#winter wind down fest | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cha-melodius · 8 months

Text

Cold Light

(For @natendo-art, who asked for Loki & Mobius in Norway or Iceland, potentially watching the northern lights; tumblr ATE your ask, but fortunately not before I got your prompt out of it. Thank you so much!)

chamel's fandom fest info | read all the fics

(lokius, 3.6k, M; read it below or on AO3)

With a sickening crunch of grinding gears, the engine of Mobius’ rental car seizes up and leaves him coasting to a stop on the side of the road. He’s about fifty kilometers outside of the nearest town of any size, and it’s late. There hasn’t been another car on the road for a while. His phone shows not a single bar of service.

In short, he’s completely screwed.

For a few minutes he considers his options. He could conserve heat and wait until morning in the car, when hopefully there might be more traffic traveling this route. It’s not yet fully winter, so he might be ok. He could see if he can tell what’s wrong with the engine, though that seems futile. He does enough remote research to have a working knowledge of simple engines, but a late-model car with all its electrical components is probably beyond him. Walking anywhere is pretty much out of the question, though he supposes there’s a chance he might find some kind of farmhouse.

It feels fatalistic to not even look at the engine. With a sigh, he pops the hood and extracts himself from the warm cabin of the car. About five seconds after he lifts the hood, he realizes he doesn’t have a flashlight. It’s probably moot; there’s a rather sickening burnt odor emanating from the engine block.

Lovely.

He’s just turning away when he hears the tell-tale purr of an engine approaching, and a moment later twin headlights swing around the curve down the road. As the light washes over him, Mobius puts his hand up and prays for a good samaritan. The car continues to get closer seemingly without slowing, resolving into something black and sleek and expensive-looking, and Mobius is already mentally cursing the driver when it abruptly screeches to halt next to him. Even if his night vision hadn’t been blasted to hell, the windows are tinted, so he can’t see a damned thing about the car’s occupant until the driver’s side door swings open and a tall person in a long, dark coat gracefully unfolds from within.

“Thank god,” Mobius breathes, sending a cloud out in front of him. It’s colder than he thought. “Hi. Hello. Sorry, my Norwegian’s a little rusty. Do you speak English?”

Lit up from the side by the glow of the headlights, his savior resolves into someone more-or-less masculine-presenting as Mobius approaches, with shoulder-length dark hair framing a handsome, angular face. From what Mobius can see, he’s wearing a suit under his wool coat, with a luxurious green scarf looped around his neck. He looks like he belongs in New York, or London, or at the very least Oslo, and not in the middle of fucking nowhere in the farthest northern reaches of Norway.

“I do,” the man answers in an unexpectedly British accent. “I take it you’re in some trouble?”

“You could say that, yeah,” Mobius huffs, glancing back at the vehicle. “Engine’s caput.”

“Yours?”

“Rental.”

“Ah,” the man says. “Mind if I take a look?”

Huh. Unexpected, but Mobius just shrugs. “Knock yourself out. But, er. I don’t have a flashlight.”

In response, the man pulls out a phone and turns the flash on—Jesus, why didn’t he think of that?—then hands it over to Mobius to hold as he gingerly leans over the engine.

“There was a crunch,” Mobius offers. “Before it stopped.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” the man replies as he straightens up again. Whatever he was doing he seems to be done with, even though he hasn’t touched a thing. He stares up at the sky for a moment, as if lost in thought; in the silence that follows, Mobius watches ribbons of what’s shaping up to be a rather spectacular display of the aurora borealis begin winding their way across the night’s sky behind him.

“So? What do you think?”

“Hm?”

“About the engine.”

“Oh, I don’t actually know anything about engines.”

Mobius stares at him for a beat in disbelief. “Then why’d you want to see it?”

The man shrugs, a vaguely amused expression playing on his features. “Seemed like a thing one does when your vehicle breaks down.”

Mobius can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes him, and he shakes his head. Everyone’s a comedian, apparently.

“I presume you might like a ride?” the man asks.

“Is that a real offer or just something you do when you see someone stranded by the side of the road?” Mobius counters.

The smile pulling at one corner of the man’s mouth deepens. “A real one. Although I think I’m headed in the opposite direction of your travel.”

“Not picky,” Mobius says. “If you can get me somewhere with cell service and a place to stay the night, I’m good. I’ll work out the rest in the morning.”

The man inclines his head and makes an ‘after you’ gesture toward his car, so Mobius grabs his belongings from the backseat of the rental and transfers them to the other vehicle. It’s meticulous inside, all gleaming black leather without a single scuff, and Mobius feels distinctly shabby in comparison. His bag is beat to hell and filthy. He probably should have put it in the trunk.

It’s only once he’s buckling himself into the front seat that Mobius realizes that they never actually introduced themselves. “I’m Mobius, by the way,”

The man’s attention flickers over to him momentarily as he pulls back into the road. “A pleasure to meet you, Mobius,” he replies. But then, instead of offering his own name in return, he just asks, “What brings you Magerøya?”

Hm. Mobius considers pushing, but in the end he lets it go. For now. “Research,” he answers. “I study the effects of climate change in the boreal forest.”

“So you know the area well.”

“Spend three months of every year here collecting data.”

“In the middle of winter?”

Mobius smirks to himself; it’s a question he gets a lot. “Best time to detect the effects I’m looking for.”

What is surprising is how many questions the man asks; he gets Mobius going, and it’s easy to forget that he’s not shared a single thing about himself. Easy, but Mobius doesn’t, in fact, forget. Maybe he wants to be mysterious, but Mobius has brash American inquisitiveness on his side. He likes to know people.

They’re approaching the outskirts of a small village when the conversation lulls and Mobius sees his chance. “So are you gonna tell me your name, or am I just going to have to refer to you as my tall, dark, and handsome savior?”

The man glances over at him, clearly amused, though whether by the question or Mobius calling him handsome is unclear. After another beat, he answers, “It’s Loki.”

“Suits you,” Mobius says, which earns him a quirked eyebrow. “I just mean— I don’t know. But it does.”

“I’m sure my parents will be very pleased.”

“Are you from around here originally?”

Loki glances at him again, his expression unreadable. “Not exactly.”

They ride the rest of the short distance in silence, and before Mobius can figure out something else to say, they’re pulling up in front of a small tavern that’s miraculously still open. The warm lights spilling out of it shine through the window and highlight the fine lines of Loki’s nose and cheekbones, and Mobius spares a millisecond of disappointment that he’ll never get to find out what’s lurking behind those blue-green eyes. Instead, he thanks Loki for the ride and gets out of the car, ducking into the back for his things.

He’s halfway to the door of the tavern when he hears a window roll down behind him.

“You’re wrong about one thing, Mobius,” Loki calls out to him as he turns to look back.

“What’s that?”

The expression on Loki’s face is grim. “I’m nobody’s savior.”

With that, he speeds off down the road like some kind of spirit that has granted a boon and disappeared into the night, leaving you wondering if they were ever really real.

~~~~~

Loki, as it turns out, is very, very real.

Real enough to push him up against a wall outside the one bar in town, slip a thigh between his legs, and kiss him hard enough to bruise. Real enough to dig long, slender fingers into his neck and under his belt, to make him gasp as his hips grind forward, to bite down on Mobius’ lower lip until it stings.

“I’ve got a room in town,” Mobius manages at one point when they come up for air, as he stares up into the night sky. It’s cleared up after the storm earlier, and delicate green tendrils are twisting their way across the milky way.

“Perfect,” Loki purrs into his neck. “Let’s go.”

Running into Loki again had not been on Mobius’ bingo card for this field season. He’d come into town from the field station for supplies, only for the weather to turn and certainly make the dirt roads back to his site impassible. Fortunately he’d been able to grab a room at a little bed and breakfast that was only too happy to have the off-season business. When he’d ventured out to the tavern for a beer and some food, the very last person Mobius expected to see had been sitting at the bar.

At first, Mobius wondered if his company would be welcome after how they’d parted. He’d taken the stool next to him, but left the approach up to Loki. It hadn’t taken long. Loki seemed to be in a better mood than their first encounter. He’d asked how Mobius was doing (fine), inquired about life at the field station (a bit monotonous). Maybe it was the drinks. Maybe it was something else. Mobius wasn’t going to question it.

The next surprise had been the flirting. Look, it’s been a while—too busy with his work was the old excuse—but Mobius knows when he’s being hit on. They’d talked, they’d drunk, they’d laughed, they’d drunk some more, Loki had suggested they move to a booth, then hooked his foot between Mobius’ in a way that left little open to interpretation.

And now they’re here, Mobius pressed against the wall next to the light switch of his room, even though the bed is barely ten steps away, with Loki’s lips wrapped around his cock. The man is a wonder with his tongue, and it really has been a while, so Mobius is rapidly hurtling toward the precipice of his own release when Loki pulls off with an obscene pop.

“Will you fuck me?” he asks, clear evidence of his previous activities in the rough scratch of his voice.

Shit. Mobius swallows hard. “I don’t have any—”

“I do,” Loki interrupts before he can finish, which is really something. “Will you?”

For all their conversation tonight, he still knows basically nothing about this man. This is insane. But then Loki slides a hand up along his shaft, thumbing teasingly under the head, and he bites back a groan. “Jesus, yes.”

This time, at least, they make it to the bed.

