching from a safe distance.

“If he hadn’t tried to bite me earlier, I’d think he was a different horse,” Patton agreed.

“He doesn’t even let Logan ride him,” the king said. “At least not ride him and give him directions.”

Patton was very aware of that. Logan did on occasion choose to get up onto Mr. Apple’s saddle. However, Mr. Apples was always the once who got to decide where they went after that. Logan had no say.

 With that in mind, Patton, Logan, and every stable hand who’d heard about the prospective riding lessons had tried to convince Virgil to learn to ride on a different horse. Virgil was just as stubborn as Mr. Apples however and had insisted. Logan, being the only one who could be around Mr. Apples without risk had become his defacto tutor.

Not even Logan could have expected that within a week, Virgil would be able to control Mr. Apples. Though perhaps ‘control’ was the wrong word. Nothing could control Mr. Apples, but for some reason, Mr. Apples seemed willing to do as Virgil asked.

 Even right now Mr. Apples was trotting around the training arena like he was a well-trained trick horse warming up with its rider.

“Logan told him we could go on an actual ride today if the lesson went well,” Patton told the king. The lesson seemed to be just getting over because Logan said something to Virgil and Virgil started to climb off. Mr. Apples was patient and still as he dismounted.

“Do you think he’d mind if I went with you?” King Thomas asked.

Patton shrugged. “Mr. Apples might.”

“Mr. Apples definitely will,” the king replied. “I’ll come anyway.”

 Logan had walked over to where Patton and the king were standing while Virgil fed Mr. Apples some apple pieces as a reward.

“I hear you are going to go riding today,” king Thomas said.

Logan nodded. “Mr. Apples seems to listen to him well enough,” he said.

“I might join you if that’s alright. Where are you kids going?” the king asked.

“I was thinking the main forest path,” Logan replied. “It’s not a particularly difficult route, but it’s also a part of the castle grounds Virgil hasn’t been able to see yet. Loraine told me it has been recently cleared after the winter.”

 “That sounds like a good idea,” the king said. “Are you going now?”

“Once Patton and I saddle up our horses,” Logan said. “You can come.”

“Great,” the king said with a smile. “I’ll ask for Bella’s saddle to be brought out. I haven’t gone on a ride yet this week.”

He turned then to walk towards the stables leaving Patton and Logan alone.

“Do you think he’s been acting weird?” Logan asked, turning towards Patton.

Patton frowned. “No,” he said. “Not really.”

“I’m just wondering why he wants to go horseback riding with us.”

“He likes spending time with you?” Patton guessed.

 “Yes,” Logan said, “but typically in a setting that doesn’t involve Mr. Apples.”

Well, that was fair.

“I mean, it’s not too weird,” Patton said, thinking back through the last couple of days. King Thomas had been a bit… clingy.

“He’s been hanging around a lot,” Logan said, echoing Patton’s thoughts with narrowed eyes. He glanced back at Virgil. “You don’t think Virgil let something slip, do you?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Patton said. “I think your dad would say something if he let slip he was an assassin somehow.”

“Unless he let slip something that didn’t quite implicate himself but invited suspicion.”

 “Your dad doesn’t seem suspicious,” Patton said. At least, Patton didn’t think he did. He hadn’t been acting mean in any way. In fact, he might have even been acting nicer.

Logan frowned. “We should keep an eye on him, especially around Virgil.”

Patton bit his lip.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Are we ever going to tell your dad about Virgil?” he asked.

Logan hesitated. “I don’t…” he trailed. “I’m not sure.”

“It just feels weird lying for so long,” Patton said. Patton didn’t lie a lot. Sure, maybe he’d pretend to not know what Mama was talking about when sweets went missing from the kitchens or he’d pretend to not know what Logan’s birthday gift was, but he’d never lied about anything serious before now.

 “I know, but,” Logan glanced back at Virgil once again, “even if we did decide to tell, we’d have to convince Virgil everything would be alright beforehand. I don’t think we’re at that point yet. He was terrified of Father until a few months ago, and he’s still cautious around him sometimes.”

Logan was right, of course. Virgil was getting more and more comfortable around the king, but he figured any of the progress made would go down the drain as soon as they brought up telling King Thomas about where exactly Virgil had come from. Patton didn’t know if Virgil would ever be comfortable enough.

#proofread stories #not writing

[caffeinated-chaos-bean]

I love you, each and every one of you!

I just want to say thank you to everyone who has come in an helped me stay on my feet this past few weeks. It means the world to me and I want to let you all know that I greatly appreciate it, more than I probably could express into words.

I get paid tomorrow, and will be going to get the second half of my vet bill paid as soon as I get off work. I’ve spoken with my grandpa, as well, and he’s fine with me doing $50 here and there to slowly pay him back, so he isn’t expecting it all in one go thankfully. Would the latter be ideal? Sure, I don’t like being in debt lol. But at least he does consider the fact it isn’t something I can scrounge up all at once, so giving him bits of it here and there being enough for him takes more of that stress off of me.

In addition to the vet situation, Sirius is doing so so much better. His abscess, which originally was almost the size of a golf ball, has reduced tremendously. It’s probably the size of a 50-cent piece and is draining nicely. We gently scrubbed a scab off last night since it still is trying to drain and we don’t want it to close up before it’s completely better, but he didn’t fuss over that. He trusts us more than the vets lol. He finished his amoxicillin (he had the bubblegum good stuff) on Saturday and is doing well. We have kept an eye on him throughout this, given it was a raccoon that got ahold of him, but we still have yet to see any signs of rabies or temper disruptions almost 2 and a half weeks later, which is hopefully a good sign. He’s acting normal, doesn’t seem to be in pain anymore, and is back to his screamy gremlin self again. He’s stayed by my side at night and sleeps with me like he used to (before he went to the vet he just slept in the hallway).

And on an even higher note, I had my interview this morning and maybe 3 to 4 hours later, before I even was off work today, I was told they were going to give me the position. I have gotten what I wanted in that regard and finally can move to a department that will pay me more that $15 an hour with pretty crappy tips (I walked out with less than $10 after they were split today) and that is something that really boosted my mood. I was given this position even despite one of my coworkers, specifically the one I ranted about the other day, didn’t show up today and made us aware 2 hours later when supervisors finally got ahold of her that she had put her 2 weeks in and was NOT coming in and had quit lmao. I hopefully will be starting this position in the next couple weeks when my next pay period begins, so if that’s the case I jsut have to make it through the rest of this week and all of next week. Just two more weeks and then I’m free from the chaos of food service. I have to thank @strawberry-metal, @kazekothestrange, and all of you who kept this in your thoughts and prayed for me to get the position. Whatever or whoever you have prayed to, they clearly listened and took it to heart. So for that, I am eternally grateful.

So far, the only bad news I’ve been dealt amidst all the good was my mom had a packet of paperwork in our P.O. box today that informed her that she was yet again denied on her social security disability income. She apparently was denied back in April, but we never had received any letter saying so. It wasn’t until we got this paperwork that we found out. She’s pretty stressed out and feeling sick from it, especially since she’s been at this for 6 years now and still is being denied. She’s vented to me today about our situation and how she doesn't have any income to help the situation. I had to prod by saying “Geez, you’re having a bad day.” in order to get her to speak her mind, but for once... she didn’t really seem to take it out on me. She just... ranted while in the Starbucks drive thru for a minute and then got quiet again. That’s an improvement tbh, because when my ex lived with us and for a few months after he left, she took all of her anger and frustrations out on me and would be downright nasty. So, given I didn’t feel like I was being a receiver this time is really a big improvement.

So that’s 3 good hands and only one 1 hand. I’d say that’s pretty good regarding how things have been since my wisdom tooth removal. I’m so thankful for all of you who have stuck with me through this and have even stepped up to help me financially stay afloat until my next paycheck. I can’t say thank you enough or accurately express how much it means to me.

I love all of you, each and every one of you. Thank you.

#mun #admin #alice #mun speaks #admin speaks #alice speaks #appreciation #appreciation post #thanks #thank you #thank you watchers #thank you friends #thank you anons #thank you everyone

[mostlybarnes]

I Love You

Summary: The five times you wanted to tell Bucky you loved him and the one time you did.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mutual pining, idiots in love, friends to lovers, fluff, brief mentions of injuries. Not a single curse word, are you proud of me Steve? 😏

Words: 1,347

Author’s Notes: I’ve had this thing *waves hand at the summary* on my mind the whole heckin’ day and my mind screamed at me to write it. I made this little divider thing, it’s so cute I love it and I’m proud of myself.

My permanent taglist is open, please let me know if I’ve missed you or if you want to join!

Telling someone you loved them was no easy task, especially if the person you wanted to tell was just a friend. How do you tell someone who is your friend that you want to spend the rest of your life with them and that you love them more than life itself?

Well, the first time you wanted to tell Bucky you loved him was when he got back to the compound after a brutal mission that ended up going south and some of his ribs were broken from the fight. You were scared that you would lose him, and you didn’t want to waste time by not telling him of your true feelings.

You gnawed on your lip nervously as you watched him stagger through the hallway with his bionic arm around Steve and his right arm pressing on a bloody wound that seeped through his fingers. Blood dripped down the side of his face and even from the distance you could see he had blood in his hair and dirt under his nails. He looked a mess and the cold look in his eyes made you think twice about dropping a ‘I love you’ bombshell on him right now. Now wasn’t the time, now wasn’t the place.

You let it go for now, allowing Steve to take him to the medical bay to get patched up while you trudged slowly back to your room, hoping and praying Bucky was going to be alright. He was a strong super soldier, of course he was going to be.

The second time you wanted to tell Bucky you loved him was a couple of days after that mission. He was sitting at the dining table alone spooning a mouthful of Cap’n Crunch and reading the newspaper.

“Good mornin’ Buck! How are you?” You greeted him with a warm smile. He looked up from his paper and offered a tight lipped smile in return. His lip was cut from being punched by a hydra agent and he had some deep cuts and bruises over his face and body.

“Hey Y/N! Doing alright doll, injuries are finally healing. How are you?”

How were you, really? Is this the part where you tell him you haven’t slept so much because you’ve been so worried? Does that sound weird? Or is this the part where you tell him what’s on your heart?

“I’m… just a bit tired but doing okay.” You said instead after a few minutes of thinking about what to say. The truth is, you were absolutely terrified of rejection. With other guys, it wouldn’t have mattered so much but Bucky meant the world to you. If you ended up telling him you loved him and he didn’t feel the same way, then everything would be ruined and you know he isn’t the kind of guy that accepts apologies so easily and quickly. The last thing you wanted to do was make things awkward between the two of you.

“You sure? You seem like you have something on your mind there?” He stares back at you with his features softened. Bucky cared and he cared a lot.

You smiled and nodded your head. Only thing on my mind is you, Barnes. “I promise I’m okay, just tired.”

He nodded his head a few times before smiling back at you. “Take a seat.” He motioned to the chair opposite him, “let me get you some breakfast and coffee.”

Like I said, he cared a lot.

The third time you wanted to tell Bucky you loved him was during a trip to the beach with the avengers to take advantage of a free day for everyone and with the sun shining, the temperatures rising, it was just perfect. Tony suggested a relaxing day and this was definitely it. A few hours on the beach seemed to melt any worries and stress you had, and you found yourself smiling and laughing a lot more today.

Bucky was also in a very good mood, he had a constant smile on his face and he was even cracking jokes with Tony and Sam. He was shirtless, not caring if anyone saw his arm and he enjoyed swimming because the water was much cooler against the summer heat.

Bucky was laying next to you with his arms under his head and his ankles crossed over the other as you made sure every inch of his skin was covered in sunscreen. He looked so peaceful, so calm and the words almost spilled out. Almost. Until Tony decided to ruin the moment.

“Hey kid, if you’re done with the sunscreen, can you throw it back to me?” You threw it and Tony caught it easily. When you looked back at Bucky, he was grinning with his sunglasses up on his forehead.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me doll.”

“Of course! Sunburn is no joke, it’s painful because it feels like your body is on fire.”

“Well, good thing we got this huge umbrella over us.” You nodded in agreement and took in the breeze of the warm air as the heat made you feel sleepy.

The fourth time you wanted to tell Bucky you loved him was after his Tinder date stood him up at the restaurant he worked hard to make a reservation for. He came back to the compound looking down and upset. You made him some herbal tea and listened to him without any interruptions.

“I just wish I could find somebody who would love me, ya know? Someone who would love me for who I am.” He sighed, keeping his eyes on the swirling tea.

I love you Buck, you wanted to say so badly. You wanted to let those three words out and break free from the chains.

“I absolutely do understand. You deserve someone who would give you the world.” Bucky looked deep in your eyes, and you felt scared he would see your real meaning behind it. Eyes gave a lot of answers away if you weren’t careful and he was trained to read people like a book. He always knew you were sick before you even became sick. And he knew if you were sad, happy or even anxious and he seemed to know the reasons why behind every emotion. He gulped and nodded, finishing the rest of his drink before bidding you a goodnight. For the first time in a long time, you felt worried and anxious. You felt as if he knew something.

Bucky did know something, he heard the crack in your voice and the way your eyes focused on him as you spoke, as though you were in a daydream. Your eyes gave him the biggest clue and he was thankful for that because he didn’t want to look like an idiot when he asked you out.

Little did you know, Bucky had feelings for you too. You were more than a friend to him and he daydreamed about the future and you were his future. A picket fence house, children, pets. A happy marriage and a happy family. Bucky had plans to ask you out, he just hoped he hadn’t looked at the whole situation wrong.

The sixth time you wanted to tell Bucky you loved him and succeeded was after your first date. He asked you out a few days after everything happened with his failed date. He took you to a quiet restaurant where you wouldn’t be disturbed by the public, you drank wine, listened to the violins in the background and ate dinner.

The flames from the candles illuminated your skin and Bucky became mesmerized by your soft glowing features. You were his dream come true and the moment those words came from your mouth, it had felt like the whole world was lifted off your shoulders.

“I love you too, doll. You’re it for me, I don’t want anyone else.” He smiled down at you, bumping your noses together adorably.

“I’m glad to see that, Barnes. I’m afraid to tell you you’re stuck with me.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, doll. Till the end of the line.”

Permanent taglist [4/50]: @w-wolfhxrd @team-marvel13 @ripredwing @certainaesthetic

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #mutual pining #friends to lovers #the first five times #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky one shot #bucky oneshot #bucky drabbles #bucky drabble #bucky barnes drabble #drabble #one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #imagines #avenger au #scenarios #margo writes

[bunnysuit-femboy]

The Worst Wingman - Tiger’s Eye and Gold

(Chapter 2 / 3)

Jean x Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Previous Chapter

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting, Implied sex

Summary: Jean sucks at picking blind dates for you, but at least he’s trying. After one final attempt at finding love at the hands of Jean, he goes on a double date with you and the newest boy he’s thrown onto you. The boy is everything you never knew you needed, and Jean has to push down his growing feelings at the idea of you being happy without him.

Notes: I am not shitting on polpette di cavallo or the consumption of horse meat in general, I understand that it is a popular Italian dish and I was only mocking my ignorance towards the subject! (Plus, I thought it’d be funny to make a horse joke in a Jean x Reader)

Second Saturday

The night air wasn’t chilly, but you stayed by Jean’s side nonetheless. You pressed against his arm, using his body heat to keep yourself warm. And, Jean didn’t mind the close company - he actually liked it when you got close to him, it was the same reason he cuddled with you so often.

You and Jean stood outside of an unfamiliar restaurant, waiting for the last two people of the party to show up and to inform the hostess of their reservation. You normally hated double dates because the other couple always seemed to have more fun than you. But, you felt safe by Jean’s side, you knew he’d go as far as blatantly ignoring his date if it meant he got to have one conversation with you. Maybe that was selfish to think, but you didn’t mind, you’d probably never use him anyways - only keeping him as plan B in a worst case scenario.

But, you surprisingly had faith. Maybe - just maybe - this date will be your last one in a very long time. Maybe you would fall in love with this football player. Maybe you’d marry him and eventually start a family. Maybe you’d make sure to visit this same restaurant every anniversary - a physical monument of where your love had sprouted.

And then, as the years ticked by in your relationship, maybe you’d find yourselves growing sick of each other. Maybe you’d come home early from work and find him fucking his secretary over his desk in his home office. Maybe you’d stay with him, but only for the kids. Maybe - just maybe - you’d be able to ignore the whole affair just to pretend you love him for a few more years until your eventual death.

Oh God, love was exhausting - even to think about. And, it always seemed to end in pain, no matter how in love the couple seemed to be once upon a time.

It was hard to ignore the facts, and the inevitable ending to all things good. It was hard to ignore the over 50% of people who got divorced each year. And, it was hard to pretend you were more deserving of a lifelong fantastic marriage full of love and laughter just because-

“What are you thinking about?” Jean asked with a giggle.

You looked up at the boy, your eyebrows furrowed, “Huh?”

Jean smiled wide, “You look like you’re going to be sick.” He looked around quickly, taking in the sight of the other couples also waiting for a table inside. “Do you want to leave? We can go back to mine and forget this entire night was supposed to happen.”

“No,” You said quickly, “I want to meet him. You went through so much work to convince him to go on this date, why would I throw that away so easily?”

“Not really.” Jean frowned lightly as he looked past you, clearly reliving memories in his head, “I didn’t really do anything, actually.”

It was true, all Jean had to do was show the football player a picture of you and he was in. Jean had started the conversation by asking the football player’s schedule for the next weekend and if he was free for a date that Saturday. At first, the boy continuously refused any date, saying he needed the day to practice before the next game, but Jean showed the boy a picture instead of arguing with his words.

The football player fell completely silent, staring at Jean’s phone with widened eyes. It was hard to say no to a date with you - to put it simply, you were a goddess. The football player continued to stare at the picture of you, taken last Halloween when you and Jean had dressed as a witch and her black cat familiar; you being the witch and Jean being your cat. It was Jean’s favorite picture of you because you showed your candid smile as you laughed at one of Jean’s jokes, instead of your fake smile you saved for pictures.

The football player quickly agreed to the date after seeing the picture. He gave Jean his number, urging Jean to text him the time and place. He’d be there, the football player promised, he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Sure,” You said sarcastically, “I’m sure you had to promise him a month’s supply of-” You took a moment to remember what football players liked other than football- “Steroids.”

“Seriously?” Jean asked with a laugh, “Keep the steroids jokes to a minimum when he shows up, okay?” Jean furrowed his eyebrows. “Actually, don’t mention steroids at all when he gets here.”

You sighed, “If it’s any consolation, I was going to say protein powder.” You turned to Jean, slightly tilting your head. “Can I make protein powder jokes when he’s here?”

Jean frowned at you, “I guess-”

“And,” You added with a grin, “Can I make shoulder pad jokes?”

“I suppose-”

“And, can I make football field jokes? Or, is that too much as well?”

“Okay,” Jean said as he threw an arm around your shoulders, “I see what you’re doing.” Jean shoved your face into his chest which had always been his favorite way to shut you up. You inhaled the familiar scent of his clothes, and the unfamiliar scent of a new cologne he wore specifically for this date. “You’re such a smart ass.”

You pushed your head out from between his chest and arm, “You’re ruining my hair, you bastard!”

Jean laughed as he pulled you closer to him, “It still looks great, don’t worry about it.”

“Hey, Jean,” A new voice said from only a few feet away, “And-”

Jean pushed you from his body, allowing you to extend a single hand in the blonde boy’s direction, “Hi, it’s lovely to meet you.” You told the boy your name before he finally introduced himself.

The boy shook your hand with a strong grasp, “I’m Reiner-”

“And, I’m Pieck,” A black haired girl said as she poked her head out from behind Reiner’s broad back. The girl stood in front of Jean and smiled up at him, “And, I suppose you’re my date. Unless she is-” Pieck glanced at you- “Which I’m more than okay with as well.”

“No,” Jean said quickly, “I am.”

“Awesome,” Pieck said with a smile, “Is there a table being readied for us inside or-”

“I have a reservation,” Reiner said, “The table should’ve been readied about ten minutes ago, when we were supposed to be here - Pieck - if you didn’t take an hour just to pick a dress.”

Pieck smiled wide though her words were drenched in venom, “I thought you said you’d stop mentioning that once we got here, Reiner.” Pieck turned to her friend with a tilt of her head. “Am I correct?”

Reiner’s face dropped as well as his stomach, “Of course, I’m sorry, Pieck.”

“So,” Jean said to fill the new silence that had settled, “You all think we should head inside now?”

“Yes!” Pieck said as she ran to Jean’s side, sliding her arm around his and pulling him off towards the front doors of the restaurant. You couldn’t help but pout at their backs as they walked off, noticing how close they immediately got with each other and even the new smile plastered across Jean’s face.

“And,” A gentle voice said suddenly from your left, “‘You ready to head inside as well?”

You looked at the boy by your side and took in the sight of his arm thrusted in your direction. His arm was thick, as much as a football player’s arm is supposed to be. And - if you looked close enough - you could see where his muscle was bulging beneath the fabric of his button down shirt and where the veins of his arms were protruding from within his skin.

You walked inside the restaurant by Reiner’s side, intertwining your arm with his. He talked briefly with the hostess at the entrance, and then walked with you as the group was led to a large table in the back. The table was sensually dimmed and if you were here with only one person, you were sure you would end the night in their arms - the atmosphere was enough to cause your heart rate to accelerate and butterflies to flutter around in your stomach.

You took the seat across from your date, and Pieck quickly took the seat to your right. The night started slowly, a light stream of conversation amongst the four of you. You talked about the general information of each person; their college major, their hobbies, their living situations, their weekend plans, and anything else someone could think of in the heat of the moment.

The night was going swimmingly, you ordered the white wine and a dish going by the name of polpette di cavallo which you hadn’t given much thought to before ordering. It was a smaller dish than what you were originally expecting, a white porcelain plate with a mysterious brown substance surrounding three meatballs.

You pushed your fork and knife through the slightly charred meat, cutting the balls into consumable pieces. You continued to talk with the group and - more specifically - Reiner. You found out more about the boy you were on the date with, from his personal life to his football career to his plans after college.

He was sweet, he was funny, and he always gave you time to speak - continuously asking you questions about yourself.

But, unfortunately for him, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jean. He talked with Pieck to your right, and you couldn’t help but listen to every word exchanged between the two. Even going as far as cutting into their conversation a few times and answering a question clearly directed at Jean.

“And then,” You said in response to Pieck’s question, “Jean went back to the party to pick Connie up because he finally realized he left him behind!”

Pieck giggled loudly, “That’s amazing!” She completely turned in her seat, now facing you instead of her date. “Then, what happened?”

You leaned closer to the girl, “Then, he called and begged me to meet him at the party.” You grinned wider. “Because, he didn’t want to leave again after going back.”

Pieck quickly turned back to Jean, “Why didn’t you want to leave? Even after Sasha threw that drink in your face?” Pieck then looked back at you. “And, why did he call you to come to the party as well?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at Pieck, “I’m actually not sure-”

Jean shrugged lightly, “I just- I wanted another beer and I needed somebody to drive me home afterwards.”

You turned your gaze to Jean, your eyes lit  with a new fury. That was why he called you that night? For a damn ride, not even for your company? It was always strange to you how Jean could be so casually cruel. He’d speak before thinking and end up breaking a piece of your heart without  noticing - and he did it frequently.

“Seriously,” The word was drenched in hurt as you shouted it across the table at Jean, “That’s seriously all you called me for? You just wanted a ride, Kirstein?”

Jean scratched the back of his neck, “I know you don’t really like drinking so I wasn’t worried about you getting drunk-”

“What do you mean I don’t like drinking?” You thrusted your hand towards your half-full glass of white wine. “I drink all of the time, I’m a real maniac.”

Jean smiled, “Oh, you’re crazy-” Jean leaned on the table, coming closer to you- “I mean, you really are a maniac -  How can you possibly slowly sip white wine at an Italian restaurant?”

And, as quickly as Jean could upset you and break your heart, he could just as quickly mend your broken parts.

You bit your lip to hide your new smile, “I can go crazy-” You leaned towards Jean as well- “Sometimes, I sip from your beers and then I immediately regret it because it’s gross.”

“Oh,” Jean giggled with the word, “You’re wild.”

It was like time had stopped completely - which seemed to happen a lot when around Jean. You were sure it was because he was too beautiful not to stare at, and Father Time helped you by stopping everything altogether. Or, you thought the effect of time stopping was purely psychological considering how deeply you knew the boy. But, whatever the reason, time stopped nonetheless.

You sat motionless, only looking into Jean’s eyes - a color reminding you of a tiger's eye crystal. And - like a tiger’s eye crystal - Jean seemed to radiate confidence and strength, and gave you an unknown balance to your own being. Jean was your second half, a part of you that you hadn’t known was missing. He was like the second half of an undone puzzle or-

“How’s your-” Reiner said, suddenly breaking the moment between you and Jean- “Your- uh, po- polpette-”

“Polpette di cavallo,” Pieck finished Reiner’s sentence for him.

Reiner nodded briskly, “That.” He smiled wide at you. “How is that?”