~~~~~

III

Loki is gone without a trace before Mobius wakes up the next morning, and Mobius doesn’t see him again for another three weeks. That, too, is a surprise: Bea said she hired a guide with a boat to take him out to some remote fjord that’s unaccessible by any other means, a new place he hasn’t actually sampled. Mobius imagines some grizzled Norwegian fisherman with a white beard and a wool cap pulled down over his lined face. What he finds when he gets to the dock at the designated time is Loki.

Loki, looking down as he coils a rope next to a small but well-kept fishing boat with the name Frigga painted on the side, wearing a thick, oatmeal-colored cabled sweater, his black hair falling like a curtain around his face. Long fingers that pressed so cleverly to Mobius’ skin work through a knot in the line, and Mobius feels something hot flare in his gut. God dammit, this is not what he needed today.

“You’re the one Bea hired,” Mobius says in lieu of a greeting as he approaches, shifting his bag of gear over his shoulder.

Loki looks up at him, his face unreadable. “It appears so.”

“Didn’t know you had a boat.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Mobius says pointedly. To this, Loki says nothing, returning his attention to the rope in his hands. “Did you know it was me when you took the job?”

“I had an idea.”

That’s… something. Mobius doesn’t know what. It feels silly to be hurt by the fact that Loki left without so much as a note when it was pretty clear what he’d been after from the start. They’re not friends; they’re barely acquaintances. They fucked once. It didn’t mean anything.

(It felt like it had meant something, when Mobius had called him sweetheart and said let me take care of you, and Loki had whimpered out a broken please and held on tightly enough to leave bruises on Mobius’ skin that had lingered for days.)

“Well,” Mobius says. “Ready when you are, I guess.”

Things are tense at first. They don’t speak except to confirm the sites on the map where Mobius wants to visit. Loki watches him intently as he works, though there’s no sense of impatience in it. He just… watches, with some degree of interest. Maybe his questions about Mobius’ research that first night in the car weren’t just deflection.

“D’ya wanna help?” Mobius asks at the third stop.

Loki actually looks around like there could possibly be anyone else in the vicinity. “Me?”

“No, the marmot half a hill over,” Mobius says sardonically. “Yes, you. Would go faster with two pairs of hands.”

“Don’t you have a field assistant?”

“She had other sites to visit today.”

Mobius doesn’t wait, just starts setting up the equipment as he has at the previous localities. Somehow, he feels like he has learned something about this man, and his instincts are right. Sure enough, a few minutes later Loki cautiously approaches him.

Got ‘im, Mobius thinks, hiding his smirk.

“What, er,” Loki hedges, “would you like me to do?”

It does go more quickly with two people; quickly enough that Mobius thinks he can get in a few more sites before the early sunset. When he proposes this to Loki, he’s surprised again.

“We can keep going until nightfall,” Loki tells him.

“You can navigate back in the dark?” Mobius asks uncertainly. He hadn’t seen much in the way of electronics in the cabin.

Loki just nods as he stares out in front of the boat. “I know these waters well.”

They settle into an easier routine after that as they visit the remaining sites. Now that the dam has been breached, Loki starts talking again—though for a man who clearly likes to talk, he almost never says anything. He tells stories about nothing, regales Mobius with Norse myths of his namesake, gossips about the townsfolk that Mobius has had occasion to get to know. Mobius can tell that Loki doesn’t think he’s giving anything away, but Mobius is not your usual observer. Not by a long shot.

Night falls swiftly this time of year, and with it comes yet another vivid aurora. The phenomenon isn’t uncommon up here, of course, but Mobius feels like he’s never seen them quite so spectacularly as when he’s with Loki. But maybe that’s just the hopeless romantic in him.

Loki has somehow managed to—accidentally, no doubt—get himself talking about his boat as they head back toward the village, and Mobius pounces.

“Why Frigga?”

Loki is silent for a moment, his skin washed a faint green by the northern lights. “For my mother,” he says, so softly Mobius almost doesn’t hear him over the motor. He looks over at Mobius, and there’s something terribly laid bare in his expression. “To remind me of her and her stories.”