“It’s good,” You said as you scanned the plate in front of you, “It’s very thick, I think they used a different part of the cow than what I’m used to.” You glanced at the three faces watching you intently. “Maybe the stomach? I don’t know what part they use for hamburgers, I don’t really like thinking about it.”

Pieck giggled and pushed your shoulder lightly, “You’re kidding, right?”

You widened your eyes at the girl, “Oh, is it not the stomach?” You cleared your throat. “Then, the- the thighs?”

“No, silly,” Pieck said with a smile, “That’s not beef-” Pieck thrusted at the meat still sitting on the plate in front of you- “That’s chavelin.”

You gave Pieck a blank face, “Chave- what?”

“Chavelin.” Pieck tilted her head at you. “You know, horse meat?”

Suddenly, the chavelin was making another entrance, just this time coming back up. You smashed a hand over your mouth as the horse meat mingled with your stomach acid, begging to be back on the plate in front of you. You made quick eyes around the table; first at Pieck who was rubbing your shoulder soothingly and asking what was wrong, then to Reiner who was leaning across the table with wide eyes, and then to Jean who was already standing, gesturing you towards the bathroom.

Jean, sweet Jean, you felt strangely guilty for consuming the meat but - oddly enough - he didn’t seem to mind. At least, he didn’t look like he minded as you ran off towards the bathroom, your high heels clicking quickly against the fancy tiles of the Italian restaurant.

You swung the bathroom door open, ignoring the cringeworthy smash that erupted through the room once the door hit the wall behind it. There were other women in the bathroom, but you ignored them as you made your way to the first open stall you could find. The women watched curiously as you fell to your knees in front of the toilet, threatening to throw up the food you had so mindlessly eaten for the last hour and a half.

Nothing came out though, only a few breathless burps into the toilet bowl. You sat there for a few minutes longer than you needed to, sitting against the marble-tiled wall beside the toilet. You pressed your face against the tiles lightly, letting the coolness calm down your sweating skin.

“This is the women’s restroom,” A woman’s voice said from beside the sink.

“I’m sorry,” A familiar voice said back, “I’m just here checking up on somebody. She got sick, I’m here to-”

You lightly pushed the bathroom stall open, leaning against the edge of the door. You smiled weakly at Jean, standing with two middle-aged women who you remembered briefly from when you ran in here. He seemed to be aggressively convincing them of his honesty, swinging his arms around ferociously with his words. And upon seeing you standing in the doorway, the women finally believed him and didn’t try stopping him any further.

“Hi,” You said delicately from across the few feet separating you and Jean, “This is the women’s restroom, what are you doing in here?”

Jean bit back his smile, “I thought you might want some company.” Jean crossed the steps between you, now only a few inches away. “Nobody deserves to puke alone.”

You lightly pushed Jean’s shoulder with a giggle, “You’re ridiculous, but thank you-” You turned around and opened your arms to the inside of the empty bathroom stall- “And, welcome to my humble abode.”

“Oh,” Jean said with a smile, “I like what you did with the place.”

You grinned, “Thank you, I just got done with renovations, so I appreciate that.”

“And,” Jean quickly added as he pointed towards the lone sink in the corner, “The kitchen area looks very nice.”

You shrugged, “I tried to go for something a bit more modern and minimalistic.”

Jean breathlessly giggled by your side, “Well, you succeeded.”

Jean let you take the first seat, watching as you found your spot beside the toilet with the side of your face against the tiled wall. Jean then joined you on the floor, sitting by your side and pressing the side of his face against the tiled wall, but only so he could make eye contact with you.

The bathroom got silent a minute after Jean joined you in the stall. You supposed the other women were either staying quiet in order to eavesdrop or left to return to their dinners. Either way - you didn’t care if the women were there or not - you were going to talk to Jean freely in your secret space.

You weren’t sure why the bathroom now felt sacred to you. It wasn’t at the end of the Labyrinth for only the worthy to find. Instead, it was a bathroom in an Italian restaurant with a purely Italian menu that you should have used Google Translate for. But, it felt like you and Jean’s secret space, a place where you two could always find each other and could spend the rest of eternity together. Nothing bad happened within these stall walls, and nobody was eating horse meat for the past hour and a half within these stall walls.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Jean suddenly asked in an attempt to fill the comfortable silence in the bathroom.

You nodded lightly, “Yeah, of course I do.”

You had met Jean at a house party freshman year of college. You were invited since your roommate at the time was sleeping with the home-owner which happened to be one of Jean’s closest friends. And - ironically - you met Jean on the bathroom floor in that house at that fateful party nearly two years ago. It was strange how things went full circle.

Jean leaned his shoulder into your own, “Do you remember why we even started talking that night?”

You grinned to yourself, “Yeah, I do.”

You only started talking to Jean that night because you found him crying on the floor of the bathroom when you went to find your roommate. He was tipsy and had just seen his ex-girlfriend - who he was clearly not over - downstairs, dancing with another man. You had a bag of popcorn that your roommate begged you to make for her, but you instead offered it to Jean and joined him on the bathroom floor.

Jean tilted his head towards you, “Do you remember what you said to me?”

You looked into Jean’s eyes through your thick eyelashes, “Yes, I remember.”

While sitting on the bathroom floor together, Jean ranted to you about his ex-girlfriend and even the new guy she was dancing with. You heard about why they broke up, who she moved onto, and why he couldn’t bring himself to move on. You then leaned into his side on that bathroom floor, whispering one phrase you had been telling yourself for years.

Jean smiled to himself, “When you go looking for gold, you end up finding fool’s gold - so don’t go looking at all.”

“Let the gold come to you.” You whispered back to Jean, finishing your own quote from two years ago. You hadn’t known the words were so monumentous, you thought nothing of the quote and yet it stayed with him all of these years.

“I followed your advice,” Jean said matter-of-factly, “I followed your advice so well - actually - that I even started to push the gold away when it was just within reach.” Jean looked down at his fingers fiddling with the fabric of his slacks. “I set her up on a hundred horrible dates hoping I could forget about her for only a moment. But, I couldn’t forget about her, even if somebody wiped my memory.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot as you smiled at Jean, “That doesn’t even make sense.” Jean looked at like a wounded deer, wide scared eyes taking up all of your sight. “You can’t remember me if your memory was wiped - that’s not possible.”

“I’d manage,” Jean said with newly red cheeks, “I couldn’t forget you, even if the government tried to make me.”

You pushed Jean’s shoulder playfully, “Nuh-uh - you’re a liar, Kirstein.”

Jean shook his head, “Nope, I’ll always remember you.” He leaned his head in towards you. “I’ll remember your laugh and that little wrinkle you get between your eyebrows when I do something stupid.”

“Oh,” You said with a playful furrow of your brow, “‘You mean the wrinkle I get when you do anything?”

Jean grinned lightly, “Yeah, that one.” He continued leaning in closer until he was only a whisper away. “And how you taste like tropical fruits - like lemons and coconut.”

“And,” You whispered to his mouth, “How do you know what I taste like?”

Jean smiled, “I just intend on finding out.” His lips were pressed lightly against your own, his hand on the side of your head. “So, can I find out?”

You nodded, “Please do.”

Jean gently pressed his lips to yours, and the feeling made your stomach flip with excitement. You moved your legs closer to his, bare thighs on clothed thighs and the hem of your dress shifting up to your hips. You didn’t mind the new coldness spreading over your legs because your insides felt unbearably hot when kissing him.

The softness of Jean’s lips weren’t anything new to you. You had kissed Jean before, a soft smooch during a drunk game of spin the bottle - but never like this. His lips tasted like blueberry vodka last time you tasted them, but now his lips tasted like rosé and mint - a byproduct of the wine he had been drinking all night and the mint he sucked on before you ran off towards the bathroom - It wasn’t the best taste, but you weren’t complaining.

“I’m glad you waited for me,” You whispered into Jean’s mouth.

It became extremely clear to you at some point of the night just how much Jean means to you. Maybe because of one of the many times when you caught Jean’s eyes looking into your own. Or, one of the many times you noticed Jean talking to you when telling a story, as if you were the only one there with him. Or, one of the many times when you watched Jean fiddle mindlessly with the top of his wine glass, his eyes never leaving your frame - mentally undressing you in front of everybody in the restaurant and both of your dates.

He couldn’t help it though, he’s always loved how you looked in that black satin dress. It seemed everybody liked the dress, considering both Reiner and Pieck couldn’t keep their eyes off of your frame as well. Reiner and Pieck, who were still waiting at that table, hoping for some word from their dates who now found themselves sucking face in the women’s restroom.

“Jean,” You whispered, “We should head back.”

Jean sighed, “Okay.”

So, you did. You left the bathroom with Jean and eventually the restaurant, planning on going to where you normally did after dates - Jean’s apartment. It wasn’t easy saying goodbye to such a nice guy like Reiner knowing there wouldn’t be a second date, and it wasn’t easy saying no to Pieck’s offer of a second date with just her, and it especially wasn’t easy staring into that half-finished plate of polpette di cavallo until you and Jean finally made your exit.

The car ride was mostly quiet, both of you ignoring the obvious elephant in the room - what the hell happened in the bathroom. You didn’t regret the conversation on the bathroom floor or even the kiss that came afterwards, but you did regret ever cutting the kiss short. You searched your mind for some way back to that moment, thinking of a plan of either building and operating a time machine or trying again with Jean.

“So,” You said, “Pieck seems nice.”

Jean grinned to himself, “So does Reiner.”

You nodded slowly and turned to look out of the window, “‘Think there will be a second date with her?”

“If you’re having a second date with Reiner.” Jean spared a glance from the road in order to look at you. “‘Think there will be a second date with him?”

“Eh, he’s not really my type.”

Jean stopped the car at a red light. The color red seeped through the windshield, turning the inside of the car a bright crimson. Jean’s features were lit up by the light as his gaze danced across every inch of your face.

“He’s not?” Jean asked, “Then, what’s your type?”

You furrowed your brow, “Are you stupid?”

Jean smiled wide, “What are you saying?”

You shook your head and leaned forward, caressing Jean’s cheeks gently. You pressed your lips to his, smiling against his mouth. Jean kissed you back, quickly turning a sensual peck into a feverish makeout.

You felt Jean’s hands as they moved up the soft fabric of your dress. His fingers moved across your side and then wrapped around your body, landing on your back. He used the new position to pull you closer, much to your surprise considering the gasp that escaped from between your lips to the movement.

You wrapped your arms around Jean’s neck, pulling his face in closer. You pushed your tongue towards his mouth, and he gladly let it enter between his lips. You felt his breath hitch in his throat when you curled your tongue and swiped it across the roof of his mouth. Jean responded to the kiss with a tight grip on your dress only bringing you in-

A car suddenly honked it’s horn from behind you. Jean and you pulled apart as quickly as possible, ignoring that anything had happened. You slowly wiped your thumb across your bottom lip, smearing the wetness from the kiss onto your fingertip.

The rest of the ride was brutal, your desire for Jean was only getting unbearable. He didn’t even have to do anything. His fingers curving around the steering wheel made your heart pound. His slight head bob to the music quietly playing from the radio made your stomach inflate with nerves. And, his perfect posture in the driver’s seat made you want to groan with how badly you wanted him.

It was ridiculous, you were turning into a prepubescent boy - finding anything and everything Jean did as the epitome of attraction.

The car couldn’t have pulled into the apartment building’s parking lot any sooner. You were practically melting in Jean’s passenger seat and you needed to feel him again, you didn’t care why. You opened the car door and eventually walked alongside Jean towards his apartment complex.

You silently walked into the apartment building with Jean, and even rode up the elevator just as quiet. You waited beside him as he unlocked his apartment door. You watched as the muscles in his back moved under his shirt as he attempted to hold the door and unlock it at the same time - a trick the lock needed since the apartment was so old.

Once inside, you quickly kicked your shoes off, leaving them to lay with his shoes. You dropped your purse with the shoes as well, leaving it on the floor beside the door. And once you had discarded your unneeded items, you stood there - waiting for a sign from him, any sign at all.

Jean crossed his arms against his chest, his eyes landing on anything in the room but you. He peered across the kitchen and living room, even eyeing his bedroom door for a few seconds. Jean sighed before mumbling into the awkwardly silent room.

“So,” Jean said, “What do you want to do?”

You pressed your lips together, “I liked what we were doing in the car.” Jean suddenly looked at you, his eyes widened. “And, in the bathroom at the restaurant.”

Jean grinned to himself, “‘You wanna do that again?”

“Yes.” You nodded. “I do.”

Jean crossed the space between you, swooping his arms around you and pressing your chest into his. You bent your head upwards, giving Jean more room as his mouth pressed kisses into your neck and cheek. You giggled with your words as you attempted to speak.

“Jean,” You said as you pushed your fingers through his soft hair. You moved Jean’s face back enough to make eye contact with him. “‘Race you to the bedroom?”

Jean never thought he could let go of you in general, never mind quicker than he’s ever done anything before in his life. As soon as you were out his arms, Jean was running towards his bedroom door. You tried to beat him though, grabbing his arm and pulling him backwards, but nothing stopped him - he beat you into the bedroom.

You left the door open in front of you, standing back as Jean threw his discarded clothes from the bedroom floor and into his laundry basket - a half assed attempt at cleaning up. You supposed the gesture was nice, considering he wanted to clean up for you. But, it was even nicer knowing Jean had never seen his date with Pieck ending here.  

Your eyes peered across the entirety of his bedroom, something so familiar now with a different connotation. You’ve touched Jean plenty of times in this very room, but not the way you’re about to. You knew that after tonight, everything would be different between you two - but a good type of different that filled you with hope.

Your eyes landed on the alarm clock on his bedside table, the red numbers flickering suddenly from 11:59 to 12:00.

Second Sunday

Jean’s body weight was crushing on top of you, but a type of crushing weight that was comfortable. You swore you could live under Jean’s body for the rest of eternity. He was warm and strong and his kissing only made the position all that much better.

Your dress was on the floor and you were mostly naked, lying on Jean’s bed with only a bra and panties on. He pressed his bare chest into your chest, the only clothes on his body being his pair of slacks and the brown belt holding them up.

“Jean,” You breathed into his mouth, “I want you.”

Jean groaned against your lips, the sound coming from deep within his throat. He had never thought he’d hear those words from your lips, he never thought he’d be good enough to. But alas, here you were; underneath him, mostly naked, whispering gut wrenching phrases into his mouth.

You moved your hands down his lean body, dainty fingers finding the waistline of his pants. You undid the belt around his waist and threw it to the floor once it was out of the belt loops. You then brought your hands to his zipper, undoing that as well.

You pushed Jean’s slacks down his legs, moving them out of the way in order to free enough space for what you really wanted from him at the moment. You curled your hands around his body, digging your nails into his back in an attempt to bring him closer. You pressed your fingers into the small of his back as you bucked your hips upwards towards him.

You felt as Jean’s hardness pressed down between your legs, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped from between your lips. Jean moved his lips from yours, allowing more panting breaths to escape from your mouth as he continued to press down into you. He instead kissed down your neck, taking in each moan and ingraining them into his memory.

You moved your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, and pushed them down over his hips. He was just as big as you had always assumed. You weren’t perverted or dirty minded per say, but some nights you’d catch yourself with an excessive amount of questions; you’d wonder about his size, if he were good in bed, and if he had ever satisfied a woman before.

Sure enough, your questions would be answered after tonight.

You brought your hips to his, feeling him through only one layer of clothing now. You brought your hips off of the bed, pushing your panties down over your thighs. You awkwardly moved your legs around Jean’s, attempting to kick the fabric to the floor.

Jean brought his mouth to your ear before breathily whispering, “Do you still want me?”

You nodded frantically, “Yes, yes- yes, please.”

Jean grinned at your response, finally bringing his hips to yours. It was a moment you had waited for for much longer than you thought. This moment was in the distance for two whole years, and now it was finally here. You had wanted this for so long, to the point where you’d take anything Jean would give you - such as a drunken peck and a date with nearly every man on campus.

Next Chapter

#jean kirstein #jean aot #aot #modern au #college au #jean x reader #aot x reader #jean boy #jean kirstein x reader #double date #x reader #slight smut #f/m

[falcqns]

partner in crime lll

pairing: dad!august walker x daughter!ofc

summary: Maeve joins August at work, and he find out a little more about his daughter, which in turn reveals her mothers fate.

warnings: Angst!!! graphic depictions of death, violence towards and infant mentioned but no detail, mentions of sexual assault. 18+ ONLY.

a/n: if I missed anything in the warnings, PLEASE LET ME KNOW! I hope you enjoy!

August was awoken a few hours later by his daughter screaming like someone was hurting her.

August shot up, and immediately sprung into action, looking around the room for the source of his daughter's distress, but found nothing. The only thing he saw was the little baby in her crib, wailing. Her chubby little hand was reaching out towards August, and she was screaming ‘mama.’

August took a deep breath, and scooped her up. He held her against his chest, and rocked her back and forth like he had seen Sloane do once with a little boy they had found at a crime scene.

“What happened?” He asked in the softest voice he could muster, but she only cried harder. Her hands became fists in his sleep shirt, and her tears soaked the cotton material as well. He rubbed her back, and offered her her pacifier. She took it, and her cries quieted, but didn’t cease. He tried to lay her back down, but decided against it, when she screamed again.

He sighed, and laid down with her in the bed. She settled on his chest, and he found himself enamoured by the pools of blue that were her eyes. He was able to see little specks of brown floating near her pupil. She lifted a hand, and placed it on his mouth, her middle two fingers burying themselves into his mustache hairs. August was unsure what to do, so he tried something. He kissed her hand.

Maeve smiled so big that her pacifier fell from her lips, and then she lifted her head.

“Mama?” She asked tentatively, and August paled. How do you tell a 7 month old that they can't have their Mama because she’s dead? August opened and closed his mouth like a fish, unsure what to say.

He saw her bottom lip wobble, and tears well up in her eyes. August noticed a flash of recognition behind her eyes, and she began to wail again, screaming as if she had a gun pointed to her.

Actually, as he thought about it, he realized that's the exact reaction that little boy had, the one that Sloane had held, when he had a gun pointed to his head by his parents' attacker. His heart dropped into his stomach, and made a mental note to check how exactly Maeve’s mother had died.

He pulled Maeve close to his body, and ran his hand up and down her back, occasionally traveling up to play with her soft curls.

Not long after, she settled down, and fell back asleep. August however didn’t.

Sure, it could have been a coincidence that she had the same reaction, but August didn't think it was. He grabbed his phone from where it laid atop the charger, and googled ‘PTSD symptoms in babies’.

Hypervigilance, separation anxiety, clinginess, emotional trauma when reminded of original trauma, fear or avoidance of places that remind them of event, troubles sleeping, nightmares and repetitive play were a few of the symptoms. Maeve didn’t have all of them, but he could only assume she had a nightmare, and the flash of recognition must be her remembering what happened. Was her mother killed in front of her?

The thought made August sick to his stomach, and decided to put his phone away, in favour of keeping the sleeping baby in his arms, 1) asleep, and 2), safe.

August's eyes opened, and instead of dead silence, he was greeted by his daughter babbling, and his phone ringing.

He glanced at his daughter, who was playing with one of his hands, and used his free hand to grab his phone. He saw it was Sloane calling, and swore mentally when he saw that it was 9 am, meaning he was over two hours late for work.

He answered the phone, and Sloane immediately asked where he was, and why he was late.

“I apologize. I got Maeve yesterday and she had a rough night. I overslept, but i’ll be there in less than an hour.” He assured her, and hung up.

He watched as Maeve weaved her fingers with his, and held his hand. He smiled slightly, and curled his fingers in the same way, grasping her tiny hand in his. She squealed in happiness, and August could have cried at the sweet sound.

He pushed the thought away, and pressed a kiss to her curly head before removing his hand from her grasp, and stood up.

“I have to go to work, and you’ll have to come with me. We’ll stop at the store on the way there, and get you a new outfit for you to wear. You need some new clothes.” August said, as he grabbed a diaper from the box that he had delivered yesterday. He changed her diaper, and pulled her pyjama pants back up before scooping her and her stuffy up, and placing her in the crib.

Or, tried to at least. The second he tried to set her in there, she screamed again, like she had last night.

He knew, in that moment, that whatever caused her mother to die, happened right in front of her.

He felt anger boiling up in his body, but not at Maeve. Never at Maeve. He felt a surge of love and protection over her, and he knew his first task of being her dad was to find out what happened to her mom and figure out how to help his little girl.

August had made it out of the apartment, to Walmart, and to his office, all under an hour. He had no idea how, but he had managed it. He swore he saw a smile on Sloane’s face when he walked past her office with Maeve on his hip, but couldn't be sure.

He entered his office, and had no idea where to put her. He had weapons hid all over, and didn't want her getting hurt. He couldn't put her in a crib or a playpen, she obviously had a trauma response to that. His only options were his lap, where he knew she wouldn't stay put, and underneath the desk, which seemed like the best option until he could figure something out.

He placed her under his desk, and handed her the toys he brought with him. She gurgled as she was handed her stuffy. August smiled, and got to work.

He pulled Maeve’s file out of his briefcase, and consulted it for her mothers name.

Adriana Amiens.

He barely remembered her. He glanced down at Maeve, and felt regret course through his veins as he realized if he hadn’t been so down on himself and selfish after the mission, he could have experienced everything, and could have stopped what happened to Adriana.

He went onto the CIA database, and typed in her name. Only one result came up, and he clicked on it.

August could have vomited at what appeared.

There were several pictures of the crime scene, and the actual crime. Adriana had been tied up, and the initials MA had been carved into her stomach, just above a small scar where her uterus was located. His eyebrows furrowed, and glanced at her file. His eyes found the word cesarean section, and all his questions were answered about that.

He moved the mouse over the picture, and a link popped up, attached to the scar. A link attached to the picture wasn't unusual, the database automatically linked relevant information to the pictures, so he clicked on it.

A wiki page popped up. There wasn't a lot of information, but he did note the last name. Amiens, first name Charles.

August read further. This man, named Charles Amiens, nicknamed Master, was apparently Adriana’s father. He belonged to a gang aptly named ‘The Amiens Family’. August had heard of them before. They specialized in arms dealing and murder for hire. Charles himself seemed to be responsible for over 1500 deaths in the Los Angeles area over the last 50 years, something that scared August.

August scrolled further, and found that Adriana was listed as his daughter, although there was the word ‘emancipated’ in parenthesis. August took note of the reason for emancipation being listed as ‘family differences’. August guessed that meant that Adriana wanted no part in the family business. Anais had mentioned in the original phone call that she and her family were very different, and to be wary of him, but he had no idea why, until he received the file later that day.

August clicked through the rest of the photos, his stomach churning as he looked at what the murderers had done to the poor girls body. She had bruises all over her body. She had two black eyes, a broken nose, and there was evidence of sexual assault and severe trauma to her privates.

However, the last photo is what made August throw up.

The murderers had placed Maeve, who didn't look any younger than she did now, in a crib. More specifically, they restrained her to it. There were chains attached to her wrists, bringing them straight out from her body, and attached to the crib.

The next few photos were screenshots from the security footage, and he had to shut off his computer immediately.

They had indeed pointed a gun in his daughters face.

He wanted to throw up, but also murder someone just for hurting his child like that. He felt a tear slip down his cheek, and immediately reached down for the little girl under the desk. He lifted her onto his desk, and took a good look at her arms.

He noticed that she had faint scars around her wrists, that he knew was from restraints. He stood up and took her to the bathroom. He stripped her from her outfit, except her diaper. He checked her entire body, and was thankful when he saw no other evidence of any harm on his daughters smooth skin.

He hugged her to his chest, and pressed a kiss into her hair. “I’m never going to let anyone hurt you. I promise.” She yawned in response, and August knew she was getting tired. He carried her back to his office, and by the time he had settled in his chair, she was asleep on his chest. He held her there, protecting her. He knew she wouldn’t sleep well unless she was in his arms, safe.

By the time August made it home that night, Maeve was miserable. She was exhausted, hungry, and in desperate need of a bath. He had no idea what to do with the crib situation, as it was very clear she wouldn't be able to sleep in there, and August wasn't going to force her.

He’d done some research on his lunch break, and found an alternative to the bed situation, but it wouldn’t arrive for another few days, so it looked like he’d be bed sharing until then. He wanted to get the crib out of his room, but that would entail either waiting until Maeve was asleep, or risk her seeing it and being thrown into a PTSD induced meltdown. She hadn't been diagnosed, but he recognized the symptoms. Not all missions went to plan.

Besides, he planned on getting her into a child psychiatrist as soon as possible to get her diagnosed and help her heal. He didn't want her childhood affected by this, and it was highly unlikely he’d ever tell her what truly happened to her mother.

He placed the diaper bag, his briefcase, and their dinner down on the counter before rocking her back and forth in his arms to soothe her to sleep. It didn't help that she kept crying out for her mama, the one thing August couldn't provide.

“I promise you, my sweet angel, that i will find out what happened to your mama and make sure that you never have to feel the pain you're feeling right now EVER again.” August said, tears flowing freely as his daughter wailed for her dead mother. Her dead mother that was killed in front of her.