This time, Mobius doesn’t push.

~~~~~

“Who the everloving fuck is knocking at the door at this hour?” Bea says, with no small amount of irritation.

Mobius can’t help but agree with her sentiment, if not her delivery. The field station is three hours outside of the closest village on terrible roads. He’s not sure a single person has ever come out here that they didn’t explicitly ask to do so. Certainly not at nine o’clock at night. In fact, it’s more likely that whoever it is could be in trouble of some kind. There aren’t a lot of hikers around this time of year, but the ones that are here often seem to have a bit of a screw loose. With a sigh, Mobius levers himself out of his comfy chair and heads over to the front door, which creaks on its hinges as he opens it.

The person on the other side is not, in fact, lost.

“Loki? What are you doing here?”

“Well, hello to you too,” Loki replies. He’s quite thoroughly bundled up against the midwinter chill, his nose gone slightly pink, but there’s a tiny, tentative smile curling his lips.

“Hi, yeah, sorry,” Mobius says, taking a step back. “C’mon, get in out of the cold.”

Loki just shakes his head. “Actually, I was hoping you’d join me?”

“Join you where?”

“There’s a clearing at the top of a cliff nearby with excellent views. I have good reason to think the northern lights will be particularly stunning tonight, and I thought…” Loki trails off, looking abruptly sheepish.

“Close the goddamned door!” Bea calls from behind him, making them both jump.

Mobius makes a snap decision and grabs his winter gear, following Loki out into the cold and tugging the door closed behind him. The air has that heavy silence it only gets in the winter, when there’s snow on the ground deadening all sounds. It’s a crystal clear night, and Mobius’ breath plumes out in huge clouds in front of him as he shrugs into his coat.

“You thought?” Mobius prompts.

Loki looks briefly startled. “Oh, I just thought we could… spend some time together?”

“Did you now?” Mobius replies, unable to stop the grin that’s taking over his face. Especially when Loki makes a point to look exceedingly pained by this admission.

“Do you want to go or not?” Loki huffs with an attempt at irritation that doesn’t quite hit the mark. “I brought wine.”

“Oh, well, if there’s wine.”

“I don’t know why I came out here.”

Mobius levels a look at him. “Why did you come out here, Loki?”

“I told you, I was nearby—” Loki tries.

“No one is nearby here,” Mobius says, cutting him off. “Ever.”

A beat of silence passes, then another as Loki looks up into the trees and blows out a pensive breath. “Because I wanted to, all right? Your company isn’t… unpleasant.”

“A truly glowing endorsement.”

“Yes, well,” Loki says, biting down on a smile. “If you knew me better, you’d know that it is.”

“I think I’m starting to get the picture,” Mobius tells him as they start walking. He’s pretty sure he knows where they’re going, since he knows the area around the field station quite well, but he’s happy to let Loki lead. Their boots crunch on the snow as they wend their way through the trees along some ancient path toward the sea. “You’ve been here before,” he ventures eventually, not quite a question.

Loki gives a small nod. “Not for quite some time, though. Certainly there was no field station the last time I was here.” He slants a small smile toward Mobius. “Love what you’ve done with the place.”

“The university said the landowners were very encouraging of research activities on the property,” Mobius says, watching him carefully. “That’s you? You’re the landowner?”

“My mother left it to me,” Loki confirms. “For a long time after her death I couldn’t really bear being up here, so I left its management up to a third party. I do try to keep up with the active projects, though.”

“So that first night, when you asked me about my research…”

“I figured out who you were rather quickly, yes. But I was curious,” Loki says as he slows to a stop near some low boulders in the middle of the clearing. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who made me so curious as you do, Mobius.”

“I’m really not that interesting,” Mobius protests, huffing a self-deprecating laugh.

Loki shifts closer, sliding a gloved hand onto Mobius’ waist and drawing him in until their noses nearly brush together. “I disagree,” he murmurs, then he closes the remaining gap between them.

His lips are cold and dry from the winter air, but they part readily, welcoming Mobius to the heat within. It’s so different from every kiss they’ve shared previously; there’s no urgency, no desperation, no sense of being kept at arm’s length even as they fall into each other. Loki kisses him with slow and unwavering purpose, as if pouring weeks of unspoken feeling into it, all the things he hid behind idle chatter and silver words, and it leaves Mobius far more breathless than can be explained by a simple lack of oxygen.

Eventually they do part, though not without a few more stolen kisses, and Loki pulls him down to sit on the boulders. They huddle close, tangled in each other’s arms against the chill, and because it feels impossible to keep any space between them now that Loki is letting him in.

“So does this mean I get to learn more about you?” Mobius asks cheekily as Loki fishes a flask of wine out from somewhere deep in his coat. Loki gives him a look, and he grins. “I’m curious.”

A soft puff of laughter escapes Loki. “What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about your mother,” Mobius says. “If you want.”

Loki smiles softly at him, and there, under the breathtaking northern lights, he tells a story.

#lokius #loki x mobius #loki laufeyson #mobius m. mobius #loki fanfic #loki fic #loki series #loki tv #my fic #chamel's fandom fest

25 notes · View notes

blurbry · 8 months

Text

Hello Beauties! Its Blurbry ramble day.

Today my brain is on the track of birthday decisions. Now, Ive done a ramble like this before, way back, buti figured Id bring it back up again.

If the boys stayed seperate they would probably want their own birthdays and such, so thinking on the lines of it:

Taking the boy's elements into choice

Red: Fire, Fire is associated with hot, warming, comfort, sometimes disaster, I think Red chose his birthday to be in the Winter, his element is stronger in the winter, as any enemies that spawn of course, are mostly snow enemies and can easily be melted. Probably November or December.

Green: Wind element, wind is associated with peacful breezes or disasterous hurricanes, the time of season i see the most wind is spring, march winds. He probably chose March for is birthmonth.

Blue: water, water is associatedwith cooling down, drinking floods, swimming in the hot sun. Hes probably chosen his birth month to be between May- August

Vio: Earth, I associate earth with the scent of life, dirt, stirred up leaves, mushrooms. So id honestly put vio with an Autmn birthday, September

Shadow: Shadow wants to be edgy, hes probably chose october 31st, hyrule's great halloween fest. He also makes it seem like the festival is all for him and will often flop over everyones shoulder asking if they got him a gift.

Please remember: this is just a ramble, . So, what are your thoughts on the matter? Id love to see what others think ^^

#four swords #blurbry rambles #vio link #blue link #red link #shadow link #green link #four swords manga #headcanonning

18 notes · View notes

i-have-not-slept · 7 months

Text

Animalec Fest

September 23: Lost

@animalecfest

This chapter is the first of a three-part series covering the prompts Lost, Sacrifice and Mating. These chapters were inspired by the twelfth-century Breton poem "Bisclavaret" by Marie de France, also known as "the Lay of The Were-Wolf". You can read a translation of the original story here:

🐺⚔️👑🐺⚔️👑🐺⚔️👑🐺⚔️👑🐺⚔️👑🐺⚔️👑

It was a clear, crisp autumn morning on the day that Magnus rode out from his castle, the air cool on his face. Avorig, the land of his kingdom, was beautiful to him at any time, but particularly so at this time of year, with the leaves just turning golden on the trees and the first hint of winter cold in the air. He drew rein as he came to the top of a hill and smiled as he saw his destination spread before him. Tan Koad Castle, one of the ancestral seats of the Avorig barons, and home to one of Magnus’s very favourite people.

He rode down the valley slopes to the castle, his horse’s hooves clattering on the cobblestone as he rode through the gates. There was already someone waiting for him in the castle courtyard, and Magnus smiled softly as he recognised the tall figure.

Alec came up to him, holding the horse’s reins so Magnus could dismount. “Welcome, my lord. We didn’t expect you for another hour at least.”

“I have a fast horse.” Magnus said. “And I brought no entourage, as you can see.” He waved his hand towards the empty gate of the castle.

A slight frown touched Alec’s face. “My lord, you shouldn’t be travelling alone.”

“I’m not alone now, am I?” Magnus murmured. “I’m with you.” He let his hand brush Alec’s arm lightly, and the knight looked away quickly, signalling for a stablehand to take Magnus’s horse.

As Alec opened the door of the castle, Magnus put his head on one side, considering him. Alexander Lightwood, baron of the Tan Koad region since his father had died five years before. One of Magnus’s most loyal knights, who had guarded this harsh border country so well that Magnus had never heard a single complaint from any of Alec’s people. A man who seemed to have everything, at least on the surface.

And yet, he had secrets. There was something Alec was hiding, something Magnus couldn’t guess at. There was the way Alec looked at Magnus, of course. He’d known that for years, had spent many sleepless nights lying awake consumed by the thought of Alec’s eyes, his lips, his hands. He’d seen Alec’s blushes, his gazes that lingered on Magnus a second too long before pulling away. All this Magnus knew.

But there was something else as well, an even larger secret Alec was hiding. Magnus sensed it instinctively. He didn’t know what it was, but he had never pushed Alec to reveal all the sides of himself that he kept hidden.

“I would like to ride with you, Alexander, once my horse is rested.” Magnus said. “Somewhere private, where we can discuss affairs. Of the barony, that is.”

Alec stiffened slightly, his back straightening. “Of course. Affairs of the barony.” There was the faintest flush in his cheeks, which Magnus ignored. “If you’ll give me a minute to change into my riding clothes?”

May I watch? Magnus wanted to say, but stopped himself just in time. He merely nodded, and Alec backed away, then turned quickly and headed up one of the winding stone staircases into the tower.

Magnus gave a little sigh and sat down on one of the plush couches that stood in the entrance room. A moment later, there was a noise of footsteps behind him and he turned to see Alec’s sister, Lady Isabelle and someone else that Magnus was very fond of.

“My lord.” Isabelle said, raising her eyebrows. She didn’t seem at all surprised to find the king waiting in her castle. She dropped a perfunctory curtsey— Isabelle had never shown much respect for royalty, which Magnus secretly admired her for— and sat down opposite him, smoothing out the skirt of her red velvet gown.

“It’s a pleasure to have you, as always.” She raised her eyebrows knowingly at him. “I do hope my brother isn’t boring you too much.”

Magnus leaned back, smiling at her. “Not to worry, my lady. I’ve never found Alexander boring.”

Isabelle smiled in return. She stood and crossed over to the far wall, where there were a number of wine kegs stacked up for the winter. She poured them both a drink and returned to the couches, handing Magnus one of the goblets. He took an appreciative sip of the wine, feeling the warmth spread through his chest and looked back at Isabelle. She was resting her chin on her hand, gazing at him thoughtfully.

“You should visit more often, my lord.” she said, although Magnus already visited Tan Koad more frequently than any of the kingdom’s other baronies. “It breaks the monotony. And Alec’s always so happy to see you.”

“Really?” Magnus said, with exaggerated surprise. “I had the impression that Alexander couldn’t wait for me to leave.”

Isabelle laughed, then became more serious. “Really, Magnus. It’s good for him, getting to see you. It’s just about the one happiness he ever gets.”

Magnus opened his mouth to say something else, but at that moment Alec came into the entrance hall, dressed in his riding gear. His eyes swept over Magnus and Isabelle. Magnus wondered if he’d heard anything of their conversation. He didn’t think so, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Alas, my lady, I must take your leave.” Magnus said, with a dramatic bow. Isabelle smiled and swept past him with a wink. “Have fun, my lord.”

The forest was golden and red, leaves clustering around them like a bright tapestry, shot through with dark tree trunks. Magnus rode close to Alec, their knees nearly touching on the narrow forest trail. Alec was telling Magnus everything that had happened since his last visit— a couple of border raids, a storm that destroyed three fields— but Magnus wasn’t really listening. He was distracted by the low soothing hum of Alec’s voice, how the moisture-laden air made the hair at the back of his neck curl damply. He kept thinking about what Isabelle had said

Alec seemed to realise he wasn’t listening and tailed off mid-sentence. “Is everything alright, your majesty?”

“How’s your wife?” Magnus asked abruptly.

Alec flinched, very slightly. “She’s fine.”

“It must be hard for her,” Magnus said conversationally, “when meeting with the king takes up so much of her husband’s time.”

He didn’t know why he goaded Alec like this, except maybe he preferred seeing Alec angry rather than miserable. If he was angry at Magnus, at least Magnus knew he felt something towards him, rather than just apathy.

Alec’s hands tightened briefly on the reins, but his face remained blank. “Lydia and I both know our duty to the kingdom. If the king needs to speak to me, I am there.”

Ah, yes. Baroness Lydia Lightwood, formerly Branwell. For a long time, Magnus had wanted to hate her, but found that he couldn’t. She was gracious, clever and politically capable, and it wasn’t her fault she happened to be married to the man Magnus adored. For years he’d watched them dance around each other, caught in the awkwardness of a political marriage that they were desperately trying to make work, despite being completely unsuited as a couple.

He remembered their wedding, not long before Alec’s parents died. Magnus himself, as the King, had been the one to perform the ceremony. He hadn’t known Alec well at the time, and had wondered why the young man looked so pale and agitated at the altar. Then, as he had got to know Alec better, and seen the way his eyes lingered on Magnus, he’d begun to suspect why. But by then it had been too late to do anything about it.

Magnus wondered, sometimes, if he’d been cursed at birth, doomed to live a life of luxury as the King, with everything he could want except the one person he wanted more than anything.

“I recently increased the garrison patrols on the kingdom’s borders.” Alec was saying, and Magnus realised he’d been letting his mind wander.

“Is that right?” he replied. “How far are we from the border now?”

“About an hour’s ride.” Alec said. He seemed more relaxed now that the conversation had shifted back to matters of military strategy.

“So we’re unlikely to see anyone where we are now.” Magnus said. “After all, this is a very remote part of the kingdom, isn’t it? How far away is the nearest settlement from here?”

“At least a mile.” Alec replied. He was staring pointedly at the path in front of them, not meeting Magnus’s eyes.

“So we’re completely alone.” Magnus said. He nudged his horse a fraction closer, so his knee just brushed Alec’s. Alec stiffened very slightly but kept his eyes straight ahead. “If you say so, my lord.” he replied noncommittally.

Magnus waited, hoping, but there was no other response from Alec. Disappointed, he allowed his shoulders to slump slightly.

“Is there anything else you wished to discuss, my lord?” Alec asked.

Magnus stared out at the expanse of the forest, full of whispering leaves and softly moving shadows. “Do you love me, Alexander?”

He thought he heard a sound like a pained gasp, like Alec had been struck, but when Magnus swung back to look at him he was perfectly composed, except for the faintest flush along his cheekbones. “Of course I love you.” Alec said evenly. “You are my king. I swore an oath to serve you and protect you, and lay down my life for you if necessary. I love you as all your knights love you, no less and— and no more.” He swallowed thickly, his eyes still fixed on the trees around them.

“Is that true, my Alexander?” Magnus asked, his voice low and seeking.

Alec’s eyes darted to him for just a fraction of a second, the blush in his cheeks deepening. Then his gaze dropped and he seemed to withdraw in on himself like a crab drawing into its shell. “Yes, my lord.” he said, in a very tight, controlled voice.

Magnus looked away. For a long time, there was silence, broken only by the soft thudding of their horses’ hooves and the jangling of the bits. There was a deep ache in Magnus’s chest, like the pain of a wound, or the pain of something missing from him.

“Is there anything else, my lord?” Alec asked finally.

Magnus’s voice was heavy as he replied. “No, Alexander.” He turned his horse back towards the castle and Alec followed him a second later. They rode the rest of the way in silence, Magnus staring fixedly at the woods around them, but never at Alec’s face. The ache in his chest grew worse with every beat of his heart, weighing on him like a stone.

Back at the castle, Alec swung down from his horse, but Magnus stayed in the saddle. Alec looked up at him in surprise. “Your majesty, aren’t you— aren’t you going to stay longer?”

“No.” Magnus said quietly, staring out at the forest. “No, I don’t have anything more to discuss with you at present. I’ll be back before too long, Alexander. Look after my people for me.”

Alec exhaled raggedly. “My lord—”

“I would much prefer,” Magnus said softly, “if you just called me Magnus.”

Alec’s eyes darted around, the colour coming back into his cheeks. “No.” he said thickly. “No, you’re the king. That wouldn’t be— right.”

Magnus looked down at him. “Why are you trying to tell me what’s right, Alexander?” he asked gently.

Alec’s flush deepened and his eyes dropped. His mouth opened, then closed again abruptly.

“Look after yourself, Alec.” Magnus murmured. He wheeled his horse around, galloping away from the castle. He didn’t look back at Alec, standing alone under the dark battlements.

Later, he would wish he had.

_______________________________________________

It was more than two weeks before Magnus got another chance to ride to Tan Koad and see Alec. This time, as he rode into the courtyard, he could see instantly that something was wrong. There was none of the cheerful busyness that was usually found in a castle. Guards and servants were hurrying around in every direction, talking together in little huddles or doing their usual tasks with an air of barely controlled panic. The whole scene was one of fearful agitation. Such was the chaos that it was nearly a full minute before anyone noticed that the King was in their midst.

Isabelle came hurrying out of the central tower and ran to Magnus. There was none of the casual, cheerful attitude she’d had the last time Magnus was here. She looked like she was fighting back tears.

“What is it?” Magnus asked in alarm, though a suspicion was already creeping at the back of his mind.

“It’s Alec.” Isabelle whispered. She gulped back tears, wiping her face hurriedly. “He’s vanished, Magnus. Last night, when everyone was asleep. We can’t find him anywhere. He’s gone.”

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #tsc #shadowhunters #cassandra clare #the shadowhunter chronicles #animalec fest 2023 #isabelle lightwood vibes #lydia branwell #don't worry guys malec is endgame #i had so much fun researching medieval courtly traditions for this fic #and setting it in medieval brittany was so interesting #trying to work in little details of language and culture #malec fanfic #bisclavret #marie de france

8 notes · View notes

garbagefarm · 1 month

Text

Garbage Farm (#48)

2024-03-25, session #48 of Garbage Farm! Spanning Winter 3 through Winter 9 of Year 4!

cast:

me (@mothmute)

E.B. (@blueherin)

Kimi (@2kimi2furious)

Highlights include, but are not limited to the following:

pre-game:

it's been a while, but Garbage is back, woohoo!

—oh. logistical difficulties. welp, it was bound to happen.

“so, uh, what'd you have for dinner?”

I did my Garbage Homework and I came prepared with a to-do list and everything! But nobody knows what we're doing.

(the song from titanic plays softly in the distance)

Possum is gonna be so so glad to see us, he might do a li'l hop and everything, maybe get all flat

Winter 3:

LET GARBAGE BE JOINED

oh god I've got clown shoes on and they jingle now, let's see how long before they notice

(spoilers: they don't)

I visit Marnie. Lewis assures me he is there strictly for business reasons.

Cringefail, one (1) more duck.

felled tree remains mysteriously appear in the graveyard??

Kimi finds a mystery door......

Clint caught me digging in the trash, who cares

Special order for Taro Root!

Alex is wearing his special shorts, but Kimi's are more special (hint: they are purple)

Winter 4:

Mr. Qi flies by on an airplane. Mystery boxes can now be found.

The Wizard Catalog is amazing.

I try to renovate my house, but all my stuff is in the way!

Made another shed big, though.

E.B. finds a mystery box. “what's inside?” “mystery, duh”

Honestly, a lot of the day is spent mindlessly wandering.

Big chests!! I'll miss the stone ones' aesthetics, but big chests!!

We all went to bed early

Winter 5:

Bookseller is in town???

Cool pig had an Elliott Portrait, that's not weird at all

(apparently had an Alex portrait, too)

I go ahead and max out the ducks

then I go consume all the books at once

Kimi finds powdermelon seeds??

Winter 6:

After moving all my furniture, I get a bunch of renovations to my house. To be honest, I have no idea what to do with all this space, my place was already a little sparse.

Kimi dies in the volcano because she didn't bring food!

(Somewhere in here, I suggest EB take the lead on the Taro Root quest)

Wind in the night...

Winter 7:

The big tree! Noooo! —eh, it was only there a few days.

A little hardwood turns it into a cute little house, though

Turns out, I'm the only one of us cool enough to explore the mystery cave 😎

It's wine night, and I drastically underestimate just how many kegs I have

Winter 8:

There's always so much to do! —and yet I can recall almost none of it!

Ice fest??

Kimi is running late to ice fest, but no worries. ... okay, maybe some worries, I am anxious-typed.

Hey, whole bunch of new dialog!

Evelyn is worried it might be the last time she make a snowman with Alex. That's so sad!! (It's okay, nobody dies here)

Harvey froze his face

Clint is completely useless at making snowmen

KIMI CAUGHT DOPING IN THE CONTEST AND STEALS 1ST PLACE

(it's okay)

I call out how nobody noticed my literal clownshoes and then realized, “shit, I sound like Clint,” 100% clown behavior

Winter 9?:

non-canon day!!

possum gives us a snail

MAYO CHUG hang on let's try and get a picture

Kimi tries and fails to count down

I suggest using a bomb as a timer; when the bomb goes off, drink!

we are so bad at this

over 12 in-game hours and no mayo chug picture, truly phenomenal

TO-DO:

crystalariums for coffee project and so many stairs

💀💀💀

I've been putting off kegs, preserves jars, and some tree-tap improvements for so many sessions, now

friendship!!

walnut room......

long-term projects, shopping lists