A few minutes later, Maeve’s cries melted into whimpers, which bled into soft breaths escaping her lips. August smiled at her, and laid her down on the bed as he had done yesterday, before taking the crib out of the bedroom. He decided to hide it in the laundry room until he could sell it, because she wasn’t allowed in there.

He had managed to wheel it out into the kitchen area, and he took pictures of it. He posted them on facebook, with a price tag of $50. It was originally $270, but he wanted it gone as soon as possible. Maeve had been through enough already.

He’d gotten an offer from a lady less than an hour later, offering $100 for it, so he took that opportunity. An hour after that, the crib was gone, he was $100 richer, and Maeve was still sound asleep.

Next, he put an offer in for an apartment, and got it. He was just signing the contract as he heard Maeve waking up. He quickly finished signing his name and sending it in before going to find his baby girl.

She smiled and clapped as August walked into the room, and he gave her a smile back. “Good nap?” he asked, and she nodded and giggled. August gave her some Cheerios after she was placed in the highchair.

He warmed up the food, before giving her her plate, which she ate enthusiastically. He ate his food, and listened to Maeve babble and point to the front door. He looked out the door and saw another father walking with his son. “You wanna go for a walk?” He asked, and Maeve nodded.

August chuckled, and cleaned up. He wiped her down, and minutes later she was in the stroller and they were on their way out the door.

They made a few laps around the block, Maeve laughing and pointing at everything she saw, almost as if she was rarely outside. He made a mental note to check her file once more. Maybe there was something more to that.

They made one more lap around the block, and headed back to the apartment. He made a short pitstop at the leasing office to give his move out notice, and Maeve was asleep again by the time he made it back up to his unit.

Over the next week, August and Maeve prepared to move. August finally got Maeve on a relatively good schedule, and had the majority of her triggers figured out. Cribs, playpens, handcuffs (an unfortunate incident happened when she had gotten into his bedside drawer and found some fluffy handcuffs for some rather adult activites, and screamed bloody murder while August was prepping her bath. He also had to learn to hide his gun when he was in the office, and remind his coworkers to keep them out of sight when she was around because the sight of those also sent her into a melt down, further angering August, and making him more determined to find the people who did this to her.

Today was moving day, and August was nervous. He didn’t know how well Maeve would take the transition, but he reminded himself that she had been having a lot of abrupt transitions over the past few weeks, so whatever happened, he would deal with.

August woke her up, and carried her into the almost empty kitchen, where he sat her down into the highchair, and gave her her morning bottle and some oatmeal. August ate a protein bar, and looked around at his old apartment to see what still had to be taken to the moving truck that was still downstairs, and found it was only his mattress, and her highchair. sohosebHe had taken all of the furniture yesterday, including his bed frame.

Maeve finished up a few minutes later, and he strapped her into the baby carrier he got when he began to pack, as it was the only way he’d get any work done.

Once she was strapped in and her stuffy was secure in her hand, August rolled the highchair out of the apartment. Once it was secure in the moving truck, he went back to the apartment for the mattress. Maeve was having a fun time of smacking her hands on it while August looked around the apartment for the last time. He’d never thought he’d leave this place, but when he met Maeve, he knew his life was changing for the better.

He never thought that he’d make a good father, but here he was. He had a wonderful little girl, and even though he was raising her on his own, he knew he could do it. As long as she grew up better than he did, he knew he was doing something right.

“Take a look around, Maeve. This was yours and Dada’s first home together.” He said, a smile forming on his face as he called himself Dada for the first time.

taglist:

@kpopgirlbtssvt @nerdypinupcrystal @sohoseb @bieberhoodforever

#august walker #henry cavill x you #august walker x you #august walker x ofc #august walker x reader #august walker x y/n #august walker x female reader #august walker fluff #august walker angst #daddy!august walker

[notabloodmage]

Anders Clinic: early Act 1

hello! i am handers trash! here is the first time my hawke helped Anders around the clinic! thank u!

The clinic was crowded today. There was another fever burning its way through Darktown. Anders was stretched thin as it is, with very few volunteers in recent days to help him keep the clinic running and safely hidden. As it turned out-- operating for free meant that help was hard to find. His mana was low, even with the extra reserves that Justice granted him. The clinic was overrun with patients-- his little corner of Darktown a filled with a cacophony of retching and the groans of the ill. He shuffled tiredly, but with purpose, from patient to patient. He was grateful that Justice wouldn’t let him rest until the job was done. It wasn’t good for Anders, sure, but it helped save the lives of all these people, so it had to be worth it, right? 

“Uh, Anders?” A familiar voice broke through the crowd. Hawke was… unexpected. The little rogue had weaved her way through the crowd somehow to make it to his side. He didn’t even look up from his work to greet here, focusing on blue fade-energy pulsing at his fingertips. 

“Sorry, Hawke, but I really don’t think I can be of any help to you today,” Anders said balefully. He was knelt over an old woman, a Ferelden refugee not unlike the rogue before him.

“Er, actually, I was wondering if I could help you…” 

That made him look up, and the sight was so beautiful it made his head spin (or perhaps it was the fact that he was going on 50+ hours without sleep). 

Hawke was looking down with her signature crooked grin, brow cocked with concern at his appearance. She wasn’t wearing her armour like usual, he’d never seen her without it before, all that tan freckled skin in the open. She was wearing a casual peasant shirt with a hastily lased collar and simple trousers torn at the knees. He snapped his eyes onto her warm brown gaze to keep them from wandering. Her eyes always had a twinkle in them, somehow, like she knew something you didn’t. 

She just had a way with people, Anders supposed, even the woman he was treating seemed to relax at her mere presence. 

And more than that, he realised, she may as well have been handing him a pot of gold. She was holding out a basket of fresh picked herbs. Elfroot, Embrium, Blood Lotus-- everything he could possibly need to treat this flu. She beamed when he looked up at her incredulously. 

“Bethany is here too, somewhere-- healing isn’t her speciality but Father did teach her the basics. And I may not be a mage, but I do know my way around a cauldron.” She winked down at him, turning toward the back of the shop. “You do have a cauldron, right? Or at least a pot I can cook with?” 

“I… What?” Anders gaped--half-convinced the exhaustion had finally gotten to him and he was hallucinating. Hawke giggled.

“A cauldron, Anders, so I can make some healing potions for these people. Father used to make this awful potion for us whenever we were sick, it tastes like the void itself but it always works! I’m not as good as he was but I do know the recipe!” She looked back at him quizzically.

“There’s a cauldron on the fire near the back, miss.” One of his other patients, a young boy who had been in the clinic before spoke up for him. 

Anders still couldn’t believe this was happening. This couldn’t be some kind of stress-induced hallucination, could it? Hawke wasn’t really just sweeping in to solve his problems again was she? First with Karl and now this...

“That’s… I…”

Before Anders could fully process the situation he was whisked back into his work. 

The sunset bled the day into night, the work still hard but going significantly more smoothly now. He’d bumped shoulders with Bethany a few times throughout the day, who’d always given him an encouraging smile before returning to her work, she may not have been as adept as he was at healing but she did better than fine. Her proficiency with the elements kept the fire burning and kept them supplied with clean water so Anders could focus solely on his healing abilities. The atmosphere of the clinic had changed, it was no longer so frantic, and although he felt as though he was about to collapse with exhaustion, Anders was cautiously optimistic. With all the help they’d been able to give it looked like most of the refugees would actually survive this. 

Plus, Hawke wasn’t kidding. She did know her way around a cauldron. Between patients Anders caught glimpses at her slicing up herbs at an alarming speed, Anders hadn’t considered that he proficiency with daggers would translate to something as mundane as chopping up potion ingredients. She’d brought more than enough, too.  With this potion a little goes a long way, she’d assured him, and she proved herself right. Sip after agonising sip of the sludge-like fluid had patients perking up already. She’d even been able to slip in a lyrium potion or two to keep Bethany and Anders running late into the evening. 

She hummed a cheery little tune to herself as she stirred away, serving patients with a smile and a joke. She made it look so easy, but she had to tired by now...

The clinic finally began to slow around midnight, most of the patients had cleared out and those that remained were asleep. Hawke had sent Bethany home before sundown-- Leandra got nervous when Bethany was out late, apparently-- so it was just the two of them that remained, in the back of the clinic. Anders was warming himself by the fireplace, hands gripping his mug tightly to keep them from trembling with exhaustion, as he sipped the tea Hawke had pushed into his hands. It smelled like like home somehow-- Ferelden. 

Mint, fennel and elfroot, sweetened with honey.

Hawke bit back a yawn, she was sat on a stool, scrubbing out his old cauldron-- he’d gotten it second-hand after he’d set up shop down here.

Her curly brown hair was tied back with a white rag, and at some point she had lost her overshirt, leaving her in tight camisole. Anders tried desperately to ignore how it gave him the perfect view of the way her chest heaved as she worked. Her toned, tanned arms were in full view, every inch of her skin patterned intricately with freckles. Sweat dripped down her neck into the valley between her breasts and Anders cleared his throat in an attempt to clear his thoughts.

“Thank you for today, really. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.” He fixed his gaze on hers once more. She was smiling at him with something that looked like admiration her amber eyes, and he didn’t know if that terrified him or turned him on. 

Maybe both.

“I can’t believe you do this every day… I don’t even think I can stand back up…” Hawke leaned back, setting the cauldron aside so she could stretch, letting out a sweet sound of satisfaction at the relief on her sore muscles.

Anders nearly cursed aloud when Justice forced him to avert his gaze.

“It’s not always this bad…” He stammered out, as Hawke stood focusing his eyes on the hearth, where the fire had burned down to coals. She was looking at him again. He could see it from the corner of his eye, she was studying him intently, it seemed. 

The silence hung over them--warm, wanting, and not quite comfortable. 

Anders wanted to thank her again, but he couldn’t find the words. He still couldn’t believe she’d come at all. Completely unprompted, unasked. He’d asked her a few hours in what she was doing there and all she’d said was that Varric told her was busy at the clinic and she wanted to help. She didn’t say how she got the herbs or found the time, in her busy schedule though, and Anders thought that maybe he should ask if he could pay for those... not that he could afford them, he thought bitterly. 

The silence was broken by Hawke bursting into a fit of giggles. 

He looked at her, brow creasing. She was… Odd. Always smiling, always laughing at something or other. She’d tripped over her feet on the way up the Chantry steps that first night they’d met and he could’ve sworn her laugh echoed through all of Hightown, far too loud for someone as small in stature as she. In that moment she’d put him at ease, and even though his meeting with Karl went as terribly as it did she stuck by his side, even inviting him out on jobs with her in the days after, knowing full well that he could use the money, and time out of Darktown. 

Her eyes glimmered with mirth as she turned to him.

“I just realised I never told you my name.”

Huh. 

So she hadn’t. 

It was strange, given how much they’d been through together in the, what, few weeks? Since they’d met? Anders found himself laughing alongside her. 

Maybe they were delirious-- maybe the fever had finally caught up to them-- but Maker did the two of them laugh.  A gross, hard day full of grief and sickness that had left them both worn and covered in vomit and the pair laughed themselves to tears. 

Justice was confused. Anders was laughing. Why was Anders laughing? 

Anders didn’t quite know the answer himself, but he figured it didn’t matter as Hawke extended a hand to him. 

“I’m Minerva Marian Hawke, and you are?”

He took her hand in his. His handshake was a little too firm in an attempt to disguise how his hands were trembling. 

“Anders. Just Anders.”

“Just Anders, hm? Coooool~” She grinned, voice regaining its familiar teasing quality. He couldn’t help but return her grin. “Well, Just Anders, I’ll come by tomorrow, okay? I think it’s time to get some rest. Both of us, okay?” Her eyes flickered over him, an expression of genuine concern on her face. Anders didn’t know what he’d done to earn such kindness from her, but he couldn’t deny the way it made his heart pound in his chest.

She smiled her farewell and turned to leave.

“Goodnight, Minerva.” Her name tasted sweet on his lips. “And thank you.”

#we r VIBING #my chronic pain is acting up like mad so i can't work but at least i can write fics and play dragon age ajshfdvbjkadsvfhasdfs #my writing #ok to rb #handers #f!handers #female hawke #dragon age #dragon age 2 #da2 #da #anders #anders dragon age #anders x hawke #act 1 #bethany hawke #varric tethras #it's abt the mutual pining babey!!! #slow BURN!!!!

[pixiedoodlein]

10 days until school and I’m no more decided than I was a week ago. I flip flop ten times day about what might be best. A is sick of hearing me talk about it. He doesn’t disagree with my risk assessment but he is sick of talking about it.

It caused an issue with his friend, a friend who is his best friend and is unvaccinated and works in a jail. Months ago we told friend he could only visit (this place is their boyhood dream) once he’s vaccinated. Friend typically believes in science and is very health conscious but his gf is a moron Trump lover and her family the same and that’s who he’s been spending all his time with since this all started. When I asked friend why he’s not vaccinated he said he’s young & healthy, didn’t trust the vaccines, would do it when they got full fda approval. Plenty of young healthy people are dead of this. Anyway then I asked ok so what if you give it to someone who isn’t and dies, people incarcerated in the jail he works in and don’t have the luxury of social distancing, and he was like eh whatever. So yes friend is an asshole, but his best friend for decades, friend has always been kind of an asshole but has many redeeming qualities too. So we said no visit. But then in July when there was no covid here and no covid where he lives and we were blissfully living our covid free lives we loosened up and said he could visit with two negative tests. But then covid got bad again and when asshole friend contacted A the other day to say he took time off in late Sept to visit, A said sorry, it’s fully fda approved now you have no excuses not to vaccinate, we’re worried about our unvaccinated kids, and as of now you can’t visit but hey maybe if you get vaccinated and the numbers look better we can reassess in a month and you can come. Friend was a total dick about it, didn’t understand our point of view at all, stressed A about it, who was in a bad mood about it for days afterward.

Then there’s the neighbors. I had a chat with the kids and a chat with the mom. I framed it as we love them so much and I know they’re careful but I think we should all be more careful while the numbers are so rising (aka only outdoor hangouts) and we are careful but I’ve heard terrifying stories from doctor friends about kids and babies getting very sick, and they have a baby who I don’t want us to make sick, and she said she agreed. The kids have been pretty good about making the adjustment from constant sleepovers to playing outside but M keeps asking me “the kids need to pee are they allowed to use the bathroom, the kids are hungry are they allowed to come inside even for one minute for a snack,” and I feel like the villain (I’ve been saying yes to pee, snacks I’ll bring out). Everyone’s been understanding but nobody is getting what I mean when I say only outdoor socializing. All the kids keep asking me when I’ll take them to town again for ice cream, “but it’s outside” (um yeah but the car’s not), asking their mom to ask me for sleepovers even though they know what the answer will be. The other day they were playing in our yard then it started raining and they were like “we can’t walk home in the rain”- I don’t want them to walk home in the rain, but again the car is indoors!- so I drove them home (but made M stay at our house). They’re not my kids so I can’t make them wear masks and it feels like now I am in the position of being the mean parent who’s psycho about covid, which in a way I am, but it would help me to stick to my guns and feel okay about sticking to them if the government policies matched the severity of the situation, ie mask mandates in public places (instead of stores posting polite recommendations), vaccine mandates, virtual learning options, etc.

Which brings me to school. After selling M hard on real school, then I sold her hard on home school. She already “did” 3rd grade last year (as much as me teaching her in my pajamas counts as doing), but this district has an earlier cut off than the city, so she’s in 3rd grade again here. Which is fine by me- her birthday is the same day as the very late nyc cut off (12/31) and I hated that she was the absolute youngest. I used to beg the school to hold her back and they’d say “but why she’s doing so well!” not understanding that I was thinking ahead to the teen years. But anyway, despite her haphazard pj’d professor, she seemed to learn a lot last year so homeschool this year could basically be unschool. She’d traipse around the forest identifying birds and trees with A and her brother, reading for pleasure, and I’d spend an hour here and there reviewing some worksheets with her so she’d be on track when she starts real school after she gets vaccinated. She was into the idea, until she found out she and one of the neighbor kids are in the same class. Now she absolutely wants to go to real school, AND ride the school bus. The school bus part makes me very nervous. While there is now a school mask mandate (but will it be enforced? what are their lunch procedures, what % of teachers are vaccinated, what % of the older kids in the same building as the little kids are vaccinated, did they actually really update their ventilation system?) and a bus mask rule, it’s a long rural route (15 min drive or 45 min bus) and I have no faith that bus windows will be open and all riders will be masked the whole time.

So just tell her she can go to school but has to be driven by a parent, right? Not so simple. I was offered a job at a (somewhat, commuting distance) nearby nonprofit- an easy low stress job in a bastion of liberalism with very very nice smart coworkers, excellent work life balance, a writing job that sounds made for me, like the job description is exactly what I would put together if I were putting together my dream job (except the pay, which is half what I was making at a fancy DC nonprofit, but high for this area, and our housing cost is half so it should be fine if A can get away from little guy long enough to bring in some money too). It’s mostly remote but approx one day a week in the office and some days there will be things I need to attend out in the community (not necessarily our community, they serve the whole region). It won’t always be the same day in the office and the office is an hour away- so on those days A would have no car to get her to and from school, since I’d need to leave before school starts and get home after it’s done. So I guess we need to buy a new car? Aside from this issue we really don’t need a second car now, were planning to get one eventually, but not until A’s business has enough projects to justify the cost.

Despite its many demands/challenges/ stressors, home school is sounding easier to me at this point (especially because she already did this grade), except she WANTS to go to school. Someone talk me out of putting some lipstick and a pantsuit on her and taking her to get vaccinated. I know, I know: the 5-11 dosage is 1/3 of the 12-adult dosage. The doctors I’ve spoken to are split on this hypothetical kamikaze mission. The doctors I’ve spoken to are also split on me and A going to a pharmacy now for booster. It’s been almost 6 months since our 2nd dose. We do not have compromised immune systems. This county has way more doses than demand and I would feel better sending M to school (bus or not) if we had our boosters and she had a first dose- moral and scientific quandaries aside- because there is A LOT of covid here now, a lot of covid everywhere now, and I feel like we are returning to regular life at the time when we should be most hunkered down.

Which brings me to the data. Per capita there are as many known cases here as in nyc, except nyc has a 50% higher vax rate, much more mask usage, better medical system. People are not getting enough tests here, there is a higher positivity rate, and so I think the actual number of cases is much higher than the reported number of cases. It seems like, friends here and in the city and in the suburbs (I just broke up with a friend in the suburbs because she professes to be a good democrat but is hosting a bonafide super spreader event and vacationing in a place with 39% positivity and a collapsed health care system), are thinking of covid as something you catch from strangers- they wear masks in stores- but aren’t careful at all around close friends and family (so many extended family gatherings, so many, cousins and grandparents and half-siblings and aunts and uncles and whoever), when this is a disease that kills via the people you love most, the ones who’d never intentionally hurt you.

[ka-writes]

——————

Notes: First of all... thank you so much for the support!!

Second, space vocab: starling: young unidentified species ISF: intergalactic safety force

Anyways, take care of yourself <3!

——————

Warning: flashbacks to abuse, if needed skip past any italicized words, mentions of child labor exploitation (Someone forces Tommy to steal), attempting to drug character, cussing, kidnapping, fear.

——————

Incase you missed:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 5:

——————

Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

——————

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33147661/chapters/82290709

——————

Chapter 6: Causing Chaos

——————

Planet Amari was their next stop. It would take only four hours to get there and usually this would be no problem if they weren’t harboring a human. Let alone the human that had just escaped the Dream Team Ship.

Phil shook his head and focused on the increased security around the boarding docks.

Amair is a planet whose only purpose is to entertain, meaning they already have some of the best security in this part of the galaxy. The added security came directly from the ISF and were now searching suspicious ships.

“Check check, one two.” The microphone turned green, “As your captain it is my duty to warn you about extra security measures. The ISF is boarding ships and checking for abnormalities. Please complete protocol 35.0.” Phil spoke into the mic and waited for everyone’s confirmation.

He got up and started the process of taking maps and blueprints that were not available to the public along with future plans and hid them in a document compartment behind one of his shelves. He then changed his normal illusion monitor and changed it to the default screen.

He stepped out of the cabin and cleaned the surrounding area, while also checking for anything that could be confiscated.

“Tommy. In order to go onto the planet I need you to wear this.”Wilbur confronted.

“No! It looks like one of those serial killer masks!! My face is too beautiful to be hidden.” Tommy scoffed.

“Tommy if you don’t wear it willingly, I will tell Ranboo about-“ Wilbur was cut off by a series of curses and Tommy fiddling the mask around his face. “Good. Put this on too.” Wilbur handed the blonde a bundle of clothes and made his way to the lab. Phil chuckled at the brotherly bond that was already forming.

He made his way down to the lab checking for abnormalities before seeping back to the holding cell. The human was pulling at his clothes while packing things back into the shelf.

“Hello mate! Whatcha doing there?” Phil asked, casually. What he didn’t expect was the human to practically jump out of his clothes in the captain’s presence.

“W-who are you?” Tommy stammered, Phil had completely forgotten he had never introduced himself before.

“Oh! I forgot we haven’t formally met. My name is Captain Philza Mine Craft, but you can call me Phil or Philza, whichever you prefer. I use he/him pronouns and am the legal captain of the SBI Craft.” Phil finished his introduction with an easy confidence, even with the face mask you could easily see the kid’s wonder, “We are currently waiting for a formal check from the ISF.” The human tensed at that, “So if you would please follow me to the common room, so I may hide the holding cell.” The human nodded vigorously.

Once Phil had dropped Tommy off in the common room he made his way to the holding cell. With a few clicks and checks the holding cell made a perfect illusion wall, which molded it into the wall not to be seen by any inspectors or gadgets they may have.

Once he had gotten confirmations from all crew members, he made his way back to the pilot’s cabin. If they were even a minute slower with preparations, security would have deemed the ship suspicious.

They settled the ship at the checkpoint and waited for a security officer to signal them.

——————

Wilbur’s leg bounced anxiously as he wore his disguise. He had finished briefing Tommy about the plan. They would lie about their origins, Wilbur doing the talking, and would get what they needed and get out.

The only thing anyone was waiting on was the guard.

Almost on queue the door began to open and a young starling stood at the door. He seemed to be genetically engineered and had wires attached to his head and 3D glasses.

“Hello everyone! My name is Jack Manifold, and I will be checking your ship!” The starling chirped, “I hope you have both we have to confiscate, because everyone here seems like lovely people. I have to ask where is your captain?”

“Right here mate.” Philza said, stepping out of the pilot cabin. “I am Captain Philza Mine Craft, of the SBI Craft. Feel free to look around.” Phil said with a hint of impatience. Jack didn’t seem to notice and made his way around the Craft.

Everyone sitting in the common room shared a few nervous glances. The only one who seemed oddly comfortable was Tubbo.. Wilbur took note of the behavior and tried to busy himself with the magazine he was holding...

When did he get a magazine?

He was immersed in an article about room design when Jack returned.

“Everything seems to be in order! The only thing I ask is that everyone introduces themselves.” His tone turned serious as he looked at the crew.

“My name is Technoblade. I am the security officer on this ship and second in command.” Techno said without faltering in tone.

“I am Ranboo. I am Technoblade’s hired assistant and do most chores around the ship.” Ranboo said clearly anxious with the attention on them.

“Tubbo, I am a hired gardener and take care of food supplies and medical ingredients.” There was a coldness to Tubbo’s voice as he finished his introduction.

“Dr. Craft, I am a toxicologist. This is my medical student, Tommy, he doesn’t talk much.” There was a suspicious glint in Jack’s eye as Wilbur continued, “We have been working for this crew for two months, before that we were traveling on our own licensed craft.” Jack accepted the answer and finished checking his notepad off.

“Alright, that will be all then! Welcome to Amari! Once I give this report to my manager, you should be able to enter the atmosphere!” With that the cheery starling left the ship and Phil closed the door before disappearing into the pilots cabin.

To say Wilbur was relieved was an understatement.

——————

Things were falling into place.

Once they were on the planet all Tubbo would have to do is add the substance to one of Tommy’s drinks and he would be acting out in no time!

But is it worth it?

He pushed the thought out of his head and finished packing the small packet in his bag before getting off the ship with the rest of the crew.

“Before we head to the shopping center, why don’t we stop by Las Nevada’s? I mean it’s Tommy’s first time on Amari after all.” Tubbo said. Las Nevada’s is the most well known restaurant and casino in Amari. It was the perfect place for Tubbo to start his plan.

“I don’t see why not. Just stay in the restaurant bit, we don’t want to draw any more attention to ourselves.” Phil answered.

With that the group walked into one of the best and worst places in the city, though no one knew of the worst bit yet…

——————

They sat around a booth compartment. It had soft red padding and purple looking palm trees, without the coconuts.

It reminded Tommy of a stereotypical mafia restaurant. Something Tommy never got the privilege of seeing.