OPERATION MAGIC HAT (strictly confidential)

Keep exploring 1.6 content!!

Gotta defeat the ocean. The whole ocean.

... do we want extra garbage cottages?

oh right, darts

A short session, but it's good to be back, and I'm looking forward to exploring more 1.6 content with my friends

#stardew valley #garbage farm

2 notes · View notes

hide-in-imagination · 1 year

Text

Cruel Summer | Simbar Fic

-*Simón and Ámbar spent the summer in Cancún after the Roda Fest— That much is known. What no one knows is what happened during that summer.

This is a could've been. A glimpse into a moment lost in time.*-

------------------

New year, new multichapter! Hello, everyone. This is a project I've been working on for about three years now and I've finally decided to share it. It'll be four or five chapters, they're already drafted and halfway done, so I'll be posting this story along with Roads That Cross whenever I have the time. I'm hoping I can post all of it by the end of this year, 2023. Fingers crossed! Without further ado, I leave you with chapter 1. Hope you like it. — ☾

-----------------

1. Fever dream high in the quiet of the night…

The sea breeze hit Simón’s face as he walked down the beach. The sun had set recently, turning the clear, turquoise color of the water in Cancún into a dark blue. It was probably time he returned home, he thought. But the salty scent, the softness of the sand under his feet; all of it was like a part of him and it made him feel whole.

He needed that feeling.

He had lost count of the number of times he had volunteered to take the dog out for a walk these past days just so he could breathe in the sea. It was nice, but it always ended the same way.

With a sigh, Simón rubbed the sand off his feet and put on the shoes he had been carrying in his hands. Staying here until late wasn’t going to help. If it could, it would’ve done so by now.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts and gave one last long look at the waves, willing their sound to drown his thoughts. He was turning around to leave when he caught sight of something. No, not something— Someone.

The skip of his heart wasn’t something he could help or control. It had followed him around all summer, every time she was even mentioned, every time some seller by the coast offered handcrafted jewelry made of the semi-precious stone.

Ámbar.

Seeing her was a rare occurrence these days, and so much worse than just having to deal with the memories in his mind. She was walking in his direction, her gaze down, focused on how the breaking waves skirted close to her sandals and then retreated, never touching. Much of her skin was bare, covered only by a bikini as black as the night sky and short denim shorts. Her blond hair was loose and fluttering wildly from the wind. Her hand reached up to move it out of her face, and Simón remembered when it was him who did that.

That was then. Now was now.

When she saw him, she stopped in her tracks, clearly as taken aback as him. They looked at each other for a moment, then she turned to face the sea, her back straight, chin high. Her whole posture sent the message to just ignore her and keep going on his way.

Simón wanted to do just that ever since the moment he saw her. After all, they had managed to avoid each other for weeks now— They could keep doing it. But something pushed him to come closer instead. Maybe the exact same part of him that wanted to flee.

When he stood next to her, she made no sign of sensing his presence. He watched her profile, her gaze stubbornly fixed on the horizon.

“You shouldn’t be here alone this late.”

His words were only met with stoic silence.

His eyes stared at her on their own accord. There was a lot of exposed skin he wasn’t used to seeing; he tried to ignore that. What he could not ignore, however, were the goosebumps on her arms—And everywhere he looked, now that he was paying attention. Being in the tropic, Cancún was always warm, but in winter, at night, and right next to the sea breeze, the temperature was as low as it could be.

“You look cold,” he told her, but got no response. “Do you want my hoodie?” He offered, bringing his hands to its open front to take it off.

“No,” Ámbar spat.

It was the first word she had said to him in weeks.

Simón hesitated, seeing small shivers in her body. “But the wind is blowing strong and you’re—”

“What the fuck do you care?”

Her snap made him startle. His chest hurt— A quick pain that just as quickly turned bitter. He shouldn’t be surprised. This wasn’t the Ámbar he’d spent afternoons skating and talking with. This wasn’t the sweet person he thought he knew. And even if she was, even if any of it was real, it was all too wrapped up in lies and revenges and heartbreak for it to mean anything positive in his life.

God, what am I doing?

Simón clenched his jaw, smoothing his expression; he refused to keep looking like a fool. “You know what? You’re right. Forget it.”

He turned around, stomping through the sand in the direction of his house. He looked back after a moment, expecting to see her walking away as well, but she was still there, staring at the waves.

Who the hell cares. I try to be nice and she barks at me. Serves her right.

Simón kept walking. He could see some people far ahead walking along the beach too, apparently a family. He heard some loud voices and laughs to his right, coming from one of the shops on the sidewalk. It sounded like a group of guys, either drunk or getting there. He couldn’t tell from this distance if they were locals or tourists.

He looked back again. Ámbar was still where he left her, except sitting on the sand now.

Her house is not that far, she can walk. Not a big deal.

He walked a little more. Stopped. Turned.

Ámbar was curled up in the sand, her legs up to her chin as she hugged them. Even from this far he could tell she was shaking.

Oh god freaking damn it.

-------------------------

One second Ámbar was looking at the waves touching the shore, and the next, she felt a material collide against her right side, momentarily blinding her as some of it covered her face.

“You can throw it in the trash later if you hate it so much, but don’t freeze to death.”

By the time she pulled the fabric out of her eyes, confirming it was indeed Simón’s pale yellow hoodie, he had already turned and was walking away to where he came from.

A fire, dark and feral, burned in her chest. That was what he always did— Turn his back to her.

She crumpled the hoodie into a ball and threw it at him. It hit his back before falling to the sand.

“I don’t want anything from you.”

He turned around like a storm.

“Why are you being so damn difficult?!” He exclaimed, picking up the spurned hoodie from the sand. “I’m trying to be nice here, even though I have no reason to be, and you still reject my help!”

Ámbar stood with her arms crossed in front of her chest, staring him down. A small, mirthless smile graced her lips. “Sorry, that’s just how we people full of hate are. Nothing personal.”

Simón felt a jab in his heart at hearing his words thrown back at him. Guilt, regret, sadness— All three hit him like a slap, but he squished the sensation. He was not the one who did things wrong. He was not the one who lied. He was not the one constantly looking for ways to hurt someone— Like she was doing right now, telling him this to make him feel guilty, to make him feel even more miserable than he already was.

He rubbed a hand down his face.

“Just put it on, okay?” He asked her, extending her the hoodie.

“No. Leave me alone.”

Simón took a deep breath.

“Ámbar, you’re freezing, and you’re barely wearing anything more than a swimsuit, at night, alone, in a foreign country,” he stated pointedly, appealing to her good judgment. “The walk to your house is still many minutes long, and I don’t see that you have any money on you or your phone to call a car—Which, by the way, is very irresponsible of you. Now, do you want to die of hypothermia just to prove a point, or are you going to take my hoodie and live to hate me another day?”

Ámbar looked at the hoodie for a second. Then she turned her head toward the waves, her murmur barely audible over their sound.

“What if I rather freeze?”

Simón did a double take. She can’t be serious.

“I’ll put it on by force if I have to— Why are you being like this?!” He exclaimed, no longer able to contain his frustration.

“Why are you being like this?!” She volleyed back, bringing her fuming gaze back to him. “You don’t care about me, you made it very clear that you hate me, so why are you insisting so much?”

“Maybe because I have a heart and I can’t just see someone like this and do nothing?”

“I don’t want your pity,” she seethed.

Ámbar passed by him and began to walk towards the sidewalk. She had seen enough pity in the eyes of everyone in the last few days—

‘We’re sorry that Sharon lied to you like that.’

‘Luna might be Sol, but you’re still my granddaughter.’

—She didn’t need any more of that; especially from him.

Deep down, she knew she was being unreasonable. That the mature thing to do would be to just accept the damn hoodie and carry on with her life. But she had this instinct— this need— to preserve the last shred of dignity she still had left. After the way the two of them had left things, Ámbar wanted him gone from her life, she wanted him as far as possible.

It wasn’t that cold. She’d probably warm up if she jogged a little or something. She just had to get away from the sea breeze. From him. Very far from him until it didn’t hurt anymore.

But no, of course he wouldn’t give her that. She could hear his footsteps on the sand as he followed her, probably eager to deepen some wound, just as he had to go gloat in front of her after Luna won the Glass Skate.

And then people said she was the cruel one. That she was insensitive.

Fuck them and fuck him.

Simón tried to call out to Ámbar, but she kept walking away from him. Just let her go, a part of him said. But he couldn’t do that.

“Ámbar, please! I—” He stopped and squeezed his eyes shut, cursing himself inside. “It’s not pity, I’m just… an idiot.”

Some steps ahead, Ámbar stopped, gathering she hadn’t heard that right. She turned slowly and looked at him, frowning.

“What?”

He seemed reluctant to meet her gaze, reluctant to even speak further, but he let out a sigh and did.

“I’m stupid. I really, really am because, you lied to me, you broke my heart— By all means I should hate you but… I still care about you.”

Ámbar was sure this time that she had heard him wrong. He couldn’t really mean that. But the way he averted his gaze, as if embarrassed, said otherwise.

She was stunned.

“So, as you can see, I’m the biggest idiot on this planet,” he said dejectedly. “Now, can you please just put the hoodie on?”

Simón extended his hand with his eyes lowered. He wanted to save himself the humiliation of seeing the smugness on her face after what he had just confessed. He hated himself for it. He hated to give her that satisfaction, but he couldn’t help the way he felt, and he had given up trying. He had spent all these days in Cancún trying not to think about her and it hadn’t worked. So, he had just accepted the fact that he was pathetic and carried on with his life.

Honestly, the whole current situation was pathetic. Ámbar was the one with the problem and yet, somehow, he was the one begging her to let him help.

He could almost hate her for it. Except, as he had already established, he wasn’t capable of it.

If she rejected his help this time as well though, that was it, he wasn’t going to insist anymore. He had at least some pride and self-love left. He could maybe call Miguel or something to send a car here and that way he could make sure she’d be okay without getting involved any further. In fact, that was probably what he should’ve done in the first place instead of walking back here. Why was he even—

She took it. She took the hoodie.

Simón lifted his gaze.

Ámbar slid her arms inside the hoodie, feeling his eyes on her. She pulled the zipper up to her chin and dug her frozen hands into the pockets.

The first thing she noticed was the warmth. Her body sighed as the fabric enveloped her, automatically feeling better. The second thing she noticed was that it smelled like him. It was quite obvious it would, he had been wearing it, but somehow having his smell surround her after not feeling it in so long was as much a shock to her system as the warmth against her cold body.

“Thank you,” she said, sinking herself as much as possible under the soft cotton. It was the least she could say, and the only thing she felt comfortable saying.

Simón observed her. The hoodie looked big on her, the sleeves drowning her hands and the length falling down to her thighs. It was just long enough to cover the shorts she was wearing, making it look as if she had nothing underneath.

His treacherous heart jumped against his ribcage. He shouldn’t be looking at her that way. Seeing her in his clothes shouldn’t please him so much.

He gulped and nodded slowly. “You’re welcome.”

She crossed her arms to hug herself against the cold, and the movement drew his attention to her chest. He turned away quickly.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your house,” he said, and if his voice sounded a tiny bit different than a moment ago, he counted on the sea sounds to cover it.

He was aware of the fact that just a minute ago he was going to leave her alone, but after giving her just one real look, there was no way he could do that. The hoodie served as a solution for one problem but not the other. If his mind had wandered, he knew others would too, and there was no way in hell he was going to leave her alone, walking at night, for some depraved man to harass her or worse— He’d rather die.

“I don’t wanna go there.”

Halting in his step, Simón turned to find that, indeed, Ámbar hadn’t moved from her spot.

He frowned. “Why not?”

She averted her gaze. “I just don’t.”

That wasn’t an answer, but he guessed he had no right to push it, so he just went along with it.

“Do you have anywhere else to stay?”

Ámbar considered it. “Emilia could take me in.”

Simón’s face contorted in disbelief. “Emilia? Are you really that close to that girl now?”

“No, but I prefer her.”

Why?

Simón wanted to ask but he suspected she wasn’t going to answer. He didn’t like the idea of Ámbar hanging out with that girl. Didn’t like it at all.

But that doesn’t concern you. Not anymore.

“Well, where does she live?” He asked her, swallowing his unease.

Ámbar seemed to think about it. “I’m not sure,” she admitted reluctantly. “I think I’d recognize the general area if I saw it, but I have no idea where that is.”

“Well, do you know her number? We can call her from my phone,” he offered.

“I don’t know it by memory, I need my phone.”

“Okay, and where’s your phone?”

“…At the house.”

Simón let out an exasperated sigh. “Let’s go to your house then.”

He started walking, just as he had one minute ago. Thankfully, Ámbar didn’t protest this time and just followed along, walking slightly behind him.

“Why did you leave your stuff there anyway?” Simón asked after a moment.

“I kinda left in a hurry and forgot to grab my things. I wasn’t supposed to walk that far either, I just lost track of time.”

Their steps on the sand filled the silence along with the faraway voices of people in the city.

“Why didn’t you go back to get your things?” He asked. “Why do you still don’t want to go back? It’s your house.”

“Summer house.”

“Same thing.”

Ámbar didn’t say anything. She kept staring ahead, avoiding his gaze, and for a long minute, they walked like that, in silence. She clearly didn’t want to answer his questions; she refused to open up to him at all.

He couldn’t blame her; he felt the same way. It was completely understandable after everything that happened. And he should’ve been okay with that. He should’ve been able to just leave it alone. But…

Simón stood in front of her, forcing her to a halt.

“Okay.” He offered her his hand. “Truce.”

Ámbar looked at him confusedly.

“What?”

“I said ‘Truce’. I forget for the rest of our walk how you lied to me, and you forget for the rest of our walk how mad you are at me. Deal?”

She stared at him and his outstretched hand long and hard. Her expression showed what they both knew; they couldn’t forget, not really. What had transpired between them had left a mark on both of them that wasn’t easy to ignore. She looked at him with apprehension, seemingly trying to figure out his angle, what his objective was, what he wanted to gain from a deal like this.

Simón wished there were anything to be gained. He wished any of this was in any way good for him. He wished he could convince himself to stay away.

But he was worried. Against all his better judgment and the bitter part of him that said whatever was going on with her served her right— His need to do something about it was stronger.

He had already let that petty part of him win once, when he went to see her in the dressing room after the Roda Fest. He thought he’d feel better after that. He didn’t. He thought if he did the complete opposite of comforting her, what he wanted to do deep down, he’d be able to drown that urge once and for all. He couldn’t.

Ámbar wanted to laugh scornfully at his face. You want me to forget how you told me to go fuck myself? She wanted to say. You want me to forget how I humiliated myself for you and you didn’t care at all?

But he looked honest. He really seemed willing to do it, and she didn’t understand why. If I hurt him so much, why is he doing this?

The truth of the matter was, even after everything, she never did understand him. She thought she did, but that illusion broke as easily and as fast as that dressing room’s mirror.

With this truce he was basically asking her to trust him again, even if only for a short time. Could she do that? She didn’t really want to. Scratch that— She definitely didn’t want to. She hated the sole idea; last time had ended in disaster.

But if it meant that, for just some minutes, for just one moment, he would trust her again…

You’re not the only one who’s an idiot, Simón.

Slowly, Ámbar raised her hand.

“Well, since I’ll have to put up with you anyway…” She said with detachment. She gave his hand the shortest of shakes, not wanting the touch to linger for too long. It’d just be another thing she’d miss later if she let herself have it again.

Both resumed their walk. Simón immediately spoke again, his tone gentle.

“Okay. Now, tell me, what’s wrong with that house?” He asked her. His eyes were inviting as he looked at her. It was almost how he used to look at her before, when they were friends and he consoled her.

Were we ever just friends though?

Ámbar pushed the memories away. Nothing was as before anymore. It would never be like that again. All she could do was answer honestly. At least he deserved that much.

“There’s nothing wrong with the house itself, it’s the people in it.”

He stopped short.

“If you’re just going to complain about Luna, let me tell you right now that I won’t—”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not just that!”

Great, they had lasted five seconds without fighting. Why did she think it’d be different?

“Not just that?” Simón volleyed back with indignation. “What has Luna even done to you?”

She raised her brows and gave him a look. “Do you want me to make a list?”

He tossed his hands up and dropped them, starting to walk again. “Enlighten me.”

Ámbar put up a finger as she moved to fall in step with him. “First, she invaded my house.”

“That was not her decision, she had to move with her parents,” he retorted quickly.

She put up a second finger. “Then, she invaded my school.”

“Again, not her decision.”

“Then, she stole my boyfriend.”

“That—” He closed his mouth before starting again. “Matteo was the one who went after her.”

She glared at him. “I’m quite aware of that fact, thank you for reminding me.”

Simón winced. He guessed it must not have been nice to watch her boyfriend pursuing another girl. Matteo wasn’t even subtle in his interest in Luna.

“It doesn’t erase the fact that if she hadn’t arrived, Matteo wouldn’t have done that,” Ámbar continued.

“Well, if anything, it shows the kind of person Matteo is, not Luna,” Simón argued. “She only started dating him when you two had broken up for good.”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s a saint.” Ámbar rolled her eyes and counted more. “She also invaded my rink, stole my spot on the team, brainwashed everyone so they would love her, invaded my stage—”

“Luna has loved rollerskating since I know her. Of course she was going to go to the Jam & Roller, that place was like paradise for her. And she needed a place like that if she was going to be in a completely different country with completely different people. It’s not easy to just jump on a plane and start your life anew in a new place you’ve never known before, surrounded by strangers. So excuse her if she started making friends and participating in stuff. It was her way to fit in and get along with everyone. Otherwise, she would’ve been alone.”

The bite in his voice made Ámbar pause. Somehow, throughout his speech, she felt like Simón had stopped talking about just Luna. The tightness in his jaw, the way his gaze had focused on the road ahead instead of her… Yeah, this wasn’t just about Luna.

Suddenly, she realized that Simón had been pretty much in the same situation as Luna. He had arrived in a new country and stayed at her house (albeit secretly), had started frequenting the Jam & Roller and joined her skating team… The only difference was that he hadn’t enrolled in her school.

But while Luna had her parents, Simón didn’t have anyone when he arrived. Except for Luna. Luna who chose Matteo.

Why hadn’t she realized all of this before?

Because he never showed he was anything but alright.

Sure, everyone could see the kicked puppy eyes he threw Luna’s way, but other than that heartbreak, he was always all smiles and excited energy.

Just how lonely had he been?

Simón returned his gaze back to Ámbar. Many seconds had passed, and she still hadn’t screamed at him to stop defending Luna or something like that as he had expected her to do. His eyes connected with hers for an instant, but she quickly looked away, setting her gaze on her feet as she remained quiet.

“What, that’s it? That was your list?” He couldn’t help but ask. Maybe it was bitter of him, but he was just so tired of Ámbar’s bad blood with Luna, especially when Luna had never done anything to deserve it. Excluding the Matteo thing, all her reasons to hate her were so damn superficial he felt like shaking her. It was unfair and ridiculous.

“Or what are you gonna tell me now? That Luna made Tamara leave?” He said with irony when the silence continued. “That she brought Juliana to the Roller? She made winter colder? Made split ends appear in your hair?”

“She made my godmother leave.”

Simón’s feet slowly came to a stop. All humor and annoyance drained from him as he watched her.

“Ámbar…”

“I know,” she said, looking away. “You don’t need to tell me.”

She knew what her godmother had done was wrong and probably illegal. She didn’t need to be reminded of that whole mess. She spent every day trying to forget how she’d just left with barely a goodbye to her.

“Do you know where she is?” Simón asked after a pause, his tone gentle. It was mostly out of curiosity really, and because he could sense this was an important topic for her, a painful one.

“No,” Ámbar replied. “She hasn’t contacted me since— and even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you,” she said curtly, her eyes fiery as they met his. “You would probably run to tell the Valentes and they would call the cops on her to get her arrested.”

Simón swallowed the jab in his heart at seeing the distrust in her gaze. The spark of anger, the cloud of sorrow…

So this is what we’ve come to…

“Ámbar, I don’t think they would do that,” he replied, focusing on them instead of him, even when what he really wanted to say was that he wouldn’t do that to her.