It made him very uncomfortable, especially when the waitress gave them drinks in glass cups. He felt like whatever he touched would instantly shatter into a billion pieces.

Techno was taking Ranboo to the bathroom and Phil and Will were talking to a waitress leaving only Tommy and the scary bee boy . alone.

“I told you I was done Miranda!!” A man shouted from a nearby table causing Tommy’s attention to be focused on the couple fighting.

“You had one job. And you failed it boy.” A man slapped his face.

He was in his third foster home again. They had asked him to get at least $50 from people on the subway, he had only managed to score $20, and the man was furious.

“You’re lucky I see potential, otherwise you’d be back in that goddamn group home.” Tommy’s eyes dropped yo the floor, another slap and a hand grabbing his chin to look at the man, “PAY ATTENTION TO ME BOY. I saved you from that hell hole and I can take you back.” The man sneered. Honestly Tommy would rather be there than here.

“Hey!” Wilbur snapped in front of his face, “You with us?” Tommy nodded. The couple was gone and everyone returned. Now Ranboo and Wilbur were sitting next to him and Tubbo was sitting next to Ranboo. Did bee-boy always look so guilty?

After a minute of awkward silence, Phil and Techno started talking, their voices drowned out by the surrounding noise. Wilbur had turned his attention to his menu and Ranboo was writing in his book again.

Tommy reached for his water and Tubbo turned his attention to the human. The mask he was wearing had a flap so he could easily breathe, eat, and drink. He took a sip of water….. was water supposed to be this sweet?

“Why the fuck would someone put sugar in water as a prank?” Tommy mumbled, everyone’s attention was on the human again, “What?” He asked defensively.

“Did you say sugar?” Wilbur asked as if it was the craziest thing he had ever heard.

“Umm… yea?” Tommy said. We’re these people pulling a prank on him? Why was everyone looking at him like that?

“Tommy, can you give me your water?” Wilbur asked, he was genuinely confused by the reactions. After a few seconds he gave his water to Wilbur who immediately took a sip and spit it out.

“What the fuck?!” Tommy asked as Wilbur gave him the water back.

“That is definitely sugar.. Tommy do you feel weird at all?” He asked.

“Erm no?” This was getting stranger and stranger.

“So humans are immune to sugar…” Will said as if it was a scientific breakthrough.

“Yea? Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Well for one, most species go absolutely crazy after eating sugar, for some it could lead to death.” Tubbo informed. He looked even more confused than Tommy felt.

“So like, aliens go psycho when they eat sugar? That’s lame.” Tommy laughed out the last line. Everyone looked at him with concerned glances, “I don’t think I am gonna go psycho after drinking a small bit of sugar water, I mean most people have been eating sugar their entire lives, me being one of ‘em.” Tommy finished and the underlying tension died down. Well except Tubbo’s which felt more like an angry glare meant to affect him in some way.

When the waitress came everyone gave their orders, Wilbur supplying Tommy’s. The rest of the meal was comfortable, with Phil telling stories and the rest supplying jokes and chatter, along with the occasional glare from Tubbo.

To be honest Tommy had never felt so comfortable around anyone before, he wanted so badly to let down his wall around these people. Still there was that annoying voice that told him not to trust them. For once he didn’t listen to it.

I mean what could go wrong?

——————

The plan failed. Shit.

Tubbo was mad. Not just mad, furious.

The others were having fun with the human, yet again. Tubbo had wandered off, he wanted to destroy everything, and yet he simply walked off without a second glance. He could feel the tears streaming down his face.

“Hello bee-boy!” The human scared the droneling, his ears falling flat against his head.

“I am not in the mood to talk.” Tubbo sniffed.

“Oh..” The human’s tone dropped, it was almost as if it was hurt by Tubbo’s words. “That’s alright big-man! We don’t have to talk.” The human settled with that response, with that the pair walked through the busy street in silence. Tubbo tried to throw the human off his trail but gave up after a few minutes.

After fifteen minutes of them wandering around Tubbo spotted a shop and made his way over to the electronic shop. The human followed him into the small store.

It was a small shop with tight isles and jazz music filling the silence. At the register a tall creeper hybrid fiddled with a redstone contraption. Tubbo paid no mind to him and turned his attention to some of the smaller devices scattered throughout the shop. The human shifted nervously behind him.

Once Tubbo found what he was looking for he took it over to the register. Another man stood behind it along with the original one. His eyes shifted to Tommy.

“Are you sure that’s him?” The original man asked, his name tag reading Sam.

“Yes, positive. Dream will be happy with this.” The other man replied, he stretched one of his fingerless black gloves and turned towards the pair. “Hi. I am assuming you have my boss’s patient?” The black hair man asked. He was a blazeling and had a cruel glint to his eye.

Without warning another man came up behind them and slapped a cloth over both of their faces. Within seconds the pair was out and everything went black.

He woke up in a cage.

——————

Chapter 6- End

Words: 2206

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Notes: The next bit will be hard to write ;-; but then we get to the fluffy-angst :D

Also this was harder to write... motivation went poof, but I won’t quit on you!!

<3

——————

Tubbo: *tries to cause chaos—fails

Tubbo: *wanders into a random shop—causes chaos

Tubbo: .-. Wtf

——————

Chapter 7:

#dream smp fanfiction #my fanfic tag #my writing #tommy mcyt #wilbur soot #philza #ranboo #reblog #sbi au #space au #tubbo #techno #chaos #;-; #humans are space orcs

[snarksandkisses]

What I think about COVID-19 this morning - Malia Jones, PhD, MPH

What I think about COVID-19 this morning

March 5, 2020

 Maybe I'm the closest thing you personally know to an infectious disease epidemiologist. Maybe not--I'm not an expert on this virus by any stretch, but I have general knowledge and training from studying epidemics that is applicable, so here are my thoughts. 

 First and foremost: we are going to see a tremendous increase in the number of US cases of COVID-19 in the next week. This is not because of some new pattern in the spread of the disease, but rather due to a major change in the requirements to be tested. Until yesterday, if you had flulike illness but had not recently traveled to China, Italy, South Korea, or Iran, you could not be tested. This is just the way healthcare works, you get tested if you meet the case definition and the case definition included travel.

 As of yesterday, you can be tested if you are sick and have a doctor's order to be tested. So expect things to feel a lot more panicky all of a sudden. We will see hundreds or thousands of new cases as a result of testing increases.

 Second: is that panic legitimate? Sort of. This is not the zombie apocalypse. The death rate of 30 deaths per 1000 cases is probably a wild overestimate. (The denominator is almost certainly wrong because it is confirmed cases--and we only confirm cases when we test for them). That said, even at 3 per 1000 cases, this would be a big deal. A very big deal. By way of comparison, the death rate for influenza is between 1 and 2 in 1000 cases. So, yeah. Roughly 0x to 30x worse than a huge global flu pandemic? That's a problem.

 Unlike flu, COVID-19 is not *particularly* dangerous for children, so that’s some happy news. It is dangerous for older adults and those with lung conditions, so we need to be extra careful to protect those populations from exposure. 

Also, for millions of Americans, getting any serious illness requiring a hospitalization is a major problem because they can't pay for it. And our health care system is probably going to struggle to keep up with it all. And with China basically closed, our global economy is going to take a huge hit and we'll feel the shockwaves for years. Those are real concerns.

 What can we do? Our focus should be on *slowing down the spread* of this disease so that we have time to get caught up. Here is my advice:

 1. Wash. Your. Hands. Wash them so much.

The current best guess is that coronavirus is transmitted via close contact and surface contamination. A very small study came out yesterday suggesting that the virus causing COVID-19 is *mostly* transmitted via contact with contaminated surfaces.

I have started washing my hands each time I enter a new building and after being in shared spaces (classrooms especially), in addition to the standard practice of washing after using the bathroom and before eating. Soap and water. Hand sanitizer also kills this virus, as does rubbing alcohol (the main ingredient in hand sanitizer).

 There is no need to be obsessive about this. Just wash your hands. A little bit more effort here goes a long way. 

 2. Don’t pick your nose. Or put your fingers in your mouth, on your lips, or in your eyes. Surface contact works like this: you touch something dirty. Maybe it's an elevator button. Virus sticks to your hands. Then you rub your eye. Then you touch your sandwich, and put the sandwich in your mouth. Now there is virus in your eyes and mouth. See?

 You may be thinking, but I don’t pick my nose because I am an adult! An observational study found that people sitting at a desk working touched their eyes, nose, or lips between 3 and 50 times per hour. Perfectly normal grown-ups, not lowlifes like my friends.

 2a. There was one note that came out suggesting that face masks actually promote surface contamination because you're always adjusting them--i.e., touching your face. I don’t know if that’s true. But face masks should not be worn by the public right now, unless you are the person who is sick and you're on your way to or actually at the doctor's office. The mask’s function is to prevent spit from flying out of your mouth and landing on things when you cough or sneeze. It flies out of your mouth and is caught in the mask instead. If you are the person who is sick and not on the way to the doctor, go home. Let the people who really need them have the masks. Like doctors.

 [ETA on 3/6/2020 honestly people I am getting so much push back on the mask recommendation!! The world is running low on masks. If everyone wants a mask so they can feel ok about keeping their Daytona Beach Spring Break plans and then hospitals in India can't buy them anymore, shame on us.]

 Coronavirus does not appear to be airborne in the sense that doesn't remain floating around freely in the air for a long time, like measles does. You are probably not going to breathe it in, unless someone is coughing in front of you. If someone is coughing in your face, feel free to tell them to get their ass home and move 6 feet away from them. (Yeah I know, if you have a toddler, you're screwed.)

 3. Sanitize the objects you and lots of other people touch, especially people outside your family--like door handles, shared keyboards at schools (brrr), salad bar tongs, etc. Best guesses are that the virus can live on surfaces for 2-48 hours, maybe even longer, depending on the surface, temperature, and humidity.

 Many common household cleaning products will kill this virus. However, white vinegar solution does not. You can make your own inexpensive antimicrobial spray by mixing 1 part household bleach to 99 parts cold tap water. Spray this on surfaces and leave for 10-30 minutes. Note: this is bleach. It will ruin your sofa.

 4. "Social distancing." You're going to get so sick of this phrase. This means keeping people apart from one another (preferably 6 feet apart, and sanitizing shared objects). This public health strategy is our next line of defense, and its implementation is what will lead to flights and events cancelled, borders closed, and schools closed.

 For now, you could limit face-to-face meetings, especially large ones. Zoom is an excellent videoconferencing option. If you spend time in shared spaces, see #1. Ask your child's school about their hygiene plan, if they haven't already told you what it is. If I were in charge of a school setting, I'd be hand sanitizing the s*** out of the kids' hands, including in and out of each space, and taking temperatures at the door. I am planning to email our school nurse right after this to ask if they need my volunteer help cleaning surfaces.

 If you can telecommute, do that a little more. If you are someone's boss and they could do their job remotely, encourage them to do that. 

 Avoid large gatherings of people if at all possible, especially if they are in an area with cases OR places that lots of people travel to. If you attend group events and start to feel even a little bit sick within 2 to 14 days, you need to self isolate immediately. Like for a tiny tickle in your throat.

 5. All your travel plans are about to get screwed up. If you are considering booking flights right now, get refundable tickets. ETA: most trip insurance will not cover cancellations due to a pandemic. Look for "cancel for any reason" trip insurance. 

 Considerations for risks related to that trip you’re planning: how bad would it be if you got stuck where you are going for 3 to 6 weeks? How bad would it be to be isolated at home for 2-3 weeks upon your return? Do you have direct contact with people who are over 70 and/or have lung conditions? If those seem really bad to you, rethink your trip, especially if it is to a location where there are confirmed cases. 

 6. If you are sick, stay home. Please! For the love of all that is holy. Stay at home. Your contributions to the world are really just not that important.

 7. There is a good chance some communities will see school cancelled and asked to limit non-essential movement. If someone in your family gets sick your family will almost certainly be isolated for 2-3 weeks (asked to stay at home). You could start stocking up with essentials for that scenario, but don't run out and buy a years' worth of toilet paper. Again, not the apocalypse. 2 weeks' worth of essential items. Refill any prescriptions, check your supply of coffee, kitty litter, and jigsaw puzzles.

 8. I do want to remind everyone that when public health works, the result is the least newsworthy thing ever: nothing happens. If this all fizzles out and you start feeling like ‘Wah, all that fuss for nothing??’ Then send a thank-you note to your local department of public health for a job well done. Fingers crossed for that outcome.

 9. Look, I think there are some positives here. All this handwashing could stop flu season in its tracks! We have an opportunity to reduce our global carbon footprint by telecommuting more, flying less, and understanding where our stuff comes from. We can use this to think about the problems with our healthcare system. We can use this to reflect on our positions of privilege and implicit biases. We can start greeting each other using jazz hands. I'm genuinely excited about those opportunities.

 There is a lot we don't yet know about this virus. It didn't even exist 90 days ago. So stay tuned, it is an evolving situation. The WHO website has a decent FAQ. Free to email or text with questions, and you can forward this to others if you think it's useful.

 May the force be with you. 

 Malia Jones, PhD, MPH

[email protected]

 I’m an Assistant Scientist in Health Geography at the Applied Population Laboratory at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. I study social contact of humans, and spatial patterns of infectious disease, among other things. 

   P.S. The number one question I am getting is, did you really write this? Yes. I wrote this. 

 I didn't write it for professional purposes, so I didn't put my work email on it. It was really just meant to be an email to my friends and family in advance of what I expect to be an escalation in the panic level. But it was apparently welcome information and went viral on FB. I've decided not to edit out the swears, even though I wrote this with a much smaller audience in mind. 

 Thanks for checking your facts! Go science! 

#COVID-19 #coronavirus #wash your hands #Social distancing #don't panic #but maybe just a little panic

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

AIGHT Y’ALL I wasn’t tagged but I’m doing this anyways because f u c k  i t

It's the year 2021 and you're obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling?

Deadasss weird as fuck, my dude. Like...out of all the things I could’ve predicted happening in our lord’s year 2021, it definitely was NOT getting hyperfixated on a hammy gay ship with a punk and a nerd from a goddamn karate soap opera. And yet...here we are??? I will never understand hyperfixations, my guy. But I’ve met a lot of really cool people in this fandom, so I can’t really complain.

Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series?

I have never seen a single Karate Kid movie in my entire life. When I was a kid, it looked kinda dumb so I never got into it XD But then I saw my roommate watching Cobra Kai on Youtube Red one day (he has every streaming service known to man) and I was hooked. And...here I am!

We gotta do the basics. Favorite character:  

Literally EVERYONE except for Kreese, Yasmine, Kyler, and Tory, sorry stans

Okay but if we gotta pick, Johnny Lawrence is my Problematic Fave. Also I love my boy Daniel, he’s trying his best!!! And Amanda LaRusso, we stan a queen!!!

Among the kids, definitely Miguel, with Demetri as a close second. I also love Sam, Aisha, Moon, and Hawk (pre- and post-Bastardization Arc, anyways XD)!

Favorite ship:  

Take a look at my username and take a WILD FUCKING GUESS lmao Yes it’s Eli/Demetri because DUH, every interaction they have is so fucking gay and Eli fucking saved him!!! And came back to him!!! And betrayed the world’s most terrifying dojo with a WAR CRIMINAL SENSEI all for Demetri!!! And how Demetri was willing to forgive him for everything at the drop of a hat because he always had faith there was still good in his best friend??? That’s TRUE LOVE motherfuckers. Please let them kiss in Season 4. I will sell you all of my limbs. Sam/Miguel is a close second because they’re cute as shit and it’s just so lovely to see two people so unapologetically smitten with each other. They are in LOVE, and I will RIOT if they break up again!!! Keep Sam and Miguel together 2k21!!!

Underrated character:

SAMANTHA LARUSSO!!! The amount of hate my girl gets for acting like a normal teenager and fucking up occasionally JUST like the rest of the cast makes me want to start punching things. She cares SO MUCH about her friends!!! And she loves the shit out of Miguel!!! She hasn’t always been the best friend but you know what??? Neither has Hawk, and we still forgave his ass!!! Also LET HER BE FEMININE but also kick utter ass, my god!!! Femininity should not be synonymous with being weak, y’all! ALSO DEMETRI, like yes, he likes to complain and occasionally run his mouth, but guess what else he likes to do??? Never give up on the love of his life his best friend Eli Moskowitz and refuse to lose faith in him no matter how much of a little shit he’s become, and I for one think that’s very badass of him. Also the way he takes care of Eli pre-Cobra Kai in his own snarky bastard way makes me absolutely Weak and needs more appreciation. Like the dude has charisma and COULD have probably made other friends and left Eli behind if he wanted, but did he??? No, he wants the weepy loser with the lip scar in the polo shirts and dorky sweaters and will protect him as much as his wimpy ass is able!!!

Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol):  

Among the adults, Daniel/Amanda!!! Like maybe I just don’t watch that much tv, but it seems kinda rare to me to see a happily married hetero couple, and it’s just nice to see a married couple who genuinely love each other and where there’s not like...lingering resentment or some shit. I feel like this ship gets overshadowed by Lawrusso a lot (which like--okay, fair!!! Daniel and Johnny do have a ridiculous amount of chemistry, and the gay undertones are undeniable, so I get it), and it makes me kinda sad. I do love Lawrusso, but I don’t like when Amanda has to get her heart broke for it to happen, you feel? Among the kids, honestly YasMoon. Like I really love the idea of Yasmine trying to better herself because of Moon’s influence on her and because Moon like...inspires her to be a better person, I guess? With their pretty strong friendship, it just makes more sense to me for Yasmine to get a redemption arc through Moon than through Demetri. ALSO girls DO often pull the whole “mean girl” shtick to cover up being closeted lesbians, and Moon IS canonically bi, so it could work!!! I just think this one could be a really interesting Friends to Lovers take, and could make a really nice coming-out arc for Yas. And MoonPiper too, honestly!!! Like they only got 5 seconds of screentime so I understand WHY it’s underrated, but I still love what we DID get and loved that there was a canon gay ship (even if only for 1 scene lmao). I’m really excited to potentially see more of them in Season 4!!! Please, I’m begging!!!

Wax On, Wax Off or Sweep the Leg?

Sweep the Leg because it will always be deeply hilarious to me how Demetri took note of the first move Eli ever used on him and spent presumably weeks perfecting it OUT OF SPITE just to get him back with it at the soccer game MONTHS later. Just goes to show how OBSESSED Demetri is with Eli and their little karate rivalry which is just NOT straight, I’m sorry

Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favorite?

There’s something so funny about this pretentious little fuck walking around in fancy suits once he becomes a #SuccessfulBusinessman, and still occasionally trying to do karate in a full-ass suit (take THAT, Tom Cole’s boba!!!) I’m also a big fan of how he looks in his gi with his little headband. Still killing that look as a 40-50-something!!!

Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver:

Tbh I have still never seen a single Karate Kid movie (they took them off of Netflix, RIP), so...I don’t really care if they bring anyone else back??? I’m invested in the characters we already have in the show, I don’t need some rando from the movies to make a cameo to have a good time XD The only character I really wanted them to bring back was Ali, and they already did, so like...I’m good??? That’s all I really needed, I can die in peace now XD

Scene that lives in your head rent-free:

Basically any fluffy Elimetri scene, but 5 in particular: ~Miguel first meeting Eli and Demetri at the lunch table, and Eli looking at Demetri like he hung every goddamn star in the sky ~Demetri going off at a terrifying, “unhinged” karate sensei on the first day of Cobra Kai because he made fun of Eli’s lip and Demetri is not about that shit ~ELI STEALING DEMETRI’S NACHO AND SMIRKING AT HIM, LIKE EXCUSE ME SIR PLEASE BE A LITTLE LESS HOMOSEXUAL IN FRONT OF YOUR GIRLFRIEND ~Eli yanking Demetri onstage during Valley Fest to hold a board, and Demetri being visibly like...extremely turned on when Eli breaks said board ~ELI SAVING DEMETRI DURING THE CHRISTMAS FIGHT, ELI APOLOGIZING, DEMETRI AND ELI KICKING COBRA ASS TOGETHER AKSBDCUWYVCBU

Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?

I hope not! He’s kind of a funny meme character to pop up now and again but I don’t think he deserves a serious plotline when there are so many more interesting characters to follow.

You live in The Valley and are forced into the karate gang war. Which dojo do you join?

Miyagi-Do because Cobra Kai would eat me alive. Also I’d probably straight up get stuck and die in that cement mixer, if I even made it that far XD Besides, being salty that your friend who you have a crush on likes martial arts better than you and starting martial arts to impress them but also being too lazy to join anything TOO intense is a Big Mood and I am certainly not speaking from personal experience here, no sirree

What’s your training montage song?

"Shut Up and Drive” by Rihanna for a weight-training and bicep-flexing montage, “Whatever It Takes” by Imagine Dragons for a more intense punching-and-kicking-shit montage. I don’t know why this is, I just feel it in my heart.

It’s the crossover event of the century! Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special?

*Briefly panics because I don’t actually watch that much TV and most of the stuff I do watch is fantasy/sci fi shit that absolutely would not work for a CK crossover*

Hmmmm okay but ACTUALLY

You know what would be fucking funny as hell would be an It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia crossover. Allow me to elaborate: ~The Gang goes to LA on vacation during the height of the Karate Dojo Wars. They literally can get barely anything done without all these goddamn karate-fighting teenagers getting in the way. ~They are all very annoyed by this. Even the most obscure of tourist attractions is eventually intercepted by karate fights. ~Mac tries to join Cobra Kai because he sees all this karate fighting on, and wants to unquestionably prove both his badassery and masculinity. Both Johnny and Kreese are like “Wtf are you doing here? Aren’t you like 30?” ~Mac gets a planet-sized crush on Johnny after all of 5 minutes and endlessly gushes to the gang about him. The gang mercilessly roast him about this and about how much of a pathetic loser with his life together in no way whatsoever Johnny sounds like. They proceed to have exactly 0 self awareness about this. ~The Waitress is in town visiting family or something, and Charlie is stalking her, as per usual. However, every time he’s about to go up and talk to her, a pack of battling Miyagi-Dos and Cobra Kais throwing punches and kicks everywhere blocks his path. One times, Mac is among one of these packs and Charlie is like “???? He didn’t get kicked out of that teen karate dojo yet???” ~Seeing how much the Kids These Days seem to like fighting, Charlie drops by a local high school to try and sell Fight Milk to the kids doing karate. Only Kyler and Brucks buy into it, and subsequently get the entire West Valley High wrestling team sick. Charlie is inevitably arrested, as Counselor Blatt thinks he’s selling the kids drugs. ~Dennis makes a plan to have sex with every hot chick he can in Los Angeles. He meets Ali on a dating app post-divorce, and inevitably tries to bang her. It doesn’t work. ~Frank crashes the rental car, and inevitably the gang ends up at one of Daniel’s dealerships. Dee quickly takes a liking to Daniel and is like “Watch, assholes--Imma homewreck this guy’s marriage.” She starts frequenting the dealerships to attempt to flirt with Daniel, until one day she walks in on him having sex with Johnny in a back room and she’s like “Is that the guy from Mac’s goddamn dojo?!?!” ~Dennis, of course, tries to sleep with Amanda. Amanda is not having it, and rebukes him in the most snarky, Amanda-esque way possible. Dennis is just like “Oh not AGAIN--the women in this goddamn diva city have too high of standards!” ~Later on, the gang is at the beach and Dennis spots the blonde lady he went out on an ill-fate date with, and decides to give it another shot--that is, until he sees her go up and kiss another woman and he’s like “IS THAT THE LADY FROM THE CAR DEALERSHIP??? STUPID-KARATE-KICK-COMMERCIAL’S WIFE?!? YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.” ~Dee complains to Dennis about her lack of luck getting laid, and Dennis is just like “Oh come ON, is everyone in Los Angeles gay???” Smash cut to Hawk and Demetri having sex, Moon and Piper making out, Bert and Nate holding hands, Chris and Mitch doing oral, and Amanda, Ali, and Carmen having a threesome. ~Frank tries to scam Kreese into buying cheaply-made karate equipment for his dojo. The gang ends up having to leave LA because Kreese is quite literally plotting all of their murders.

For tagging, uuuuhhhhhh @jackonthelongwalk @soe-leo @max-eagle-fang @cc-tinslebee @backawayfromthegay @asphodel-storm do the thing, if y’all haven’t yet!

#cobra kai #cobra kai season 1 #cobra kai season 2 #cobra kai season 3 #ck #tag game #binary boyfriends #daniel larusso #johnny lawrence #it's always sunny in philadelphia #iasip

[snowdice]

Big Bang Editing Story [Day 107]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51

I have a medium amount of time today, but also need to get things done. Unsure how long I will work on this. Also going to get interrupted by a meeting right in the middle of my work time. :(

Chapter 52 (Mr. Deknis)

It was Jeffers Deknis’s second busiest time of year right after the fall harvest. However, unlike the fall harvest, not all of his workers were yet at the castle. The winter had been harsh and while the last snowfall had been a month ago, many of his workers whose families lived far from the castle had sent word they would be late arriving for various reasons. A few were dealing with sick relatives and others had to help fix things broken by storms for their families before making the trek. One who lived in the mountains up north was still snowed in.