“No?” She lifted her eyebrows with incredulity. “And what do you suppose they’d do? Sit down to have a nice quiet dinner with her and reminisce about old times?”

“Of course not,” he retorted, a little annoyed at her ironic tone. “What she did was wrong; she tried to keep Luna from finding out who she is, from reuniting with her grandfather and getting what’s rightfully hers. But she’s still family,” he said. “I don’t think Mr. Alfredo wishes her harm. I think he even misses her.”

Ámbar snorted sarcastically and averted her gaze. “No one in that house misses her.”

Simón observed her— Her crossed arms, her grim expression, her eyes looking at nothing.

“… You miss her. Don’t you?”

Ámbar flinched and turned further away from him, facing the waves instead.

“I’m mad at her,” she replied, her voice sharp and filled with resentment. “She lied to me. She told me I was Sol Benson, made me believe that, and then when everything came crashing down, she just ran away. She abandoned me.”

And yet you still miss her.

Simón could relate to that. Missing something, someone, even though you know it’s not good for you.

“… Well, what could she do?” He said. “Aside from facing the consequences of her actions, of course. It’s not like she could’ve taken you with her if she was going to be on the run.”

“I would’ve gone with her,” Ámbar said immediately.

That was what she had wanted. She wanted to be away from here, from Buenos Aires, from everything. She wanted to leave her past behind and start anew with her godmother somewhere else where there would be no Lunas, no Valentes, no heartbreaks. She had spent all these days in Cancún thinking that it would’ve been better if Sharon had just taken her with her.

Simón didn’t seem to agree though.

“Ámbar, that’s crazy!” He said, positively looking at her as if she had lost her mind. “You don’t know what she would’ve done to you. You said it yourself, she lied to you about who you are! And you don’t know where she would’ve taken you. Your whole life is here. Your family’s here, your friends are here—”

“Family?” She turned to him. “Friends? I have no one, Simón!” She exclaimed, feeling the cracks inside of her grow bigger. That sad truth that had been hunting her for weeks. “My godmother abandoned me. Alfredo doesn’t even know I exist anymore. Ever since he found out that Luna is the real Sol Benson, he totally forgot about me. The Valentes aren’t my family, Luna definitely isn’t my family nor do I want her to be, and everyone who used to be my friend turned their backs on me.”

“Well, that one was your fault, if you hadn’t burned down the rink—”

“IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!!!”

Simón flinched back, staring at her wide-eyed.

But Ámbar didn’t care if she looked crazy, she didn’t care if she scared him, she didn’t care what he thought— She was done with everything.

“How many times do I have to say that until SOMEONE believes me?! No— You know what? Forget it. Whatever!” She threw her arms to the sky. “You wanna believe I’m an arsonist? Perfect, go ahead. You wanna believe I purposely burned down the only place in which I’ve ever felt like I’m worth something? Be my fucking guest. A fuck ton of other shit that I did do and I admit, but of course everyone would hate me for the one thing I didn’t mean to do! It’s just my fucking luck.”

“Ámba—”

“And I guess it’s also my fault that I’m not Sol Benson. I should’ve just been born out of Bernie and Lily, how silly of me to have been born out of some stupid teenage girl who never heard of what a freaking condom was and gave me up to Sharon because she didn’t have a penny to raise me!” She advanced towards him, making Simón take a step back. “You don’t wanna believe the fire was an accident? I WAS A FUCKING ACCIDENT! MY WHOLE FUCKING LIFE WAS A FUCKING ACCIDENT! IF THE WORLD GOT ITS WAY, I WOULDN’T EVEN HAVE BEEN BORN. HOW HAPPY EVERYONE WOULD’VE BEEN THEN, RIGHT?!”

She shoved against his shoulder and sprinted away, leaving Simón stunned. His mind was reeling, his heart pounding. He couldn’t process everything.

But his body reacted. He ran after her without thinking, because he didn’t need to think it through— He just had to do one thing.

Catch her.

“Ámbar!”

He caught her arm, forcing her to stop.

“Let me go,” she said, trying to pull her arm free but he held on to her wrist tightly. He pulled her toward him and she started fighting, trying to break free with all her might. “I said let me go, Simón!”

Simón brought his other arm around her and pressed her against him firmly. “I’m not going to let you go."

Ámbar continued to struggle, trying to break away to no avail.

“Let me go!” She yelled in distress, smacking and pushing him with her free hand. “I hate you! I hate everyone! I hate-e—”

Her voice broke, and with it, all her will to fight.

Ámbar dug her face on his chest and her fingers clutched the material of his tank top as a loud wail tore out her throat and she burst into tears.

Simón let go of her wrist and wrapped both arms around her, holding her as her body shook with sobs and his skin got damped from her crying. Ámbar’s arms slid around him and Simón felt her cling to him just as hard as she had tried to pull away before.

It was a cry filled with anguish; loud and desperate. Tears gathered in Simón’s own eyes. Every little sound that came out of Ámbar’s throat seemed to tear him apart.

“Shhh… Easy, bonita, easy,” he murmured, caressing her back softly as his other hand cradled her head. “I don’t ever want to hear you say anything like that again, okay? I don’t want you to think it either. No one would be happier without you, Ámbar. Mr. Alfredo loves you like a grandchild, I know he does. He mentions you a lot. You’re not there to hear it, but I have. He worries about you being out of the house so much.”

A hard sob made Simón hold her tighter, wishing he could extinguish her pain with his arms.

“Delfi and Jazmín are angry right now but I’m sure they don’t hate you. You’ve been friends for years, that doesn’t go away from one day to another. The rest of the guys are mad too but I’m sure they would forgive you if you apologize. Mónica and Miguel could be your family if you let them. Hell— even Luna wouldn’t be happier without you, Ámbar. Who’d compete with her, huh? Who is a better skater than you, a better singer than you, to push her to be better? I know she annoys you, but I think she pushes you to be better too, doesn’t she?”

Gradually, Ámbar’s crying was easing down. Simón gently caressed her hair, beckoning calm to come back. “I’m sure your mom loves you as well.” He felt her tense up, but he kept going, knowing she needed to hear this. “That’s why she gave you to Sharon. She wanted you to have a better life; a good one. I’m sure she doesn’t regret having you. I mean, a girl as talented as you? Who could regret that?”

Ámbar let out a couple more sobs and then they left her, leaving just ragged breaths in their place that shook her from time to time. Simón could feel her breath against his skin, warm as the tears she spilled, but they became fewer and fewer. Her hands slid down his back, and it was like they pulled the words out of his mouth before he could think if he should say them or not.

“And I don’t regret meeting you. I don’t regret skating with you, singing with you, falling for you… even after everything that happened. So, please, don’t say those things, Ámbar.”

Finally, after what felt like a shredder to his very soul, Ámbar calmed down. Her chest rose and fell steadily against his and no more tears fell down. They stayed like that for a while— how long, Simón did not know, only that by the end of it their breathings seemed to have synchronized. Slowly, Ámbar started pulling away, and Simón felt the sudden, irrational urge to bring her back into his arms and keep her there forever, but he reigned it in and let her go.

Ámbar wiped at her eyes and sniffed, erasing the leftovers of her crying as much as she could, but there was nothing she could do about her reddened eyes. Looking at her, Simón felt a need to protect so strong that it hurt.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked her softly, hoping that the shake he felt inside didn’t show in his voice.

Ámbar’s eyes shyly found Simón’s before moving away. Not trusting her voice yet, she nodded.

She was embarrassed. She had never broken down like that in front of anyone. Hell, she had never broken down like that, period. She felt like she had cried for every misfortune in her life in one go. She wanted to berate herself for it, for letting herself break down, especially in front of someone, but she didn’t have the energy. If she had been alone like all those times in her bedroom, she probably would’ve been able to hold it in. But with Simón holding her, she just…

Still not meeting his eyes, she checked him over. There was a wet stain of tears, smeared makeup and maybe what else that she had left on his tank top and she was sure a lot of his skin had gotten wet too. It didn’t seem to bother him, but then again, he was too nice to complain about it. Even if it was her.

Simón’s hands moved to her upper arms gently and rubbed a little up and down.

“Is it alright if we keep going?” He asked in that same soft voice he had used before. A part of her hated it and the look on his face; rebelled against the idea of him thinking her a fragile crystal thing. But the bigger, more honest part of herself wanted to reach out to that softness and wrap herself in it like a blanket. “I just think that the sooner you get inside your house, the better. I don’t want you to get sick.”

Again, she only nodded, not having the strength to fight anymore, not having the guts to say she wanted to stay with him a little bit longer.

For a moment, it looked like he might take her hand, but then he seemed to think better of it and dug both his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

She would’ve taken his hand.

She felt embarrassed again. She was so weak when it came to him.

Ámbar crossed her arms, both from the cold and from all the things that were swirling inside of her. They walked like that for some time, just the sound of the waves touching the shore and some people walking down the street filling the silence.

“I would recommend you stay in the house too,” Simón told her. “I know you were meaning to just grab your stuff and go to Emilia’s, but I think it’d be better if you took a warm bath, got rid of all the sand... and ate something, because I don’t know when was the last time you did.” He watched her attentively, searching for any reaction to his words. “Maybe have dinner with everyone some of these days?” He proposed tentatively. “Like I said, Alfredo misses you.”

Ámbar didn’t answer or looked his way. She just kept walking ahead with her eyes fixed on the ground and her hands tucked under her crossed arms. Simón was at least glad that she didn’t seem to be crying anymore, but she didn’t look fine either. Given the circumstances though, he guessed it was too much to ask for her to be.

He considered trying to strike up more conversation but chose against it. Maybe silence was good. A lot of things had been said already; surely it was enough for one night. For many nights. Ámbar probably wanted to be left alone now, not pestered with questions or small talk. Maybe she wouldn’t even want to see him again after this.

From her demeanor, he couldn’t tell if she was just lost in thought or mad at him. She clearly hadn’t wanted to cry and he kind of forced her into it; he could understand if she was mad about that. Ámbar wasn’t good at vulnerable. Maybe just the reminder of it would make her want to run and so she’d avoid him like the plague. Simón would understand that too. But nothing would be able to stop him from worrying and wondering how she was. He didn’t even know how he’d be able to fall asleep tonight.