So, he was dealing with only about 70% of his usual staff, meaning he was even busier than he usually was in the spring.

However, despite how busy he was, he didn’t mind taking a bit of time out of his schedule to help plant a little plot of land he’d reserved for a special selection of plants.

Virgil has spent a lot of time deciding on what plant he wanted to grow in the plot Jerffers had given him. He’d combed through multiple books even though it quickly became clear he couldn’t read well and talked to Jeffers about his options extensively before finally coming to a decision.

He’d decided on a flower called Zygopetalum maculatum which was a type of orchid. It wouldn’t be an easy flower to grow considering they didn’t naturally have the right climate for it, but with a bit of magical fertilizer and ruins in the ground near them, it was feasible.

Since Virgil had chosen his flower, Jeffers had dedicated a bit of his time each day to explaining what they needed to do for it to grow and had set him up with the correct materials. Virgil had spent a good chunk of the last two weeks outside on his marked off plot of land doing as instructed to get the soil in the right condition.

Sometimes Logan and Patton joined him and sometimes he was alone, but he was clearly dedicated to his task. Jeffers had stopped by and tested the soil the day before and found it was adequately prepared for planting Virgil’s flowers and had told the boy as much.

Despite being already very busy, Jeffers had allowed for an hour out of his schedule to help Virgil plant his flowers this afternoon.

Even though Jeffers had told him exactly where in his schedule he’d made time for it, Virgil had come early.

Very early.

He’d stalked Jeffers’ footsteps all day. If the boy were a cat, Jeffers would have assumed he’d accidentally left a slice of meat in his back pocket after breakfast.

Jeffers ended up letting him help with a few other things in the morning which he seemed to enjoy. He seemed to appreciate planting things even if they weren’t his flowers. He was also good at it if a bit slower than necessary in his caution to make sure he didn’t mess anything up.

Jeffers ended up sending Patton to get an extra packed lunch from Helen for Virgil (as people didn’t like when the gardeners tracked mud into the dinning hall) and they ended up eating while sitting on the base of the fountain by the plot of land Virgil had been tending to.

The water in the fountain was now flowing, having recently been cleaned and turned on and birds were chirping in the distance. It was a nice, calming environment. This was why Jeffers liked to spend so much time outside. Or at least, it was one of the reasons.

There was a soft meow from beside them that drew Jeffers’ attention. Jeffers looked down to see one of the castle’s many cats standing on its hind legs with one of its paws on the fountain’s base. It was staring at them expectantly. Jeffers recognized the yellow stripped cat as one of the friendlier ones that Patton had tamed as a kitten. It meowed again when it saw him looking.

“What?” Jeffers asked it, raising one eyebrow. “I know you’re not starving.”

It meowed again in complaint. Then it turned to Virgil. Virgil was instantly tearing off a bit of his chicken sandwich to feed to the cat.

“You don’t need to feed him,” Jeffers said. “Patton takes care of that plenty well.”

Despite what Jeffers had said, the cat gobbled up the piece of chicken Virgil had fed him like he was starving.

“It’s Buttercup,” Virgil informed Jeffers. The name vaguely rang a bell.

“You remember all of Patton’s names for them?” Jeffers asked, honestly impressed. There were so many cats.

Virgil nodded and ripped off another piece of chicken. The cat went flying at it with gusto.

“Keep some for yourself too,” Jeffers said. “You look less fed than the cats.” Thankfully he was looking more fed than he had at the beginning of winter.

“But he’s hungry,” Virgil replied with a frown.

“He’s a glutton is what he is,” Jeffers said. “He’s already had his lunch by now I’d imagine and is more than free to hunt down rodents in the barn if he needs a snack.”

Virgil frowned and gave the cat another piece of chicken.

“You’re too good of a kid,” Jeffers said with an eyeroll.

Virgil just frowned at him and took a bite of his sandwich for himself this time.

“Make sure to eat extra dinner if you’re going to feed the cats your lunch,” Jeffers said. “Though I’m sure Helen will be feeding you extra by default when she hears you’ve been helping me in the garden all day.”

“I’m fine,” Virgil said, stubbornly. He took another bite of his sandwich and fed another to the cat.

Jeffers considered him. ‘Fine,’ was a very vague word and his powers didn’t ping on it as a lie because it could mean a variety of things. He had a feeling Virgil knew that.

Jeffers wasn’t a fool. The kids had been talking around his powers about something all summer, though he couldn’t figure out what exactly it was about. Virgil was almost as good at it as Logan. Maybe he was even better.

“Not hungry enough to eat the entire sandwich by yourself then?” Jeffers asked.

Instead of replying verbally, Virgil just shrugged. Clever little bastard.

Jeffers sighed. Helen had packed some of the canned peaches in their lunches, so Jeffers pulled his out and set the container next to the boy. Virgil looked at the offering in surprise.

“Cats don’t eat peaches,” he cautioned. “It’s bad for their digestion.”

“I don’t need to take your food,” Virgil said with a frown.

“Yeah, you do,” said Jeffers. “I’m and old man, not a growing boy. You should eat them.”

Virgil frowned and looked like he was about to argue.

“Eat your lunch so we can plant your flowers kid,” Jeffers huffed.

Virgil hesitated, but the idea of getting to plant his flowers seemed to trump his desire to argue with Jeffers about lunch and he picked up the dish of peaches.

Jeffers went about finishing what was left of his lunch as Virgil continued to eat his own. The cat ran off when it noticed there was no more meat available.

Jeffers rolled his eyes. The thing was probably running off to go scam more people out of their lunch. Patton had spoiled them far too much and they were too good at making cute starving expressions.

“Alright,” Jeffers said once they were done. “Are you ready to plant your orchids.”

Virgil nodded eagerly and Jeffers packed away their trash before getting up.

“Good,” Jeffers said. “You have all of the supplies I told you we needed gathered?”

Virgil nodded and started to list off everything that Jeffers had said.

“Then, we can get started planting,” Jeffers said with a smile.

  Chapter 53 (Virgil)

Virgil and Mr. Deknis took their time planting the orchids. Virgil had done everything Mr. Deknis had instructed him to do with the plot of land prior to planting. He’d had Mr. Deknis write it all down, so Logan could read him the instructions each morning, and had dutifully followed each step. The sheet of paper was in Virgil’s pocket even now. He knew the words so well at this point that he could have recited each list item even if it had words he still couldn’t read.

It had been hard work getting the soil just right for the flowers he wanted to plant, but it was fun hard work. Working hard was different when he didn’t have to do something but wanted to do something. He’d also noticed it was easier to do physical labor when he wasn’t hungry, something he hadn’t been all winter in the castle.

He’d thought since he hadn’t been training as much as usual over the winter months that he’d be weaker when Spring came, but he actually felt stronger and had much more energy.

He’d also grown taller without realizing it thanks to Logan’s nutrition potion. He’d noticed when he’d been in the shed earlier. When he’d first hid in the shed upon arriving at the castle the previous fall, he’d been able to walk under all of the hanging tools in the back. Today, he’d hit his head on some of the them.

His body had changed a lot in the past few months. It made planting with Mr. Deknis much easier.

Virgil had already helped Mr. Deknis with planting some vegetables this Spring, but he still was careful to pay attention as the gardener showed him how to plant the first few orchid bulbs.

Then, Virgil was handed the container of bulbs for himself to try planting. Mr. Deknis watched him plant the first few orchids and Virgil glanced up for approval before moving on each time. He always got a nod and small smile.

Eventually, Mr. Deknis took a few bulbs himself to the opposite end of the patch of soil and started planting some himself, trusting Virgil to plant his portion of the flowers right without supervision. Virgil couldn’t help but be happy about the show of trust given to him.

“Good job,” Mr. Deknis said after the two of them had planted two rows of orchids. “You’ve got an eye for planting things.”

“Thanks,” Virgil said bashfully.

“How old are you again?”

“I’m 14,” Virgil said, unsure why he was asking.

Mr. Deknis nodded. “Maybe in a few years you’ll want to get a job as one of the gardeners here,” he said. “I could always use one who knows how to respect plants like you and with how much you’ve been volunteering to help already, you’ll know a good amount by then.”

“Really?” Virgil asked.

Mr. Deknis nodded.

“Why not now?”

“You’re only 14,” Mr. Deknis said. “You don’t need to worry about working. I’m happy to let you tag along and watch or even help a bit with planting when you want, but you should just be a kid.”

That confused Virgil. He’d been considered out of training to be an assassin as soon as he’d turned 14-years-old last fall. Now he was being told he needed to wait a few years to help plant seeds?

“I could do it,” Virgil said.

“I know you could,” Mr. Deknis said, “but you don’t need to. Have a little fun this summer.”

“But I want to,” Virgil said.

Mr. Deknis huffed out a laugh. “I know,” he said, “and you can feel free to care for your orchids and help me out all you want, but no jobs until you’re at least 16.”

“It’s better than any other jobs I’ve had,” Virgil muttered, honestly annoyed he couldn’t become a gardener right now because of his age.

Mr. Deknis raised an eyebrow. “And what other jobs have you had?”

Virgil froze. That was not a good line of questioning. “Uh…” Virgil said and Mr. Deknis’s expression was changing in an alarming way. “Different things. I’ve carried things for people and, uh, cleaned.”

“Carried things and cleaned, huh?” Mr. Desknis said. It felt like he wasn’t only testing Virgil’s words for lies but observing his face and posture too.

Virgil should be good at lying. He should. That was a major part of being an assassin, but Virgil had started to slip after spending so long around people who were not a danger to him.

At least not a danger to him as long as he didn’t get caught in a lie.

He’d been sloppy with the way he’d frozen when asked a question and with the stuttering. He should have been prepared; he was prepared for the next question.

“You only had to carry things and clean some things up?” Mr. Deknis asked, his eyebrows still raised.

Virgil carefully smoothed out his face, forcing his shoulder to relax as he shrugged. “And some other things,” he said easily. Not a lie. He could feel his heart race anyway.

Mr. Deknis’s eyes bored into him for a long moment and then he titled his head to the side and squinted at him.

Virgil just shot him a small smile. “Can we finish planting the flowers, please?” he asked politely. “I was very excited about it and would like to finish it today.”

Mr. Deknis did not reply for a long moment, and Virgil was careful to keep his expression blank.

Finally, the gardener relented, breaking his stare. If this was because he believed Virgil or not was unclear.

“Yeah, kid,” he said slowly. “Let’s finish planting your flowers.”

Virgil nodded, and he didn’t have to lie as much now as cautious eagerness returned to him. He really did want to finish planting his flowers in addition to stopping Mr. Deknis from asking uncomfortable questions about where Virgil had come from.

Mr. Deknis nodded to the bag of bulbs. They went back to work planting the flowers, but Virgil could feel Mr. Deknis’s eyes on him almost constantly. He had a feeling that this time, he wasn’t watching for how well Virgil was planting the bulbs, but something else.

Virgil was careful to not let his mask slip at all the entire time.

When they were finished planting Virgil’s entire plot of land, they cleaned up the equipment and stored it back away in the garden shed.

Another day Virgil might have stayed and helped Mr. Deknis with other things. Today he was still trying to cover for his bad lying earlier, however, so, Virgil decided to just go back to the castle and shower.

To his surprise Mr. Deknis also started walking off in the direction of the castle.

“Don’t you have more planting to do?” Virgil asked when they got to the door. He knew the man was very busy and his workday was only a bit more than half over.

“I do,” Mr. Deknis confirmed, “but I needed to talk to the king about something first.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Okay. I’m going to go shower.”

Mr. Deknis nodded. “I’ll see you sometime later then,” he said.

“Thank you for helping me plant the orchids.”

Mr. Deknis smiled slightly at that. “Anytime, kid.”

  Chapter 54 (Patton)

“I still can’t believe he’s allowing this,” King Thomas said from next to Patton. The two of them were standing at the edge of the arena outside the horse stable, watching from a safe distance.

“If he hadn’t tried to bite me earlier, I’d think he was a different horse,” Patton agreed.

“He doesn’t even let Logan ride him,” the king said. “At least not ride him and give him directions.”

Patton was very aware of that. Logan did on occasion choose to get up onto Mr. Apple’s saddle. However, Mr. Apples was always the once who got to decide where they went after that. Logan had no say.

 With that in mind, Patton, Logan, and every stable hand who’d heard about the prospective riding lessons had tried to convince Virgil to learn to ride on a different horse. Virgil was just as stubborn as Mr. Apples however and had insisted. Logan, being the only one who could be around Mr. Apples without risk had become his defacto tutor.

Not even Logan could have expected that within a week, Virgil would be able to control Mr. Apples. Though perhaps ‘control’ was the wrong word. Nothing could control Mr. Apples, but for some reason, Mr. Apples seemed willing to do as Virgil asked.

 Even right now Mr. Apples was trotting around the training arena like he was a well-trained trick horse warming up with its rider.

“Logan told him we could go on an actual ride today if the lesson went well,” Patton told the king. The lesson seemed to be just getting over because Logan said something to Virgil and Virgil started to climb off. Mr. Apples was patient and still as he dismounted.

“Do you think he’d mind if I went with you?” King Thomas asked.

Patton shrugged. “Mr. Apples might.”

“Mr. Apples definitely will,” the king replied. “I’ll come anyway.”

 Logan had walked over to where Patton and the king were standing while Virgil fed Mr. Apples some apple pieces as a reward.

“I hear you are going to go riding today,” king Thomas said.

Logan nodded. “Mr. Apples seems to listen to him well enough,” he said.

“I might join you if that’s alright. Where are you kids going?” the king asked.

“I was thinking the main forest path,” Logan replied. “It’s not a particularly difficult route, but it’s also a part of the castle grounds Virgil hasn’t been able to see yet. Loraine told me it has been recently cleared after the winter.”

 “That sounds like a good idea,” the king said. “Are you going now?”

“Once Patton and I saddle up our horses,” Logan said. “You can come.”

“Great,” the king said with a smile. “I’ll ask for Bella’s saddle to be brought out. I haven’t gone on a ride yet this week.”

He turned then to walk towards the stables leaving Patton and Logan alone.

“Do you think he’s been acting weird?” Logan asked, turning towards Patton.

Patton frowned. “No,” he said. “Not really.”

“I’m just wondering why he wants to go horseback riding with us.”

“He likes spending time with you?” Patton guessed.

#proofread stories #not writing

[whatyouandihave-makesmefree]

How to say “I love you” without actually saying it - or 137 Milkovichy ways to say “I fuckin’ love Ian Clayton Gallagher”.

1. Kiss me, and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out.

2. I’ll meet you there in 20.

3. You say that again, I’ll rip your tongue out of your head.

4. Take your hand off the glass.

5. You wanna chit chat more or you wanna get on me?

6. Fuckin’ tough guy, huh?

7. Jesus Christ, you want us to spread a blanket out and look for shooting stars next?

8. Sorry, I gotta go kill your dad, but I’m doing a lot of people a favor, including you.

9. -I missed you-  You did?  -Yeah, man.-

10. So, uh, what you going down for, then, huh?

11. Don’t know what you see in that geriatric viagroid.

12. -You fuck anyone in there yet?-  God, no.  -Wise choice.-

13. Hey, my dad took my brothers on a run out of town for a couple days, so you wanna ditch that dump and crash at my place, you can.

14. Fuck you, is what you were invited to.

15. What are you hoping, I tell you not to go? I’m gonna chase after you like some bitch?

16. -Don’t.-  Don’t what?  -Just…-

17. -You seen him?-  Why do you care?  -Don’t.-

18. You heard from Gallagher?

19. Not fucking Frank. The other one, the redhead.

20. I like fucking carrot-tops, like, with the freckles and the pale skin and fucking alien-looking.

21. He in trouble? What kind of trouble?

22. You wearing cologne?  -No. It’s Kenyatta’s perfume soap shit.-

23. I gotta take care of something important.

24. No, I’m not having fun. I spent the whole day looking for your coked-out ass.

25. You coming back?

26. I’ll do it.

27. Those fingers go anywhere near that cock, I’m gonna break every knuckle in your hand, all 15 of them.

28. Together.

29. That all you think he is? Some twink?

30. Probably best if you don’t, tough guy.

31. Of course we are.

32. You want me to go?  -No, I don’t want you to go.-

33. I’m not lying to you.

34. Ian, what you and I have makes me free, not what these assholes know.

35. Well, good. Leave. What the hell do I care, bitch? Fuck.

36. Hey! Excuse me! Can I get everybody’s attention, please? I just want everybody here to know I’m fucking gay. A big old ‘mo. I just thought everybody should know that. You happy now?

37. Fuck you! Don’t worry about it! I’ve been staying at Ian’s since you’ve been in the can, bitch! Guess what we’ve been doing, daddy! We’ve been fucking! And I take it! He gives it to me good and hard, and I fucking like it.

38. You’re a fucking dick. Yeah, there. That’s what you get.

39. You love him?  -Maybe. I don’t know.-  Because he has a real penis?  -Yeah, I guess.-

40. Rise and fucking shine, Cinderella.

41. Yo, sleepy-face.

42. Hey, you okay? Feeling sick or something?

43. All right, you want me to bring you back something to eat?

44. Ian, are you high? You take something?

45. Fuck’s wrong with him?

46. Before, he was fine. He was happy. He’s staying up all hours of the night, dancing, telling fucking jokes. He kicks my ass every day. I can’t keep up with him.

47. No, no, look. He– he’s low… We cheer him up.

48. What do you mean, hos– Like a psych ward? No fucking way! No fucking way! He’s staying here.

49. I can– I can take care of him. Okay? Let me take care of him until he’s better.

50. Don’t fucking tell me what’s impossible! We’re taking care of him here. You, me, us. His fucking family.

51. He’s not going to some fucking nut house. You hear me? He stays here. He’s staying with me.

52. I’ll be there.  -Better be.-

53. All right. I guess I’m going with you.

54. She’ll send him to a fucking shrink. No. We fix this ourselves.

55. I came out for you, you piece of shit.

56. What’s your type?  -Redhead.-  I am downstairs.  -Batshit crazy.-  Check.  -Packing 9 inches.-

57. I got to take you to a hospital, Ian.

58. I’m worried about you.

59. His partner. Lover? Family? You know?

60. At least he’ll be getting some kind of fucking help.

61. Relationship to the patient?  -Sister.-   -You?-  -Uh, boyfriend.-

62. Hey. Sorry I’m late.

63. We gotta get you to a fucking clinic. Get some meds. Today.

64. Hey, it’s okay. It’s all right.

65. He’s not a fucking lab rat.

66. He’s got me.

67. Hey, Ian’s sleeping in there.

68. All right, breakfast of champs. We got your mood stabilizer, anti-psychotic, anti-depressant. Gatorade.

69. Shut the fuck up. Take the pills, bitch.

70. Hey, no caffeine on your meds.

71. Eat it. Take all those pills on an empty stomach and you’re going to have diarrhea real bad.

72. I didn’t know which Bs to get, so I just got all the fucking Bs. I got B-complex, super B-complex, B-12, B-6.

73. The hell happened to your hand?

74. Did a doctor take care of that?

75. You can’t go anywhere unless you get that looked at, man.

76. Your hand, man.

77. No, no. Look, you’re not supposed to drink on lithium. It makes your blood fucking toxic, and it gets you hammered in like two seconds flat. You can’t-

78. You look like a fucking wet rat.

79. We’re going on a date.  -Fuck, yes, we are.-

80. Where the fuck are you?

81. Where the fuck you been? 

82. You okay?

83. It means we take care of each other.

84. It means thick and thin, good times, bad, sickness, health, all that shit.

85. You look good.

86. Got a new tattoo. Did it myself. Hurt like a son of a bitch.

87. Been thinking about you. You ever think of me? Gonna wait for me?

88. Will you? Wait?

89. You like the high school bleachers? Our spot, man.

90. Look, I’m, um I’m getting some new IDs, some cash, and heading to Mexico.-  Wow.  -You should come.-

91. Thought a lot about you inside. You’re under my skin, man. The fuck can I do? Hmm? Can I do?

92. Knew you’d come. 

93. Come here.

94. I’m gonna see you again?

95. The fuck you looking at?

96. It’s what kept me going in the joint. The beach. Us.

97. Oh, check it out. Ian Gallagher putting his big boy pants on!

98. You never fucking visited me.

99. What am I leaving behind? My family? Who cares I never see those shitheads again. You had my back more than they ever did.

100. You ever think about me? When I was in the joint?

101. Fuck, I missed you.

102. What the fuck is that? I don’t want your fucking money! I want you to come with– me.

103. Don’t do this.

104. Fuck you, Gallagher.

105. I rolled on the cartel I was working for, and in exchange, guess who gets to pick where he gets locked up?

106. No, I just did it ‘cause it was the right thing.

107. Would you be fucking happy?  -Yes, fuck, yes!-

108. I guess I need some advice. It’s about my partner, Ian.

109. You’re not throwing your fuckin’ parole for me. We need to get you the hell outta this shit-hole.

110. You don’t belong in here, Gallagher.

111. I shouldn’t have asked you to stay.

112. FaceTime your brother. See the baby.

113. You seen Ian?

114. About time, man. Your Panda Express is getting cold.

115. Eat your Szechuan beans.

116. Chill your fucking tits and eat your noodles, man.

117. Let’s get out of here, get some Pinkberry.

118. No. No. I’m not running. I need to protect him.

119. Jesus Christ. You proposing to me over fucking patty melts?

120. Fuck it. I do.

121. When you know, you know. You know?

122. No, just saying you don’t love me enough now. And that’s fine. It’s cool.

123. Jesus Christ, save the fucking speech, you pussy. I’ll marry you. Of course I’ll fucking marry you.

124. You must really love cock.  -I definitely love one.-

125. You ever try to get me to move to Milwaukee, I’ll fuckin’ murder you.

126. Hey, I like the blue ones.  -Yeah?- 

127. You sure you still wanna go through with this?  -Yes. Why?-

128. You’re a sneaky bastard.

129. -Take your meds?-  Yes.  -Good.-

130. The son of a bitch is never gonna let me be happy. He needs to die today.

131. Well, there’s plenty of strays wandering around the neighborhood. I’m sure we can pick one up for cheap.

132. Yeah, well, at least I don’t have to hide in a coffin till the sun goes down.

133. Damn straight, Gallagher.

134. I, Mikhailo, take you, Ian, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health,  to love and to cherish you till death do us part.

135. Good morning, Mr - Millagher?

136. You hungry?

137. You wanna go again?  -Absolutely.-

#ok i'm pretty sure this was legit #sorry yall #i had to #i know you're definitely gonna read all through this #even though yall know every word by heart #we deserve this #shameless #shamelessus #gallavich #gallahitched #gallavich wedding #ian x mickey #mr gallavich #mr millagher #shameless 10x12 #Ian Gallagher #mickey milkovich #Shameless season 1 to 10

[walkingdaryls]

no sunburns

pairing: loki x female!reader

requested: nope!

summary: you and loki spend time together in tony’s beach house during the team’s vacation

—btw, i don’t usually like making giving reader a specific description (so it’s relatable to everyone) but for the sake of this storyline, she’s pale. i’m sorry if this is an inconvenience to anyone :( love u

(obviously: a bit AU. just for funsies...also why does it look like he’s saying “how much do u weigh” in the gif LMAO)

You could tell it was late into the morning by the way the bright sun shined on your face through the large windows. Usually, you’d groan and flip to the other side of the bed and try to dive back into sweet, sweet slumber. But you suddenly remember this wasn’t the Avengers Tower. For the past couple days you’d been on a blissful beach in Hawaii with the rest of the team. Tony was kind enough to offer all of you to stay in his huge beach house, on a completely private beach with a lively city just a ten minute drive away. When people said “paradise”, this is what they meant.

You eagerly stretched, letting a sigh of relief escape from your mouth. As you walked out of your room and into the main area of the house for some coffee, you were suddenly put off by the silence in the house. The only thing that could be heard were the waves crashing outside and birds chirping happily. The past couple mornings would be extremely loud and obnoxious due to the team all eagerly trying to eat breakfast, get their things together, and head to the beach bright and early. And it’d usually end with everyone yelling at Tony for being the last one to get dressed.

“Um, last time I checked: my house. I may get dressed whenever I damn please,” he’d said one day.

The day before, Bucky had accidentally snapped one of the paddle boards in half, causing ruckus throughout the house. That’s what woke you up at 7am.

That was your only issue about this vacation: waking up early. You were known as the “sleepyhead” on the team...always staying up too late and waking up before lunch (on the days you could, obviously). It was planned for everyone to be on the beach early in the morning so the rest of the day could be for having a nice barbecue on the back porch, visiting the town, and then going out at night. If it weren’t for Nat coming to wake you up right after she did, you’d be the last one out the door every morning. Except for today.

You glanced at the vintage clock on the wall.

10:50 am. Your eyebrows furrowed. Was everyone sleeping in today? You didn’t remember Nat coming to wake you up or anything. Weird. You brushed it off, continuing to make your coffee.

“Well, look who finally decided to wake up,” a voice sounded from the living room. You jumped, sighing of relief once you saw the familiar face standing meters away.

Loki wore his usual slight smirk on his face. He was wearing an oversized, dark green button-up shirt with black beach shorts underneath. It was so quite amusing to see Loki dressed in anything other than his usual black suit or his green uniform. Thor practically dragged him on this trip, so the past few days he just wore a sour expression on his face.

“Yep...” You sighed, not knowing exactly how to have a conversation with the man, “Want some coffee?”

“No, thank you. Already had some hours ago. You know, when everyone else woke up.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Wait, where is everyone else? Nat didn’t wake me up.”

Loki walked closer to the kitchen, his hands behind his back all mannerly, “She tried. Twice. You wouldn’t budge. Steve thought it’d be fair to just let you get your sleep for one night.”

“Oh...” You sipped your coffee, “So they all left already?”

“Yes. Probably will not come back for another few hours,” He said simply. You felt quite upset knowing you were missing out, but at the same, a full night’s sleep was nice. Besides, you still had nearly two weeks left of vacation.

“You didn’t want to go with them?” During the three days in Hawaii so far, Loki only joined you and the team twice. One time at the beach, which he only lasted twenty minutes before going back inside to read a book. And the second time, when you all went shopping at a flea market nearby. He joined your meals at the house, obviously, but he didn’t really go out. It upset you. Others might’ve still hated his guts, but you didn’t, and he deserved to enjoy the time off.

“No.”

“Loki, I know you don’t wanna be here, but at least use the free time to your advantage. Once the two weeks are over, it’ll be back to work. Who knows when we’ll get another long vacation, right?”

“You mortals are so obsessed with this so-called vacation. You do realize you could enjoy ‘free time’ whenever you please, right?” He stared at you intensely, and you didn’t like it one bit.

“That’s not really how it works,” You breathed out, “Vacations like this: where I have absolutely zero worries...extremely rare. I’m putting it to good use.”

He chuckled sarcastically, “By sleeping away half of the day?”

You stood there with your eyes narrowed, wanting to slap his amused grin off his face. You and Loki never personally had any issues with each other, but he did get on your goddamn nerves sometimes. It was always sarcastic remarks when sitting across each other from the dinner table. Or smirks from across the gym during training. You’d consider each other friends....but, really odd friends.

“Just for today,” You spit back, “And FYI, I’ll be putting the rest of my day to good use. Until the others get back.”

“How so?”

You gestured to the large glass windows showing off the gorgeous beach just meters away. Loki raised his eyebrows in amusement, humming a quick “ah”.

“You wanna come, too?” You said without even thinking it.

For just a flash of a second, the look in his eyes became just a bit softer. He truly was not used to the feeling of being wanted or included in something. But you barely even noticed before his usual demeanor returned.

“I hate the beach.”

You shrugged, “I hated it too, actually. For a longgg time. But Nat slowly started dragging me out during vacations. To pools, too. I eventually started enjoying it. I just hate how badly I burn.”

“Burn?”

“Yes,” You absentmindedly pulled down your soft t-shirt down off your shoulder, exposing the cherry-red burns covering your skin, “See?”

Loki slowly stepped forwards, almost mesmerized. He was practically towering over you. This made you gulp, suddenly extremely aware of how close he was to you. You could feel the coldness of his skin radiating off of him, even without touch. His hand was slightly raised, as if he wanted to lightly touch your shoulder, but he refrained. You secretly wanted his icy hands to add that relief to your burns, but you kept silent as well.

“Does it hurt?” He asked, stepping back once again. You responded quickly, covering your shoulder once again.

“Yes, to be honest. But I’ve grown used to it. One of the downsides of being pale.”

“But I don’t burn. And I’ve been told I look like a ghost?”

You snorted, remembering Clint’s comment at the dinner table one night.

“Well, you’re a God, remember? I think mortals have different rules with that kinda stuff.”

Loki nodded, “How boring.”

You sighed, “Tell me about it.”

The room fell silent, so you awkwardly sipped your coffee once more before speaking up.

“I’m going to go put on my swimsuit. So...no beach for you?” You sort of wanted some company, if you were being honest.

Loki shook his head, “I’ll just go back to my book.”

“Alright then,” you nodded before scurrying back to your room and finishing your coffee.

You let out a large breath once you shut the door in your room. You didn’t know what it was exactly, but Loki always made you nervous. And it wasn’t in a bad way, more of an...intimidating way. It didn’t help that he was obviously handsome, too.

Tying up your bikini, you carefully observed yourself in the mirror. You looked great. The green, leather bikini had been a gift from Wanda a few months back. You had yet to use it, so why not? You winced at your burns on your shoulders once more before heading out the door with your sunscreen and towel in your hands. And of course, your signature cat-eye sunglasses on your face.

Making your way through the living room, you suddenly became extremely aware of Loki’s presence on the couch, and his gaze following you. But you didn’t dare look back. It was a rush of relief once you passed the glass doors and set aside your things.

The day was absolutely gorgeous. The sun was shining, but nothing too strong. There was a gentle breeze, and you felt blissful. You even danced around by yourself to the speaker playing next to you, partially forgetting about Loki sitting just meters away inside.

You prepared to skip over into the clear waters when you remembered. Sunscreen, ugh. You could just see the look of disappointment on Steve’s face if he found out you forgot sunscreen and only made your burns worse. The entire team had been in shock upon seeing how badly you burned in just a couple days, but Steve was the most worried. Always, constantly reminding you to put sunscreen. Especially on your back...since that spot was easily missed.

So there you stood, with music blasting on the beach, rubbing the cream all around your body. You made sure you wouldn’t miss an inch of your body. You were sick of the burns, of the itching, of the potential peeling. You made sure to double up on the sunscreen when you got to your shoulders. And your cheeks on your face...you got easily red there too.

But when it got to your back, you looked like an idiot trying to reach back there. Usually you’d have Nat or Wanda to help you right away, but you were alone.

Well, almost alone.

You didn’t dare look back inside, scared of seeing Loki watch you struggle. The temptation to ask him for help was extreme, but it was too embarrassing. You thought about maybe just hoping for the best and getting in the beach like this, but it was too risky. No more sunburns.

You tried to reach your back once more time before you realized it was an impossible task. So, very hesitantly, you turned to look inside the house. And just as you expected, Loki’s eyes were on you. His book had been thrown aside, and he was leaning over to get a good look at you. He held his usual smirk, obviously enjoying watching you struggle.

“A little help, please?” You called out. You felt so childish. But to be honest, you were a bit surprised when Loki got up with no protesting. Just an amused eye roll.

Your leg bounced a bit in anticipation as the raven-haired God made his way down the couple steps and over to you.

“Yes?” He asked. You knew he was teasing, and you hated it.

Your eyes narrowed, “I can’t reach my back. Could- Could you please?” He eyed the bottle you held out to him.

He inhaled sharply, “I guess so.” His cold hands grabbed the sunscreen from yours. But you didn’t flinch when you felt his icy fingers brush past yours.

You turned around, facing the beach and away from him. The snap of the opened cap could be heard. He squeezed the sunscreen into his hands before rubbing them together a few times, and gently placing them on your back.

The feeling of cool skin on your burnt back was pure bliss. You didn’t give him any reaction, but your eyes did close with pure relief. His hands were hesitant, but he began rubbing the cream around your back.

“Your hands are cold. It’s nice,” You say first. His hands stop for a split second before returning to their job.

He noticed you never flinched, “They don’t bother you?” His voice was soft.

“No, I’ve always liked the cold.”

It was that sentence- the simplest comment - that had Loki almost freezing in his spot. But he remained calm. And surprisingly, so did you.

Oh fuck, did I just accidentally flirt with the God of Mischief? You wanted to cower away. You silently thanked the skies for not facing him in that very moment.

“Oh?” Was all he said. His hand movements had slowed just a bit.

You blurted out, “Actually...god this is really weird, but could you just- could you place your hands on my shoulders? Like, just leave them there? Cold compress helps burns.” And now you were extremely thankful you couldn’t see his face.

“Okay.”

You couldn’t help but exhale loudly upon the feeling of his coolness on your skin. It was just what you needed. You two stood in silence for just a few seconds longer before you gently tapped his hands, signaling it was enough. You finally turned to face him.

“Thank you,” You smiled shyly.

“Do the burns feel better?” His face remained neutral.

You nodded, “Much better.”

He gazed at you for a few seconds before snapping out of it.

“Well,” You spike up, “I’m gonna get in now.”

“Right,” He nodded. You nodded back, not sure on what to say. As you turned around to the beach, you suddenly stopped in your tracks. You didn’t want to leave the conversation off like that.

“Loki, can you please just get in?”

His amused expression returned, “Pardon?”

“I- I don’t like getting in the water by myself. The beach is fun with other people. Otherwise I’m just the idiot floating around like a fish.”

“A fish?” He snorted. You chuckled, digging your toes in the sand nervously. He caught that. He could sense your nervousness, which only softened him more.

How could he say no? You were the only person who’d ever offered him something so genuine.

He rolled his eyes, “Well, fine. Only because everyone else is gone.”

You smiled brightly, “Yay! Come on.” You jogged towards the shore without a second thought. The smile only grew once you were ankle deep in the cool waters. You turned around, finding Loki in the same spot as before, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. You couldn’t help but stare...He was so focused on his buttons, so it wouldn’t hurt, right?

Clint had been right. Loki was truly pale. Very pale. Even more than you. Yet his chest still glowed like the God he was. His skin was as soft as ever. You wondered for a second what it’d be like to run your hands-

“You mortals do love to stare a lot,” Loki said, making his way towards you. You simply smirked, looking away to mask the redness growing on your cheeks.

He hesitated once his feet reached the water. But you stood there, already knee deep, watching him patiently.

“It’s so therapeutic, I promise. Come on,” You beckoned him over. His face seemed so confused, you almost laughed.

Slowly yet surely, he finally stood right next to you. You looked up to him, eyes scrunched from your smile and the sun in your eyes. He stared you down, but he wasn’t holding the intense glare anymore. It was definitely much more peaceful. He was pretty like this.

“See?” You smiled wider, splashing him lightly.

He stood completely still for a hot second, before suddenly splashing you with as much water his strength could muster.

You gasped, “LOKI!” And you found yourself splashing him back.

And he splashed you again.

You screamed, going deeper into the water. He followed you, continuing his splashing. You tried to splash back, but it got to the point where you were so deep into the water, you had to focus on keeping yourself afloat rather than splashing Loki.

“Oh, fuck, I don’t reach here anymore. Time out, time out!” You barked a laugh, struggling with floating due to so much movement.

Loki’s genuine laughter was music to your ears. You’d never heard him release such a noise before.

His splashing stopped as he made his way over to you and gently scooped you up with one arm. It took you completely by surprise. You watched the God with wide, curious eyes.

Once balanced against him, and no longer struggling with floating, you splashed him once more, completely drenching his hair this time. He shut his eyes, promptly letting go of you in order to wipe his eyes.

You laughed loudly, swimming away closer to shore.

“You think you’re so clever,” Loki called out, hot on your tail. Your heartbeat accelerated as you felt him get closer to you.

You weren’t able to reach the shore before you felt Loki’s hand grab your foot and drag you back. You screamed, not able to contain the giggles pouring out of you.

Loki watched you with a smile on his face as you laughed with your eyes closed. You held your hands up to your face.

“Please don’t splash me, I’m begging you,” you yelled. You tried to get away, but he was quick.

His hands gripped your waist, pulling you in once again.

“Last time I checked, you splashed me first,” Loki said, his voice deep. Your faces were so close. So close. And with your wet bodies practically pressed against each other, the tension was suddenly thick.

You slowly came down from your fit of laughter, drawing back into reality: which was Loki’s face eerily close to yours. You sighed softly, making eye contact with his blue ones. You couldn’t read the look on his face, but his gaze was so intense once again, you had to hold your breath.

His fingers brushed your waist ever so slightly, and you reacted without thinking.

You leaned forward, meeting your lips with his. It was a quick peck, before you pulled back in shock.

Your cheeks were tomato red, and it wasn’t because of the sun anymore.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I-“ But your voice trailed off, because Loki’s other hand reached up to touch your face softly.

“L-Loki?” You whispered, your faces close once again.

“Don’t apologize, darling,” Loki said, before meeting you in a second kiss.

His lips against yours, his soft hand on your waist, your hand in his dark locks: it was almost too blissful.

You changed your mind: this was paradise.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” The familiar voice of Tony Stark sounded from the shore.

You helped, breaking apart from Loki, just to see your entire team watching you with their jaws on the floor.

“Oh,” Loki smirked, “Back so early?”

—

#x reader #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki odinson x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #avengers #avengers imagine #imagine #thor

[hecohansen31]

Not The Right Time

The Story Of How Everything Met The Family:

Ivar+Reader (Modern! AU)

(Masterlist) (Previous Chapter)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

A few things before you start reading, SO PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU START READING THE CHAPTER!

This is a filler chapter again as the previous ones, mostly because this came out to have a lot more things to write than I originally thought and instead of writing a whole lot and leave it without a sense I prefered writing two parts (the next will be the angsty one!)

Pretty please, also: Tumblr has been penalizing me a lot, not making my tags work and not sharing my work, so please... if you do like the chapter and enjoy my writing consider sharing it and commenting it (please don’t simply share it, because I didn’t come here to be famous, I came here to gain feedback).

It takes a LOOOOT of courage to pubblish our own works, hence although you don’t see it, us writers go through A LOOT in our writing and such, dealing with insecurities and anxieties, most of the time not to have a gain from it, so please do consider supporting us through feedback.

Feedback makes my fingers write faster and my heart beat stronger!

With this being said, I do hope you’ll enjoy it!

Have a nice reading!

SUMMARY: Finally the Thanksgving Day has come and you have to endure a family lunch with your past lover, which might bring back more feelings and insecurities than you have ever thought.

WORDS: 12,6 K

WARNINGS: Pregnancy, Unexpected Pregnancy, Pregnancy at a Young Age, Mention of Abortion (and Being Harsh About it), Heartbreak and General Angst, Abandonement Issues and Being A Single Mom, Mention of Infertility, Use of the Word Cripple.

You set up the umpteenth outfit for the following morning, eventually choosing your more elegant pair of jeans, black and high-waisted, matched to a white sweater with a V-neck cleavage, elegant but not matronly.

Would it be enough to impress Aslaug, the ice queen?

You shook your head annoyed with yourself and with your overthinking.

From the start of this week you had told yourself that you wouldn’t have stressed yourself out for the Thanksgiving you had to pass at the Lothbrock house, although you had promised yourself to appear in your best shape.

And yet, the entire week you had done nothing more than set up things and ideas for it, getting your luggage ready on Tuesday, meanwhile you got Eric to be in his bed early tonight so that you could check it to make sure you had everything you needed.

It would have been one sole day, but you had still packed a small baggage mostly for Eric, with a few change of clothes (four, precisely) and a more elegant set of clothes, although Ivar had promised you it’d be extremely informal.

But you remembered perfectly that Aslaug’s idea of informal were elegant vintage dresses, giving her the look of a desperate housewife out of a ‘50s commercial, but with eyes of pure steel and a smirk that could petrify anybody on who it was set on.

When you weren’t busy being afraid of her judgement for your uncured clothes and dirty hair, when you were younger, you admired her dearly.

But you knew she didn’t like you very much.

She and Ivar always had a strong relationship and you were sure that one of the many reasons why she didn’t like you truly, as any girl that Ivar might have brought her home, was that you had stolen her smaller son for quite some time.

So, you shouldn’t have been worried, in the slightest, about it anymore.

Although you and Ivar had a child together, he undoubtedly had no intention of bringing you back home to him or of creating a relationship with you.

But you were still scared shitless of her judgement.

You were halfway through setting up another possible combination of clothes, when your phone thrilled awake under the pile of clothes on your bed, and you went to answer it, noticing it was Ivar.

You almost hoped he’d tell you that he was sorry but the entire Thanksgiving lunch had been postponed.

But you got another kind of ‘bad’ news:

‘… Freydis has had… an urgent appointment’ he explained, his voice clearly showing some kind of worry, but at the same time… it almost didn’t feel authentic.

His voice was mechanical, but you blamed it on the phone.

‘… she has started bleeding this afternoon. The doctor says it isn’t anything worrying, but he wants her to avoid travelling and to keep her relaxed during this time’.

You had your own experience of bleeding a bit during your own pregnancy, so you could understand the doctor’s worry and you hoped that she’d be fine, saying so to Ivar as you explained that it was totally fine.

And that it wouldn’t have been a problem for you to cancel your planed for Thanksgiving.

You’d just have to postpone the meeting with Aslaug to another day.

‘… actually, about that…’ the tip of his tongue seemed heavy, almost slurring his words ‘… I don’t want to… it won’t cange anything… Freydis won’t simply be with us’.

You were extremely surprised by that admission as you tried to understand, why would Ivar come with you to his mother, when his pregnant fiancée was troubled with her pregnancy.

Although you knew it wasn’t your place

And Ivar seemed to feel your question.

‘I have tried… to tell Freydis that I feel more comfortable staying, but she won’t… she says that I am a fretting animal whenever she is sick… so she told me that it’d be better for health if I visit my mom’ Ivar’s voice was calm, almost as if he thought that Freydis’ request was normal and he accepted it easily.

Which contrasted perfectly with the way you remembered Ivar.

Back when you had been nothing more than a couple of friends, Ivar was always worried whenever you got minimally sick, although he was extremely grumpy about it, since he could be quite difficult with his emotions.

Once you had needed a small daily check-up at the hospital, and Ivar had literally hounded your bed, although your mother had been right there with you, leaving you two alone, as soon as she had noticed Ivar and that he wouldn’t back it up.

So, it felt strange that Ivar, the big and tough alpha man he had been taught to be, didn’t even try to protest against Freydis’ choice, when she was much pregnant with his pup and when she was the love of his life.

… unless…

… unless she wasn’t truly the love of his life.

But this was your idiotic brain trying to ease the slight and irrational jealousy you had been feeling, which had started when you had met Freydis and your heart had started beating again for Ivar.

But you were aware that it wasn’t useful in the slightest.

It hadn’t worked the first time.

Why would it work this time?

‘… I know that I seem awful’ he read your mind ‘… but Freydis will have a friend coming over to check on her and I think that I’ll stay till lunch and then go back home, immediately. She’ll let me know if anything bad will happen’.

In the end Ivar’s tone seemed extremely honest and you didn’t feel like mingling in his own relationship’s issues, aware that although you shared a son, you certainly didn’t have any more right to share his life and to know his own private details.

‘I can come and pick you up, if you don’t want to travel alone’ you proposed, although you regretted the words the moment you voiced them, knowing that they broke the second rule you had given yourself that week.

‘Don’t come too close to Ivar’.

No matter what.

And not again.

‘… that’d be nice’ his own voice held surprise and for a moment you almost expected him to reject the idea, insisting on that awfully toxic idea that he was an independent man who needed nobody’s help.

But he surprised you.

‘… I would actually like it, if you aren’t bothered by driving. I can pay for gas’.

‘There is no need for it’ you muttered lightly ‘… you already paid the medical bill this week’.

Which had been great, since you had been able to arrive to another month without adding some further debt to your whole life, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but question yourself and your decision.

Had you been a good mother?

Could have Ivar given Eric more?

‘… well, we’ll see tomorrow’ he commented and you could already picture that small smirk he had on his face in that moment, sure that he’d win also this argument, but not without a fight ‘… in the meanwhile, I’ll go to sleep to wake up tomorrow at 7 a.m. and you can swing in here by 8… or I can come to you…’.

‘I’ll come to you’ you suggested since Ivar’s house was on the road for Aslaug’s house a two hour ride that you had studied alongside other details about how much you remembered of the house and whether it was proper or not to nominate Ragnar in front of the whole family.

Sigurd had helped with a few things, although he had told you he wouldn’t be there on, since he had better things to do, which meant he had small Thanksgiving gig in a bar in the city.

And free alcohol as a payment could be quite convincing.

After receiving all the news of that night, you also should have indulged yourself in a glass of wine.

But you wanted to wake up at a decent hour tomorrow.

With no hangover, again.

In the end you went to check on Eric, finding him effectively asleep, which surprised you since he could be reckless and wouldn’t go to sleep till all his energy was out of his body, and today he had been quite excited to meet his grandma.

He must have taken your suggestion about ‘going to sleep earlier, to make the morning come faster’ seriously, something that made you smirk a bit as you gently moved to collect his crutches left on the floor, gently caressing his dark hair, as you kissed his forehead.

In the end, although your heart was slowly breaking, it was all worth it.

Overthinking comprehended.

---

Ivar had been truly worried about leaving Freydis alone.

Although it seemed more something that he did to avoid others’ judgement than for his own worry.

Almost as if he knew he shouldn’t have left her, and deep down he felt bad about leaving her…

… but it wasn’t for the right motives.

It was guilt, not love, making him act like that.

And he was sure that that should tell him much about his relationship with Freydis.

Lately he had been questioning it, although he knew he was toying a dangerous line, even more when their wedding was so close, since Freydis had chosen to pull it closer since she would have soon been ‘heavy with his child’ and she didn’t want that to ruin the wedding.

He had suggested that they simply postponed to after her pregnancy, but Freydis had literally shot him a murderous glare and he hadn’t said much more than telling her that she wouldn’t have looked ugly even ‘heavy with his child’.

The entire expression had made him uneasy, not solely for the way she had expressed the pregnancy as a negative aspect.

Pregnancy could be difficult on women, since it changed their bodies.

But he was sure she’d look amazingly all full with his child, swollen up and gorgeous, glowing of the pregnancy brightness that would have made her solely pretty.

It had undoubtedly made you gorgeous, from the photos he had seen of your pregnancy.

And he was anxious of staying by her side for such a journey, as he hadn’t been able to do the same with you.

And also the way she pushed on the ‘his child’ part, almost as if she wanted to convince somebody and it had made him nervous, although he tried not to measure every word she had spoken, because it’d drive him mad.

Lately he had been feeling more and more like he had been picking out at every word from Freydis’ mouth.

And not for her own sake, but for his, something that was absolutely awful for an engaged couple and when Freydis’ scare had caught up to him that afternoon he had thought that although it might seem selfish, he needed some time away from her.

Simply to recharge himself and change the mentality he had been having, since he was bringing himself to insanity, judging Freydis in a way that on the long run would have been hurtful.

Even more when she had sacrificed so much to be with him, constantly showing him that she loved him, desperately.

And he thought he felt the same.

But he couldn’t deny that since you and Eric had come back, he had felt the flame of your relationship rekindle, and although at first he had thought it was simply the effect of seeing you again after all this year…

… now he seemed stuck in a limbo.

He had never truly closed the things with you.

Although he had pretended that day of not wanting you anymore, he hadn’t felt in the slightest what his words meant.

It was supposed to be just a stupid dare.

His brothers had been jealous of the close relationships that was forming between you and him, truly impressed by the fact that you two had had sex, and they had dared him, starting from Bjorn, to break up with you for a day.

‘… to see if she suffers, to see if you are… her true love…’ had joked his stepbrother, a lazy smirk on his face, and although Ivar shouldn’t have, at the time he considered his older brother cooler and although he wouldn’t have admitted it to his face, not then and not now…

… he did most of the time what he told him to.

Hvitserk had agreed on the plan, meanwhile both Ubbe and Sigurd had been skeptic, Ubbe eventually joining in, sure that it would have been ‘a fun joke’ and that you would have debunked it immediately, meanwhile Sigurd had just kept to himself, telling Ivar that he was ‘a fucking asshole’ for doing this to you.

And that he’d have suffered greatly for this idiocy.

And he had been right, for once.

After the ‘fake break up’ you had distanced yourself from him, pushing him away in a way that had made him almost self-conscious toward other relationships and when college had rolled around, with a broken heart he had moved away, hoping that the distance would have healed it.

But neither that nor time had brought some relief to him.

He had had his fair share of girls in college: he might have been a prick and a cripple, but money and status clearly brought all the girls to him, but it had never felt like with you.

And he had never felt truly attracted to them.

Something that on the long run had just made him lose his own virility and sex, unable to even simply get it up, no matter the fact that he thought that the girl in bed with him was hot as hell.

She might have been the prettiest woman in the world, but she wasn’t you.

Something that he had never told the sexual therapist he had been seeing for Freydis’ joy, because the doctor would have for sure told him to get back with you, if he wanted an healthy sexual life.

Which wouldn’t happen for sure.

Mostly because you had made it very clear that you would have preferred being thrown in a dumpster than sleep with him.

But he couldn’t deny the thought of not feeling truly comfortable with anybody else, other than him, having you the way he did long ago.

He was jealous of all the imaginary lovers you could have had.

But he justified as simple worry for Eric’s wellbeing.

But he was aware that you wouldn’t have done anything bad for him.

That was why the flame of the past burned bright in his chest.

He had seen you go from a beautiful girl to a gorgeous mother, a journey that echoed on your skin and although you weren’t comfortable in it, like Freydis, you didn’t hide it, showing Eric as your pride and glory.

And he felt the same towards the boy.

He was the sole thing good that he had done.

… alongside Freydis’ baby.

He laid a soft kiss on the slight bump at that thought, meanwhile Freydis gently turned to latch out on him half-awake and half-asleep, as she mumbled a small and chewy ‘… goodmorning’, and Ivar gently moved his nose up her figure, reaching her face, which he peppered in kisses.

It was more a mechanic gesture than a proper one.

But still Freydis didn’t seem to notice the difference, for which he was grateful.

He hoped that a few hours of freedom would make him realize what he had been missing and why Freydis was the one he was supposed to be with.

And not you.

“… I am going, if you think that you are feeling well enough” he mumbled, as he looked at the clock, a quarter past 8, her friend was supposed to be there in a few minutes and he wanted to check on who she was, but Freydis simply nodded her head almost eager to see him gone “… are you sure?”.

He seemed to be not the only that would have enjoyed his freedom.

“Yeah yeah, you overbearing bear” she muttered, almost annoyedly, hiding her face in the pillow, as her long hair spilled on her naked back “… just go, I wouldn’t want mama bear to be worried”.

He grimaced at the veiled insult that Freydis had muttered, but didn’t say anymore, instead gently caressed her hair away, checking her face and her temperature, both seeming healthy, although he was still a bit worried.

If not for Freydis fully, at least for the child she was carrying.

The doctor had assured them that it wasn’t anything wrong.

It was common to bleed through the pregnancy, mostly during stressful periods, which did match with Freydis’ current situation and her crazy wedding planning.

The doctor, himself, had suggested that she took it easy and maybe hired someone to help, and this plan had been explicitly encouraged by Ivar, but she had insisted on doing everything on her own, although she had reassured Ivar that she’d take it with much more calm.

“… isn’t your friend supposed to be here already?” he muttered softly, not wanting to leave her alone, but knowing that in a few minutes you’d be there, since your anxious personality always made you arrive a bit earlier.

Freydis shook lightly her head, and turned to him, again sleepy with her lids hazily closed as a hand came to her chest.

“… my mom is coming, just give her time!” she replied, stretching on the empty bed, but Ivar couldn’t help but hear intensified her words, surprised that Freydis had called her mother, truly, when she had said a ‘friend’.

“… your mom?” he asked, unsure if he had heard right “… I thought… you said a friend”.

Freydis bit her lip and Ivar immediately noticed the gesture, unable to feel like it was a gesture that his fiancée did whenever she was nervous.

And it was starting to happen more and more.

And he was starting to have his doubts.

“No no” she mumbled, slightly pushing herself to have her back against the plush headboard of their shared bed “… I must have been so tired that I mixed up the names… sorry… it is my mom”.

“I thought you didn’t like your family” he could feel the way she was starting to feel more and more nervous with his comment that hid questions, but at the same time she hadn’t been very talkative in the family department and he had just assumed she didn’t like them.

Again, that lip-biting and a little look at her phone, with shone with a number appearing on it, and under it the name ‘mom’.

… Gosh, he was low key losing it.

“I just… I just thought that I might want to be closer to them, at least for the baby” she explained softly, her voice thoughtful as she took a deep breath “… my mom wasn’t that bad, also, I just… grew distant after I went to college”.

Which made sense.

And maybe Ivar was becoming quite more suspicious for something that was completely harmless.

… he was just overthinking the entire situation.

Trying to find faults, when it wasn’t Freydis’ in the slightest.

“… still I’d like to know your mother” he knew better than to come between a child and a mother, but he would have preferred to know her before allowing her near his child, although Freydis trusted her “… invite her over for tonight, we’ll have a small dinner with together, to celebrate and to thank her for staying with you”.

He didn’t want to prod more and Freydis’ face rewarded him with a small smile as she brought him for a long, long goodbye kiss, that not even the notification of a message in his phone, probably from you, stopped her from ending.

He kissed her one last time, and then left her grabbing quickly his travel bag since he had a few things to bring to his mother, a few toys he had brought as a gift to Eric and even a small gift card for you, although he knew that there was no true occasion.

But he felt like it was a nice gesture.

He checked the message as he closed the door behind himself, realizing that it was indeed you, assuring that you were early and would be waiting for him outside, Eric having also stolen the phone from you to send him a photo of himself.

And Ivar snapped one of himself, as he grabbed onto the crutch he had for emergencies, although he didn’t use it too much, but his mother would have gotten an heart-attack if she hadn’t seen him with a crutch, at least.

No matter the fact that she stored a lot more in their house.

And at the start of the week she had even gone as far as to ask whether she had to get some for Eric, for you know… emergencies and such.

‘… Ivar, I am serious!’ she had protested once, when Ivar had started laughing at her worried tone on the phone ‘… I want that sweet boy to be at the most ease, in my house’.

‘Mom, (Y/N) will probably bring crutches if he needs it and you buying some would only make her even more nervous. And let me tell you: she is already terrified by you’ he had explained, because although his mother was important for him, he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with her.

And neither he wanted Freydis to be.

Although, unlike with you, there wasn’t much that could be done with Freydis, since both the women had closed off the option of a possible relationship between each other, which made it difficult to even feel something for the other.

You, instead, had always wanted to be loved.

You cared too much for people’s opinion, no matter the fact that sometimes you just couldn’t be liked by everyone.

And he couldn’t help but to think that was probably how your friendship had started back then.

He made you wait just a few more minutes, moving in your car, although he noted to himself that had he ever had trouble choosing a Christmas gift for you, he should have definitely gone with a new vehicle, since the poor thing you drove looked ready to kill itself from any moment.

He sat behind with Eric, to have more space for his legs and be more comfortable, as you pushed forward the car seat to allow him more space, meanwhile Eric saluted him from the car booster seat, smiling as Ivar moved to kiss his forehead, as you checked from the front mirror.

“… do you have everything you need?” you asked, softly, meanwhile you tried to start up the car and for a moment Ivar thought of suggesting you took his car, although he knew that it might have been difficult to use since it was set up for his needs.

“Yeah, don’t worry” he replied, as he adjusted himself, pushing the safety belt to click in its place “… is everything alright with you, two?”.

“Oh yeah, Eric is literally the most excited about today” and although you maintained a cheerful tone, it was obvious that you were nervous, although your eyes were hidden by sunglasses “… he woke me up at 6 a.m.”.

And now he understood the need for the sunglasses.

Eric clapped his hands, unable to stop himself from giggling loudly, and Ivar couldn’t help but find it adorable gently mimicking him much to your grimace.

But a light smirk appeared on your face as you pushed yourself away from the parking lot, setting up the map on your phone.

“Can we put music on, mom?” asked Eric, who looked like he could have fought anybody off, in that same moment “… please, please, pleeeeaseee”.

“Ok ok” you mumbled, before shooting a look at Ivar “… if your dad doesn’t mind”.

It felt strange, the way you said it.

For once you hadn’t called him Ivar and neither ‘he’, but ‘your dad’ almost as if you had recognized his role in Eric’s life.

Which wasn’t an easy and quick feat.

And he appreciated it.

“I don’t think I have much choice” he muttered softly, as he shot you a quick look, seeing your reaction on the mirror of the car, again that soft smile, barely there, but it was there.

“… truly, when you are a parent, you have none”.

---

The trip had been quiet.

Although Eric had moved himself around at the beat of the music for a few minutes, he had eventually drifted off to sleep and neither you nor Ivar had had the heart to wake him up, instead drifting off in a mindless chatter between you two, meanwhile you driver to your destination.

You had also confessed him that you, yourself, had had some problematic bleeding during your time with Eric, telling him that it was natural and that rest in most cases was the best way to go.

And Ivar explained to you that she’d have her mother over, some kind of dubiousness in his words, but again you didn’t dare sticking your nose in his thoughts and problems, instead telling him that during pregnancy you had indeed grown closer to your mother.

A lump in your throat appeared as you thought about your father instead.

It seemed that the women of your family were cursed with men that wouldn’t simply stick.

But meanwhile Ivar was doing his best to be there for his son, your father had left once it had gotten hard, pushing you and Eric away, something that made you a bit sad, and you were almost glad for Ivar’s comfortable presence.

You might have felt uncomfortable for the crush you had been harboring for him, but some things had never changed and the complicity you had always shared had remained and you were thankful for it, now that both your souls had grown quieter and reconciled.

Ivar guided you to his past house, although you had memorized the road when you were ten and could have still reached it blindly.

But you let Ivar think that you had forgotten some things.

Once you were set up in the free parking lot, having arrived first, Ivar woke up softly Eric a gesture that made your heart clench a bit, because although Ivar wasn’t known for being the most emotional man you knew, he was just so gentle with his son.

And the sole thought of it, somehow, hurt you.

You got out of the car, asking Ivar if he could buckle up Eric back in his braces, as you got the few things out of the car to be able to lose as little of time as you could.

Ivar did it quickly, meanwhile Eric still clang on him, half asleep, making you smirk softly, steadying himself against your pants, as Ivar grabbed his travel bag and you your own trolley, spending a few extra minutes to lock the car.

Because you were extremely nervous.

Although you had no reason to be.

Aslaug didn’t need to examine you, as a girlfriend or as a mother.

But you still… felt uneasy at the thought of disappointing her.

And Ivar noticed it.

He gently pushed his hand onto your back, not too close to be truly intimate neither too strong to be possessive, but it was calming and you shot him back a slight thankful smile, as Eric, again shy, hid behind you both, leaning on your trolley.

And then Ivar rang the door.

And before you could say anything to comfort Eric and yourself, the door was opened.

It revealed a graceful woman, in an elegant set of comfortable clothes, a pair of pastel sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt, something that you hadn’t thought you had ever seen the prim and proper woman wear.

But that wasn’t the sole surprise.

She obviously immediately focused her eyes on Ivar and you were glad of it, although it was almost awkward to stand there, but you endured it gladly, happy not to have the attention on you.

Which didn’t last.

Because once she got up from hugging Ivar, she moved her attention towards you and you were also enveloped in a tight hug, the entire gesture contrasting so much with her ice queen persona that you remembered that it sent you in sensory overload.

And you were glad that it finished pretty quickly, making you smile at the woman as she softly saluted you.

‘… oh gods, it has been so so long since I last saw you” she commented softly, shooting you a quick look “… and you look like not a single day has passed”.

“You also do look the same” you replied tightly, surprised by her warm personality, but soon Aslaug’s attention shifted away from you and onto Eric, hiding himself behind you both, as the older woman crunched down to be at eye-level with Eric.

“… and who is this handsome young man?” she asked with a soft smile, as Eric gained a bit of confidence with all those compliments, moving forward and holding out an hand for Aslaug, as you had told him to do.

The older woman, already on the verge of a crying attack, accepted it welcomingly, commenting how much he looked like his father as a baby.

‘… but you do seem much nicer’ she joked, as she gently lead him inside, checking with you if you were comfortable, to which you nodded, because although you had been unsure about all of this, you couldn’t help but be sweetened up by Aslaug’s soft gestures.

Ivar shot you an amused look as he moved inside, pushing the travel bag to sling over his shoulders, so that it wouldn’t annoy him with his braces, as you moved inside.

As soon as you were inside a storm of memories caught you, unable to truly ever forget the many things that had happened there, the many adventures that you had gone through thanks to the Lothbrocks.

And although there were many things you regretted…

… this wasn’t one of those.

“… it didn’t change in the slightest” you breathed out, as you took in the vintage furniture, matched with pastel fabrics that made it seem like a mixture between an haunted house and a magical castle.

“Mom wouldn’t agree” commented Ivar as you both reached the cloakroom to deposit your coats and to leave there your luggage “… she says that everything has changed since we have gone away”.

“Don’t make me think about it!” you muttered, shooting an ironic look at the roof, meanwhile Ivar giggled with overexaggerated annoyance.

“He is only five!” he reminded you, and you shot back a glare that told him ‘he just wouldn’t understand’ “… you, moms, are all the same: overthinking everything and everyone”.

“Don’t even try to talk ‘momma’s boy’ “you taunted him, and again you were right in between that friendship and that crush stadiums of your relationships that made moments like this irresistible and the most difficult for you.

“… my lips are sealed” muttered gingerly Ivar, although he moved to distance himself from you, clearly showing his uneasiness to this, something for which you were grateful.

And you both moved to the kitchen where Aslaug had brought Eric, making sure that he did a second breakfast in full fashion, completely spoiling his child and looking at him with a curiosity that made it seem like she was examining a strange animal.

You had had a small talk with Eric to explain him who Aslaug was and how to behave with her, promoting a more rigid behavior, that might have been not what was proper actually for the welcoming they had received.

“… I hope you didn’t mind that I gave him something” and with ‘something’ she probably meant half of the food in her kitchen “… I am used to my boys being quite hungry”.

You tried not to grimace at the ‘my boys’, but still chastised Eric a bit, not wanting to deny him the food he needed, but if he ate all those things not only he would have been on a sugar high by this afternoon, but he also might have not eaten anything at Thanksgiving lunch.

And yet you noticed the unsure look on Aslaug’s face, reminding you one of your own when you had been the young girl, waiting for her examination.

And although you knew it wasn’t proper, you almost snickered with yourself for it.

“… don’t worry” you simply commented, dabbing almost possessively Eric’s lips, trying to gain some control back, as you showed Aslaug that although you appreciated her concern and gentleness, you were Eric’s mother.

And she seemed to understand it as she distanced herself lightly, focusing her attention on her son.

And noticing solely now that Freydis was indeed missing.

‘Where is she?’ she asked, with a light scrunching of her eyebrows, which you recognized as ‘the look of disappointment’ otherwise known as the ‘I am judging you’ face.

And for a moment you didn’t want to be in Freydis’ place.

“She has had some problem with the pregnancy” immediately Aslaug’s eyes tightened on him, evidently worried “… she has been bleeding a bit, and although the doctor has told us that it isn’t anything worrying, he said to avoid stress”.

And facing a mother-in-law like Aslaug could be quite stressful.

So, you didn’t blame her.

“… and why aren’t you with her?” her voice was slightly lowered, not to be heard by a rather disinterested Eric, his gaze focused on trying to steal a few more handmade cookies, which you tried out for yourself, and you had to say that Aslaug certainly hadn’t lost her touch.

And you hoped they weren’t poisoned.

“Mom…” Ivar’s voice was indeed a bit annoyed “… she insisted about remaining home and I didn’t leave her alone, she is with her mom”.

This comforted you and Aslaug, honestly, as the woman moved her gaze onto Eric, who had finally shifted his focus on his grandma, suddenly having woken up fully from the food and tiredness nap he had been having.

“… so… you are my other grandma?”.

You were tempted to almost facepalm yourself, because if Eric had inherited one bad trait from Ivar it was his uneasy bluntness and you couldn’t help but blush a bit, almost worried of Aslaug’s reaction.

She had recognized your role as a mother, and she had even hugged you.

And then your child went like and literally called her ‘his other grandma’.

She was probably already questioning your parenting skills and…

… and she started laughing, loudly.

And you and Ivar soon joined, Ivar more truly than you, who croaked almost as a newborn bird, meanwhile Eric looked at you all, as if the inside joke you had said wasn’t funny and he wasn’t getting it, till Aslaug softly moved an hand towards his smaller one and muttered softly.

“Yes, sweetheart” she muttered softly, as she reached out to straighten up his hair, as he brought them away “… I am grandma, Aslaug”.

“Oh, that is a cool name!” Eric chanted, looking with bright eyes at your grandma “… like the name of the princess Ragnar marries!”

Not even the mention of Ragnar was enough to make a soft smile disappear from Aslaug’s face, as she did nod and confirm that ‘it was the same name indeed’, before she shot you a quick laugh, embarrassment written on her face.

And insecurities.

You encouraged her with a soft smile, and she asked you whether she could play a bit with Eric, outside.

‘It shouldn’t be too cold’ she explained ‘… and don’t worry… I have set up a small table and a few things for him…’.

You couldn’t help but be extremely warmed up by the way Aslaug seemed to already care for Eric, although your uneasiness was still there, constantly worried that these people might leave Eric’s life, leaving him heartbroken.

But you also knew that although Aslaug was an ice queen, she was truthful in every little gesture of her.

And when she swore, she meant it.

Ivar had definitely taken that after her.

‘Mom can I go?’ insisted Eric, shooting you a deep look, as you moved to lay a soft kiss on his forehead, before you allowed them both to go outside, sending him a light smirk as Aslaug smiled at you gratefully.

‘… just wear a jacket and an hat!’.

Ivar who had watched carefully the scene, laughed again at your worry, but you caught the way he attentively looked outside to make sure that everything was indeed Eric-proofed, although he shouldn’t have doubted his mother.

Since she had been through that with her own son.

You wondered whether she was so immediately attracted by Eric because of the similarity with Ivar.

But you didn’t have too much time to mind to these things, because suddenly there was a ring to the door and your small safe haven was becoming a crowded family function.

Shit, you were nervous again.

Ivar’s brothers now did know that you and Ivar had a child together.

He had told them after you had agreed to be there on Thanksgiving day, and he had taken it upon himself to contact them to give them the news, since you had both agreed that it would have been awkward to discover it in that moment.

Although you honestly hoped you could keep that secret for a bit more.

You weren’t ashamed of Eric or of having Ivar back in your life, although it was simply as a co-parent to your five-year-old, but you knew perfectly that Ivar’s brothers had always had a certain image of you.

An image that even after all this bullshit you felt like you had to upheld.

And you couldn’t, anymore.

And you hadn’t ever told this to Ivar, when you were together, but you hadn’t ever felt truly comfortable with his brothers.

Hvitserk was okay, although he was a bit too flirty for you, but he had taken the hint once you had threatened him of cutting his ‘beloved friends’ off and Sigurd was nice, although he could be twice as childish as Ivar, sending you the demo of many of his songs, expecting you to listen to them in a few minutes.

But they were ok.

You did dislike Ubbe, since you couldn’t help but feel at unease with him, although he was the calmer of the brothers, but you couldn’t help but think about the infamous ‘look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it’ phrase.

Although you didn’t personally know much, since you had moved away, you had heard many rumors about him, and his numerous affairs, ending up his marriage with Margrethe, ruining the poor girl, and ending up marrying his brother’s wife.

If this wasn’t a scandal straight from a telenovela, you didn’t know what to call it.

But who you truly disliked was Bjorn.

He was the older son and thankfully he was their stepbrother, so he wasn’t around much time.

He had quite some toxic behaviors, starting from being a serial cheater and not a believer in monogamy, going on with the fact that he left whenever it got too hard, and although he wouldn’t be there for that lunch (which was a relief) you still didn’t like his presence.

And you secretly, not so much, hoped not to meet him.

He had been the most against your relationship with Ivar.

He had been constantly telling Ivar that he was losing out on being in a relationship at his age, but Ivar hadn’t cared much for his words, although you knew that he looked up at Bjorn almost like an hawk as if in that way he could steal his place as Ragnar’s heir.

But back in the time you hadn’t said much.

Ivar’s relationship with his brothers was already broken up by jealousy and the typical emotional angst, so you hadn’t wanted to add much more.

But now… having to face both Hvitserk and Ubbe, who brought Torvi with himself, they made you bit your tongue both for anxiety…

… and both to keep inside your words.

You felt a stranger left in the kitchen as Ivar opened the door, welcomed them inside with snarky remarks and sarcastic comebacks, but you could almost smell their interest and curiosity for you.

Ivar had told you they had taken the news well, but Sigurd had told you that both Ubbe and Bjorn had freaked out terribly in the chat, muttering things about your child and about the fact that Ivar was ‘stupid’ for taking it in so easily, without testing yourds.

Hvitserk had been the only one welcoming it, already muttering all the things he’d teach your child as his ‘favorite uncle’.

If Ubbe and Bjorn kept on acting like that, he and Sigurd would have soon been Eric’s sole uncles.

You wouldn’t have let your child grow up in such a disrespect.

You understood their uneasiness at your revelation, but you had expected some more confidence, because although you hadn’t been friends, truly, you had grown up together.

And Ubbe, himself, shouldn’t have muttered much after he had adopted the sons of another man, after he had ‘stolen’ away his bride.

Was there something truly different in what he had done and in what Ivar was doing with Eric?

But you reigned in your sourness, welcoming them inside the kitchen with a smile.

And for the first time in his life, Hvitserk moved to you immediately, ignoring completely the sweet treats on the table, laid out solely for his enjoyment, since Eric and Aslaug, the only one who would have dared to stop him, were outside, overlooked from the windows of the kitchen by Ivar.

He hugged you so tightly that he swung you off the chair you were comfortably sat on, making you giggle at his affectionate antics, before he hounded you to know where ‘his little nephew was’.

“… Gosh, I still can’t believe that Ivar was the one to forget about the condom rule, among all of us” now you were definitely embarrassed and Ivar shot an annoyed look at him, telling him to back off “… but I am glad that you are back here!”.

“Apparently I couldn’t run away that far” you commented, meaning for it to be ironical, but there was some truth behind it, and Ivar noticed it, his eyes growing a bit darker, as Hvitserk’s attention finally caught the cookies on the table.

And you were left dealing with Torvi and Ubbe.

The woman presented herself to you, since you didn’t know her if not from what you had heard from Ivar and Sigurd.

She was quite nice with you, at least being polite and gentle, and Ubbe was simply nice, something in his straight and tight pose making it difficult for you to feel relaxed and not awkward.

But still… you survived it.

And were glad to simply settle back in the background noise, meanwhile the brotherly chatter began, and you moved to Ivar’s side by the windows, noticing that Aslaug was trying to teach Eric some gardening.

‘She will get along quickly with my mom’ you muttered ‘… she works with a florist these days’.

“She has taken to gardening after we all went away…” there was something almost nostalgic in his voice “… as with yoga, pilates and a few hundred other hobbies… she always wonder why we are so restless and she blames it onto Ragnar, but the truth is…”

Now a proud smile lighted up Ivar’s gorgeous face, showing you the growth that he had gone through in those years where you hadn’t seen each other.

“… the truth is that she has a wild streak in herself”.

You were surprised by the door opening one more time, signaling that another guest had been welcomed, a guest you hadn’t expected as everyone else in the room.

The awkward silence intensifying in the room, as Ragnar walked in.

A grimace on his face as if he hadn’t expected everyone to look at him like an annoying mosquito, something that was quite evident in both his eldest and his youngest, meanwhile Hvitserk was still focused on the cookies.

Which you did also.

You were definitely much more uncomfortable now, but at the same time you felt  a bit unrelated to all this family drama, glad when Aslaug walked in, to make Eric wash his hands, evidently having noticed that quite some time had already passed.

She noticed Ragnar and concealed quite well the surprise in her eyes, simply muttering a few orders at her children, meanwhile Eric ran to you, and you tried to isolate yourself asking him what he had been doing and what Aslaug had taught him.

Ivar also came closer, crouching down at his side, and that was what caught Ragnar’s eyes as he noticed the small family that had formed before his eyes, after he had exchanged a few unpleasant and rigid comments with his sons.

“… I thought you were with blondie” the comment was insensitive on so many aspects.

But when had Ragnar ever been attentive with Ivar?

Aslaug had smothered him, and Ragnar had tried, the few time he was in his life, to reverse the whole project with a steely discipline and a barely concealed disdain for Ivar’s disability.

“… none of your business, dad” Ivar muttered, pointing out each word, as you gently tried to lead Eric away from the confrontation that was soon to erupt, Aslaug noticing it and taking you with her, to find a vase for the flowers she and Eric had picked.

And you exchanged a soft smile with her, thankful for the distraction.

And as Eric roamed for the storage room, under your watchful eyes, choosing a proper vase, you muttered a gentle ‘thank you’.

‘… I…’ the words burned on Aslaug’s tongue, and you definitely felt like that was another thing Ivar had for sure inherited by her “… think I am the one who should say ‘thank you’ this time, this time, actually… and sorry”.

You were surprised but didn’t try to stop that discourse.

“… I didn’t mean to be horrid to you” she explained “… I never… thought you were, I actually was just worried about Ivar’s heart… although it wasn’t… my business”.

“I…” you knew that you should have said something like ‘don’t worry’ or ‘it isn’t a problem’, but you just felt like hiding behind pretty words wouldn’t have helped you, even more in this situation with Aslaug “… apologies accepted”.

She smiled brightly at you.

“… I know… that this isn’t a proper situation and Ivar and you have much more to discuss, but…” her mutter was almost the one of a scared child “… I’d like to be present in Eric’s life, if you ever need an help… I do know of your mother…”.

“I hope not to sound rude, but…” your tone was light and at the same time heavy “… it is just… I need a bit of time. I handled this alone, with only my mom on my side for so long, and now it is just strange to have all these people around you…”.

Aslaug nodded, although she wasn’t able to shed the sadness from her face.

But then you reached out for her hand.

“… but with time, I do hope to let you in” you softened your tone “… Eric needs his family with him”.

And she smiled the absolute brightest, right as Eric came back with the biggest vase.

“Can we use this?!”.

---

Ivar had always loved Ragnar, as a child.

He had seen him as his own hero, the sole he could relate to and the sole he could trust, but moving on with years and Ragnar’s numerous disappearances, the love and admiration had become distrust and hate.

For a father that had never wanted him.

But Ragnar still had his own influence on him.

Starting from the fact that for a long time children had been a very touchy subject for him and one more reason why he had chosen the fertilization in vitro.

To avoid his children developing any pathologies, like him.

Ragnar had wanted Aslaug to abort him.

It was a truth that Ivar had learned when he was fourteen, hormones full blown and annoyed at everything, once overhearing one of the many fights going on between Ragnar and Aslaug.

Since he was ten year old, Ragnar used his mother’s house as an hotel, constantly checking in and out, maybe playing with his sons for a little time, but many other times he’d tell them his magical journeys and stories.

And most of the time, it’d end up with Ragnar screaming at Aslaug.

And her screaming back at him.

Once, when they had gotten quite heated, mostly because Aslaug had told him that she was tired of taking care of his child with no help form him whatsoever, Ragnar had shot back that maybe she should have aborted Ivar when she had the time.

And Ivar, ‘Ivar The Boneless’, as his brothers always nicknamed him, had cried for an entire afternoon, after hearing that.

But this hadn’t shattered Ivar’s heart, not yet.

He had followed his father as a puppy, and he remembered the way many fights had erupted between you two for that, because of Ivar’s faithful behavior to somebody who didn’t deserve it.

Going to college and distancing himself from both his parents, he had learned that what you had complained about had been true, and his relationship with his father had been much more distanced, although he worked in the family business.

But he was trying to form his own legacy.

Hence Ragnar’s presence just brought him back in the past.

And he hated the feeling of being inferior that he felt.

He had been feeling so well, with the knowledge of yours and Aslaug’s relationship, mending as he noticed the desperate happiness in his mother’s eyes at finally meeting her first grandchild.

… he was indeed having a good time, without overthinking the whole ‘Freydis-You-Eric’ situation but now another thing was added to that dangerous math.

“Isn’t she…” Ragnar scratched the back of his head, as if it helped with remembering “… your old best friend? And how old is the child? Did you seriously hide a child for so long?”.

His tone was joking, but strangely arrogant and Ivar wondered if Heahmund felt that way when Ivar spoke to him.

… maybe he should have apologized.

Because he was extremely annoyed by Ragnar’s behavior.

“Which part of ‘none of your business’ don’t you understand?” he shot back, and Ragnar seemed seriously hit, his movements a bit slowed down probably from the few shots of tequila he had taken before coming here.

“I am just… I am…” the words weren’t slurred, but he was fully drunk, although his chain of reason seemed quite clouded by whatever he had taken “… you are my children you are my business”.

He shot a small look at all ‘his children’ in the room, trying to regain some sympathy but it wasn’t much useful, since they all were on Ivar’s side for once.

Both Hvitserk and Ubbe were neutral to his father, but this didn’t mean that they would have ever taken his side, even more as grown-ups.

“… we stopped being your business, after we were five and I got chicken pox and you were on the other part of the world, screwing somebody, meanwhile mom took care of four children all by herself” commented Hvitserk, something that definitely put Ragnar in great unease, not knowing how to react at that.

Not that he had to, since his son returned to eating, but it was clear that there was a quite some distance between him and his sons.

And Ivar didn’t like his presence even more, because he didn’t want Ragnar around Eric and neither did you, since you hadn’t known about it, having been assured that he wouldn’t be there.

But his father always found ways back to them.

His mother had never been able to fully delete him from their life and neither she had tried to delete him fully, at least for the sake of their children, and he couldn’t make it a fault to her, but he hoped his father would just take a hint.

“… I just… I just wanted a nice Thanksgiving” commented Ragnar, raising his hands as if to surrender anything he might have wanted “… with my family”.

And nobody could deny it.

Although they could make it true hell for him.

In the end the brothers decided to keep to themselves as Ragnar stood in the middle of the room rather awkwardly, meanwhile you and Aslaug returned in that moment with a vase that was bigger than Eric, the small boy trumping happily between the two women, as Aslaug and you shared a few interesting botanical facts.

He wished he could see the same happening with Freydis.

But he tried to make his thoughts quiet, not truly knowing how to deal with Eric and Ragnar, so for now he just tried to act the best way possible, meanwhile he helped ‘his little man’ with the vase.

“… no no, Dad! I am strong like Thor!” protested loudly Eric, but you did send Ivar a look as if to say ‘do check on him’, meanwhile Aslaug adjusted the flowers, the other brothers quickly finding excuses to disperse from the kitchen: Hvitserk going to the bathroom and Ubbe and Torvi going to his old room, so that they could do a few calls.

He had hoped Ragnar would get a hint too, but he didn’t.

And he came close to Eric, as the child sat down to help his grandma and you, your eyes immediately trained on Ragnar, who sent you a small smile, probably not recognizing you fully, although he had indeed recognized you as Ivar’s ‘best friend’.

You didn’t look definitely happy to see Ragnar, but you didn’t let it be seen on your face, although you were attentive with the way Ragnar moved closer to your son.

Because he wasn’t certainly an idiot, and he must have done the math to realize that the child was Ivar’s, no matter the amount of alcohol and drugs that he had put in his system to numb it.

“… hi” he muttered, as he came to Eric’s side, the boy’s eyes suddenly moving onto him, as he shot you a surprised look, again shyness in his eyes and Aslaug chastised Ragnar with a warning smile.

“Hi” replied Eric, as he turned to him, after you had lightly nodded, but still putting an hand on the back of your child, as Ivar came to your side, something that made you send him a soft thankful smile.

He couldn’t help but feel something deep inside him fall in love again with that smile.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked, as Eric shook his head, and Ragnar sent a look at Ivar, who sent one to you.

He hadn’t meant to make you live this situation, knowing perfectly well how much this would have made you nervous, because for sure you hadn’t expected to be surrounded by so many people and not only because he did remember that you were an introvert…

… but it must have been a big change to go from nobody knowing anything to everybody knowing about ‘your dirty little secret’.

But you decided to do your best to make something good out of an awful situation.

And you invited Ragnar to explain it to him, with a small look, that spoke the words ‘don’t fuck it up’.

“… I am your grandpa” commented the man, as Eric’s eyes became bright like stars, as he clapped his hands, strongly.

“Grandpa!” he called him excitedly “… do you want to come with me to my soccer games?”.

The question was so innocent and adorable that even Ragnar cracked up a tender smile as he nodded your hand, although he could totally feel you grimace at that, but you gave Eric your best smile, as Aslaug suggested that she got the vase set up, and you helped Eric washed his hands properly.

Effectively leaving Ivar and Ragnar alone.

You shot him a small look to check with him, before joining after Eric, and he wasn’t able to stop himself from thinking about the past and about how your constant support had meant so much for you.

And he had been stupid enough to take it for granted.

“Where did that one plop off?” commented loudly Ragnar, once you all were out of earshot, making Ivar grimace and for a minute he thought that he could have just ignored him and hoped he’d just ‘magically’ disappear.

Since he was so good at that.

But if Ivar had inherited something from him was that shit-eating attitude that would have stopped him from backing off and relenting, even when it was clear he had lost.

“… I discovered about him a few months ago” explained Ivar, trusting the fact that Ragnar wasn’t truly listening.

That he wasn’t truly interested in what he had to say.

Ragnar was only interested in what he, himself, had to say.

“… (Y/N), his mother, didn’t let me know about his existence till I found out, because she was sure I didn’t want him in my life…” which was strangely what had been happening with him in his family, so he couldn’t blame you truly for having had that thought “… turns out she was wrong”.

“So, you took him in” he spoke of Eric almost as if it was a charity case and Ivar had to hold back the rage in him “… that’s a good action, son”.

“I am trying to avoid becoming like you” he commented, a sneak attack at Ragnar who showed the sufferance of it but stabilized quickly “… abandoning the children that I fathered as if they were simple trash”.

“… but is this true?” he shot back, letting out an amused breath “… because I do think that you are following in my footsteps perfectly”.

“No, I am not” he ground out his teeth as he growled out the words.

“Then where is the pretty blonde I saw the last time?” Ragnar asked loudly “… and I don’t think that you are married with the mother of your child…  so, I do think that you are handling them both… unsure of what to do”.

And this was damnably true.

“You know nothing” it was stupid, but he hoped it’d shut up the entire situation, because it was making him feel just worse.

Would he seriously end up like his father?

Old and with a myriad of problems?

He hoped not to.

He had wanted to become bigger than him, in his job, but he had also wanted to become better than him, family-wise, that was the reason behind his choice of Freydis.

Why he had let himself be convinced so easily in what sounded like the fairytale life.

But was it truly?

Even more when he felt so perfectly with you and Eric.

“… but I do” it was barely a whisper.

But Ivar didn’t have a good enough reply for that.

---

Ragnar’s appearance at the Thanksgiving lunch had undoubtedly put a bit of a damper on your mood, but you tried your best to take care of Eric, letting the baby interact with his grandpa.

Eric missed greatly your father and his grandfather.

Your grandfather had been extremely attached to Eric, and his disappearance had been so sudden that Eric had simply thought, for a whole week after he had run away, that he’d be back soon.

He had just gone on a trip.

And when the knowledge he wouldn’t have come back had settled in, Eric had grown much more silent, and he had kept this behavior till he had met again Ivar, developing again his cheery personality, for which you were thankful.

But at the same time, it made you worried.

And although Ragnar had been gentle with Eric, you didn’t exactly want him around your child, had his tendency to disappear kept on being present in his tumultuous soul.

Eric had had enough instability in his life, and you didn’t want to add much more.

But you had bigger problems at hand.

Hvitserk had been introduced to Eric and he kept on trying to teach him some dirty limericks, much to your, Aslaug’s and Ivar’s annoyance, who all shot him an annoyed glare.

But you were glad that Eric was having fun with his uncle and you were even gladder by the soft-spoken approach Hvitserk had been having about it, completely treating the situation as if it was completely normal.

Unlike Ubbe who kept on shooting attentive glances at the child.

But you ignored it, in favor of having a few chats with Aslaug and Torvi.

In the end, by the time the lunch was ready, you were definitely much more comfortable and although you tried to keep your bigger emotions at bay, you almost felt… involved in the family.

And you were unsure if it was a good thing or not.

You were glad for that environment for Eric, who was definitely at ease and happy.

You hoped you could keep the same thing up after Freydis had her own child, something that put you a bit at unease, not wanting to push yourself in a situation where you didn’t belong, knowing perfectly well how much care a newborn baby required from both parents…

… and although Ivar was handling quite well the situation…

… you hoped the new baby wouldn’t have been leading Ivar away from Eric, when they were both that close.

Although it was a selfish thought.

But for now, you tried to push away those awful thoughts.

And enjoyed the moment.

By lunchtime Eric had already gotten a few new toys by Ivar, something that had made you quirk a brow at the man himself, but he had just smirked slightly as if to say ‘what can I do about it’.

Well, if Eric was going to grow up as a spoiled brat, he’d have had to do something.

But for now, you enjoyed seeing your beloved Eric all happy and playful.

Aslaug was nice also, certainly having grown quite close to the child, although not much time had passed, but you had smiled with pride, as she had complimented you for the amazing education he had received…

‘… unlike somebody else’ she had muttered looking at her children: Ubbe on his phone, Hvitserk with something stuck in his mouth and Ivar trying to figure out a lego castle for his son ‘… I swear I tried my best’.

‘I do believe it’ you shot back, with a small smile.

Also Aslaug tried her best to avoid talking about Ragnar or with him, and he on his part did his best to avoid both her and Ivar, moving onto the sofa, as he watched a game, soon joined by Hvitserk.

Eric instead helped Aslaug out after the lunch, bringing her dishes from the table to the kitchen sink, although he barely reached the table, helped by you and Ivar.

‘The portrait of a family’ commented tightly Ragnar, something that put you and Ivar through a lot of uneasy embarrass, but you handled it at your best for the wellness of your mental health.

As you all settled down for a small and calm after lunch coffee, the food having lessened the differences among each other soon you found yourself dozing off, happily, on the sofa.

Lately you had been doing a lot of night shifts at the art gallery, because they were better paid and you felt more comfortable being able to take care of Eric in the afternoon, so you could help him with homework and bring him to soccer practice and doctor appointments.

You must have simply closed your eyes for moment just to wake up when you felt tiny fists hitting lightly your stomach and opened your eyes to find a rather happy Eric, blowing in your face to push your hair away.

And outside it was utter and fully dark.

Shit.

You looked all around yourself immediately seeing that you weren’t on the sofa anymore, and you had been tucked in what you remembered being Ivar’s old bedroom.

You couldn’t help but be worried sick, immediately checking your watch and discovering it was already 7 p.m.

You had slept for four hours.

Which would have been reasonable, hadn’t you basically fallen asleep at your ex’ house, when you had promised to bring him back to his pretty wife right after lunch.

You couldn’t help but have this feeling of having basically fucked up everything.

And Eric kept on jumping on the bed.

“… sweetie” you called out to him, realizing that if you had been napping all this time he had had the time to replenish himself of sugar and would end up probably breaking his brakes if he kept on jumping in that way “… where is your father?”.

“Dad is downstairs” explained Eric, as you gently grabbed him on his waist to calm him down and bring him an hug, indulging a moment more enjoying the warmth of that soft body and the smell of light sweat and cuddles that Eric always had on his clothes.

Before his words truly registered.

And you realized Ivar hadn’t gone back.

To his very pregnant wife.

Because of you.

As soon as you managed to settle down Eric and make him move after you, you descended downstairs, to catch he Lothbrocks in what looked like a challenge of GTA.

All the brothers were playing, cursing lightly at each other, meanwhile Aslaug glared at them for those curses and Ragnar cheered them on, with a beer in his hand.

It almost seemed a normal family.

And then immediately their attention was onto you, as Eric loudly chased after you, his brakes stumping against the soft moquette of the house, as you noticed he wasn’t wearing shoes, Aslaug catching your gaze and explaining to you:

‘He seemed uncomfortable and I thought he’d feel better without shoes…’ she set you a small look ‘… I hope you didn’t mind it’.

‘No no, if you don’t’ you spoke back, before you sent Ivar a pleading look, and he abandoned the newest round of the game, among brotherly insults, as Hvitserk slapped his ass, and Eric had a quite gleaming look at that gesture, making you send him a glare.

You expected Ivar to be angry.

He was always angry when things didn’t go the way he wanted.

He was a perfectionist in each thing, even more in his own plans.

But Ivar simply looked at you softly, as you hurriedly moved to explain that you could still make it time for you to arrive at 9 p.m. back in the city and to please apologize to Freydis for your accidental…

‘Hey… don’t worry’ because as much as he hadn’t changed from the perfectionist he was, you continued on stumbling on your own words whenever you were nervous, as you did back in the time ‘… I have actually asked mom if you could stay here in the guest room with Eric. I don’t want you to drive with this tiredness’.

‘I slept, I am completely energized’ you replied loudly and then yawned ruining completely the effect of your words, and earning a soft raised eyebrow from Ivar ‘… and I wouldn’t want to bother… Aslaug was already nice enough to have me for lunch…’.

‘… she doesn’t mind, and she prefer to have me safe on the road’ he explained ‘… Freydis also said the same’.

‘Gosh I just feel so awfully for having fallen asleep!’ you commented breathing loudly ‘… I swear that I totally understand if Freydis is angry with me’.

‘I actually…’ he started with a smile that wasn’t truly a smile, but something to hide his uneasiness ‘… actually I think that she is grateful for that. I can be pretty annoying…’.

Which you didn’t certainly deny.

But at the same time, you would have been eager to have him back at home, had you been pregnant as Freydis, although you didn’t regret your pregnancy and certainly didn’t need a man by your side, but…

… having him back home with you would have made you feel better.

Although Ivar could be indeed quite suffocating when he was trying to be ‘overprotective’.

But again, it wasn’t any of your business.

‘… are you sure?’ you simply mumbled, feeling like you could have survived a bit more with Aslaug’s food and a bit of relax, although you had to get to your phone, probably, before your mother came to search you, here, herself.

The brothers all left before dinner and in the end, it was simply you and Eric, Aslaug and Ragnar, the latter basically falling asleep on the sofa, right after the meal.

Aslaug stayed up just in time for supper, before retiring to her chambers, probably a bit tired by the fact that she had had to handle an ex-husband, one child and three grown-ups who were like children, mentally.

You and Eric also left soon, as Ivar took care of switching off the lights and setting the alarm, but you knew that he also needed a bit of private time to talk with Freydis.

And you had to set a five-year-old with too much sugar in bed, washing him up and changing him in comfortable clothes, making sure he got his meds.

As you were changing him, Ivar knocked on your door, to wish you goodnight and offer you a set of pajama, which you immediately recognized as an  old pair you had left at his house when you were fifteen and used to sleep over there, enough that you had started leaving pajamas as clues in Ivar’s wardrobe.

But you couldn’t deny still the surprise you felt when you had it in your hands, laughing lightly as you wondered whether you’d be able to fit in them.

“… I can’t believe that you still have it” you mumbled, stretching it out in front of you to take in the awful sloth decoration on it, and the obnoxious white color that had become a dirtied yellow for too many wash-ups.

“Mom must have noticed it and washed it” he commented dryly, and you could detect the lies in his words, but were grateful to sleep into something familiar and not your uncomfortable clothes.

And it smelled like Ivar.

As if you were back at the times when you had just been invited to sleep over at his house, once your parents’ fighting had become too intense for you, and you had just snuggled closer to him, his smell immediately comforting you.

And it still comforted you to this day.

“Thank you” you muttered, as Eric moved forward to receive his ‘goodnight kiss’ and his ‘goodnight story’, something that effectively seemed to ease him up, meanwhile he settled in the big bed next to you and you changed in the bathroom, noticing that you had grown a few inches since the last time you had worn the pajama.

It had grown also tight in some other places, and you were almost ashamed of moving yourself outside of the bathroom, eventually bringing yourself to when Eric called out for you, and you tried to keep your eyes down, as you sat beside him in bed, his eyes still shining with some kind of interested ‘curiosity’.

Almost a gleaming mischievousness.

So, you got ready for whatever he was going to ask for.

“Mom!” he chanted out loudly and you shushed him telling him ‘to be mindful of the people sleeping in other rooms’ “… how did you and dad meet?”.

Gosh, didn’t this bring out horrible memories?

And some sweet ones.

Ivar looked as confused as you for the question, but not half-displeased.

“Sweetie, it is a long story…” you started, but Eric looked like he might have not slept for months if he hadn’t heard it, as he pleaded for more.

‘Just another minute!’ he chanted loudly ‘… just another story’.

And eventually both you and Ivar relented, the man’s eyes sparkling brightly, as he started.

“Actually I knew your mother for a long time, since we were tiny like you…” and he went to boop softly his son’s face, making him giggle “… we were best friends for a long time”.

“And then what changed?” asked curiously Eric.

��Ivar started to look me as a woman, not as simply his best friend’ you wanted to say, but you knew that this wouldn’t have been very PG-13, so you simply opted for a more ‘fairytale-like’ explanation.

“… your dad and I both grew up and so did our deelings, and our friendship became more love” you explained, as you kissed softly his forehead, Ivar’s eyes slowly settling up to you meanwhile you said those words.

And you tried not to let it affect you.

… too much.

Since it was truly impossible not to feel the pressure of those beautiful eyes.

“But if you loved each other why did you…” his brain seemed to settle up links and you honestly were as confused as him to that situation, because in the end although Ivar had told you that he didn’t love you anymore, he hadn’t ever said the reasons behind it “… why are you not together anymore?”.

And you let also this be handled by Ivar.

His eyes shifting on the floor as you, yourself, felt too uncomfortable at that question.

“… we just…” they were blabbers the ones in Ivar’s voice “… I broke your mom’s heart sadly, a lot time ago, and I wasn’t able to do much to repair it in the meanwhile, but…”.

He brought you closer to him, with a loose arm, which made you both seem the picture of awkwardness, but it was enough convincing for Eric.

“… but we are together, now…”.

“… in a way” you added, before moving closer to Eric with a serious look “… and somebody is way past his bath time!”.

And Eric tried to protest a bit more, but eventually he let go, and you switched off the main light, leaving only the one on the bedside table, as Ivar continued on softly combing his hair, something that eventually got Eric to breath out softly, signaling he was asleep.

And Ivar had to leave.

Although you could see he didn’t want to.

And you couldn’t deny him, truly.

“… would you like to lay down for a bit with us?” you asked softly, as you settled on the opposite side of him “… he seems happier and calmer when you are beside him”.

“I never thought somebody would have said that” he commented with a light twinkle in his eyes “… you won’t mind if I stay?”.

You shook your head, telling yourself that it was just for tonight.

It was just for one night.

And then you’d go back to normality.

Sadly.

---

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#Ivar #Ivar The Boneless #Ivar Reader #Ivar The Boneless Reader #Ivar x Reader #Ivar The Boneless x Reader #Ivar Imagine #Ivar The Boneless Imagine #Ivar Fic #Ivar The Boneless Fic #Ivar Fluff #Ivar Angst #Modern! Ivar #Vikings #History Vikings #Vikings Imagine

[footballerimaginess]

Baby Prompt List

This is a long prompt list! 100 prompts from pregnancy up until toddler. Feel free to use this prompt list by reblogging, if you do use it tag me in it. I would love to read your work! I may do a second baby prompt list! Also I used a few prompts from other lists, credit to those for being so talented.Thank you for using if you do!  1. He/She is kicking 2. Is this a pregnancy test? 3. I think I'm in labour 4. My waters have just broken 5. He/She weed all over me 6. I'm late 7. Pregnancy hormones are no joke 8. I'm craving 9. I feel so fat 10. Nothing fits me 11. You need to change that nappy, it is so full 12. He/She is pissing everywhere 13. Oh we do make cute babies 14. Triplets, oh wow 15. We have got our work cut out with this one 16. Daddy where do babies come from? 17. You aren't helping me here 18. I want another baby 19. You need some sleep, you are exhausted 20. Stomach bug? No, morning sickness 21. It's your turn 22. Welcome home 23. That smell is repulsive 24. Can we make more babies? 25. Troublesome twins 26. You are going to look just as beautiful as mummy 27. I don't want a baby brother or sister 28. She has got you wrapped round your little finger 29. I'm not sharing my toys 30. I'm too young to have a baby 31. Can you play with me? 32. Hide from mummy 33. I made this for you 34. I'm pregnant 35. I have a human growing inside of me,I'm not okay 36. They are your first steps 37. Of course your first word is daddy 38. This parenting hing is tiring work 39. Pregnancy tests don't lie 40. I'm so hungry 41. Can we go see daddy? 42. Play hide and seek with me 43. I'm not playing with my brother/sister 44. How do they have so much energy? 45. How do I give birth to her/him, only for the baby to look like you 46. Just eat your food please 47. Do not throw that on the floor 48. I don't remember the last time I had a full nights sleep 49. He/She is so poorly, it's okay. I've got you 50. Did the scary monster get you while you were sleeping? 51. Mummy's cuddles are always the best 52. I'm a handyman, this room will look amazing 53. Can we have more children? 54. Walk towards daddy 55. Can I cuddle you mummy? 56. Mummy I miss daddy 57. I can't sleep 58. I need a plaster, I cut my knee 59. Did you hurt yourself baby? 60. You are in a playful mood aren't you? 61. How are you going to big school today? 62. You are so grown up 63. Where has my little baby gone? 64. Can we go and see nanny? 65. I'm glad we finally have some alone time 66. Let's have a daddy daughter/son day 67. Can I go through this again? 68. I don't remember you pushing this baby out 69. I'm the cool parent, they can't admit it 70. We don't eat mud, please do not put that in your mouth 71. I don't know if I can do this 72. How many babies are we having? There is enough clothes for a 100 of them 73. You have been throwing up for hours 74. Please don't tell me that you bough the kids a dog 75. Was this baby a mistake? 76. I feel so emotional, I need a slap to stop me crying 77. Why are you awake? You need to sleep 78. My life is complete with you 79. Did you just say pregnancy is hard? How the fuck would you know? 80. I'm in so much pain 81. I know its the hormones talking, but you are pissing me off 82. Are you okay? You are acting off 83. You aren't pregnant are you? 84. Are my tshirts comfy? Because I see they are all missing 85. The bump is in the way, we can't have sex 86. I feel so uncomfortable, the baby is wriggling far too much 87. All I do is complain, I am not that mum 88. I'm a cool mum 89. Put the baby on your chest, like skin to skin 90. I have stretch marks, look at them 91. I can't have children 92. The adoption process is for us 93. But they aren't my children 94. This is what kids do to you, having a sneaky wine while hiding from them 95. Finally they are asleep, this has been a long day 96. Who told me children's homework was supposed to be this hard? 97. Single parenting is tough 98. But I'm not their biologocial parent, they don't know me 99. Mummy, why don't we see daddy? 100. Why did you make me pregnant again?

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