Finally, the wide entrance to the mansion could be seen ahead, the orange ceilings of the structure standing tall against the dark of the night, almost blending together. Simón knew Ámbar didn’t have her keys with her but surely the doorman would let her in, so it was alright. Should he come in too? A part of him wanted to tuck her in himself, but he knew that was ridiculous. No, he’d just stay at the entrance until she got to the door and—

“Simón?”

He turned at the sound of Ámbar’s voice and found her behind him, some steps away. She must have stopped walking at some point without him noticing, too lost in his thoughts.

He didn’t know what it was exactly that he saw in her gaze at that moment; only that it rooted him in place. It didn’t last more than a couple seconds, it couldn’t have, because in an instant Ámbar was running to him, holding his face, and kissing his mouth.

Simón’s eyes closed on instinct, but everything else froze up. His breath caught in his throat at the feel of her lips on his, a little chapped from the sea’s breeze but still soft. She was kissing him firmly, with a taste of urgency or some deep-rooted need.

Either way, he hadto pull away. This was wrong. He had to pull away.

But when she started to part, he didn’t let her. All of his senses rebelled against her retreat. His hands grabbed her waist, pressed her against him, and he kissed her back, so hard, so full of desperation, that it felt like a plea.

Don’t go.

He didn’t need to pull away, he didn’t need to stop this— He needed her.

Please don’t go.

Ámbar’s mouth moved against his with renewed confidence, rekindled fire. Her arms wrapped around his neck, bringing them even closer. Simón let out a sound and let his hands relearn her. He had missed her hair, her shape, the slide of her lips, the taste of her mouth. Missed the way they seemed to fit, the warmth of her touch as her hands ran over him, the way she seemed delicate but her hold was strong and sure, electrifying, just like her presence in any room.

Nothing else mattered right now or even registered in his brain. Nothing was important, not even breathing, only this. Only her tongue against his, her scent mixed with the salt of the sea, the feeling of her body against his, and the little gasps she took in before he smothered them out.

They had never kissed like this before. The few kisses they’d shared had been unhurried, soft, because they had all the time in the world.

They thought they had all the time in the world.

Now their kiss was ravenous, frantic, burning, with both of them trying to consume the other. Her fingers tugged at his hair. Simón tried and failed to get enough of her mouth. He was gripping her so tight that he would wonder if it hurt if she hadn’t been holding him just as hard. It was like they wanted to fuse into one so they’d never have to part again.

But the burn in their lungs was too strong for them to keep fighting it forever.

They broke apart just enough to draw in some air. They were both breathing hard and trembling from the aftershock of sensations. For a moment, that was all they did— hold each other and try to keep their hearts on their chests.

Simón opened his eyes and found Ámbar’s— Beautiful, dilated, and yet, so very melancholic.

She moved, bringing a hand to the side of his face. Her thumb caressed his cheek.

“Thank you,” she said, softly. She lowered her hand. “Goodbye.”

Just like that, she separated from his arms and walked away, leaving nothing but air where she once stood.

It was the first time in the entire night that Simón felt cold.

He turned to watch her cross the fence and walk toward the mansion. The front door closed behind her. Ámbar didn’t look back once.

Simón understood what that meant.

This had been their final goodbye, the closure they hadn’t gotten to have because of all the drama that had surrounded their end.

Now their walk was over, and with it the truce they had put on, like one final performance before the curtain closed on what was once them.

There was no ‘them’ anymore.

Staring at the mansion, Simón wondered why it hurt so much.

-------------

His keys rattled as he opened the door and walked inside his house. His mom, sitting at the living room table with a cup of tea in front of her, greeted him back.

“Didn’t you have a hoodie?” She asked him.

Simón looked down at himself. Considering how things had left off, he doubted Ámbar would approach him again.

“I… must have left it somewhere.”

“You lost it, you mean.” Her mother shook her head, with that blend of exasperated fondness only mothers seemed to have. “You airhead. You’re hopeless.”

Flashbacks of the night ran through his mind. Simón went up to his room.

“…Yeah. I guess so.”

…

--------------------

We can play the game 'How many references to songs and other things can I put in one chapter?' I don't know the answer but I think I outdid myself with this one.

#simbar #simbar fic #soy luna #soy luna fanfiction #simbar fanfic #My Writing #cruel summer #I dedicate this to Rae and Chiara just because I love them <3 #I ACTUALLY MEAN IT THIS TIME WHEN I SAY THIS WILL BE SHORT #THERE WON'T BE 40 CHAPTERS- I HAVE THE DRAFTS- IT'S DONE

36 notes · View notes

tev-the-random · 2 years

Text

Emptober Day 3 - Novel

Xornoth wasn’t one for big festivities. Saying the heir of Rivendell was a good liar wasn’t perhaps the most flattering of statements, but at the very least it meant they could be as graceful as an elf of their status should be on important occasions, even when there was nothing they wanted more than to run away. More specifically, it meant they could host this year’s Winter Fest and be very pleasant about it, as their parents requested.

It didn’t mean, however, that they liked it. As the day went on, more and more demands came in. If the festival was to be acceptable, then the preparations had to be perfect, so Xornoth allowed stress to accumulate inside of them like stacks of TNT. They were a good liar, yes, but no amount of fake smiles and soft speaking would save them from the horrible headache that would build up if these explosives weren’t defused before nightfall.

If they were to participate in the festivities without having a potential breakdown at the end of the day, they needed some time to themself.

As expected from someone their age — at least, it would be if they were human. But as an elf, they still had essentially eternity to subvert expectations, — one of their favourite ways to wind down was reading. They loved the silence, the stimulus that stories provided for their imagination, the possibility of entering a world where their parents didn’t look at them the way they did and responsibilities didn’t pile up only to feel so ungratifying and pointless. Or maybe they just liked the atmosphere of the library, they weren’t sure.

‘There you are!’

Xornoth looked up from their book. Scott tracked snow into the Elven Library and somehow dared to look innocent about it. At least they knew they didn’t need to be overly polite to their brother, and for that, they were grateful to have him.

After shaking the water out of his wings, Scott approached them. He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly closed it again, as if they had interrupted him. His eyes fell on the tome Xornoth read, and the curious stare he gave it reminded them of why they weren’t so grateful right now.

‘What are you reading?’

‘A book.’

They returned their gaze to the page to try and find what line they were on before being so inconsequentially interrupted.

‘You don’t say?’ Scott’s sarcasm leaked into his smirk as he rolled his eyes. The youngest elf reached for the book in his brother’s hands and slightly tilted it to read the cover. To his increasing curiosity, it was blank. ‘And what’s it about?’

‘Stuff.’

They turned the page.

‘What kind of stuff?’

‘None of your business.’ They tried to remain impassive.

The candle sat beside them flickered when Scott came closer. He leaned over to take a peek at what they were reading, only for them to immediately close the volume.

‘Do you mind?’

‘I’m just curious!’ The prince stepped back to cross his arms, squinting at his brother in that inquisitive way of his. ‘What’s that, another one of your dark magic manuscripts?’

‘No.’ Those were stashed away under a floorboard in their room; you know, for academic purposes.

They reopened the book in an attempt to resume their relaxing reading time, even though they knew it would be futile. ‘It’s just a novel,’ they added.

‘It must be pretty interesting if you’re so moody about it,’ Scott said with another pinch of sarcasm. He had been full of that for the past decade or so, and Xornoth couldn’t help but wonder if that was just a younger brother thing. ‘Remind me to borrow it when you’re done, then. You’ve got me intrigued n-’

‘No.’

He blinked at them.

‘Wha- why not? Are you gatekeeping the library books now?’ He almost managed to sound offended. To be honest, Scott wasn��t really into the thick titles his brother was so fond of. But their speed at cutting him off only prodded his interest further.

‘It’s not a library book. It’s mine.’

Xornoth turned another page. Scott raised his eyebrows.

‘Oh my goodness, it really is one of the dark magic books-’

‘You talk as if I’m an evil wizard or something. Can’t I just like things?’ The eldest elf let out a languished sigh, then raised their eyes again. ‘I’m sorry, I’m... I’m tired, okay? Can you just leave me be, for once?’

‘Jesus, Xorny, I was joking!’ Scott raised his hands in a makeshift apology.

Looking around the ancient library and trying to find a way to lighten the mood, he commented, ‘Why don’t you read it at home then? Like, if the book is yours, why come all the way out here to read it?’

‘Because,’ they brought their knees close to their chest and rested the book on them, struggling to feel comfortable again now that their whole vibe was ruined. ‘I wanted a little bit of privacy and silence. But it seems like that was too much to ask!’

Once they found a good enough position, Xornoth buried their face in the novel once more. They groaned: they lost track of where they were. Again.

‘Silence I can understand, but privacy? To read a book?’

They didn’t answer.

‘Do you cry reading stories, is that what it is? Because that’s alright, honestly. I cry watching plays sometimes.’

No response.

He frowned.

The heir of Rivendell would have been satisfied if the conversation ended there. But the silence didn’t last long. With tentative steps, Scott approached again and, without warning, snatched the book from their hands.

‘HEY!’

The candle almost got knocked down as they jumped from their seat. A wrestling match began between the two brothers, Scott keeping the novel out of reach, Xornoth stretching to take it back. Though the youngest wasn’t as tall or as strong as his sibling, he was definitely more agile; he dodged their attempts at holding him down and scurried away to the far end of the room.

In the short amount of time he managed to buy, the elven prince opened the ever so mysterious tome on a random page. But as his eyes skimmed through the paragraphs and the words got burned into his retinas, he almost regretted his actions. Almost.

‘What in the-’

Catching up to him, Xornoth seized the novel from his grasp. Their face was flushed, — from both anger and embarrassment — and they cradled the book in their arms with great protectiveness.

An awkward silence stretched between the two for a few seconds, only broken when Scott began to snicker.

‘Wooow-’

‘Don’t you dare-’

‘I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff!’ He teased.

‘I-I’m not!’ They stuttered. Their grip on the book got stronger as they shrunk into themself, trying to hide it. ‘The story’s just- the plot is really interesting, okay?’

‘Oh, I’m sure it is. Very productive of your highness as well! You should let mum borrow it, see if she also likes the story-’

It’s not like Scott enjoyed his brother’s suffering. But as a younger sibling, he had a moral obligation to hold any kind of compromising information close to his chest. It was the loving kind of mockery, of course; he probably would forget about it in a week or two, right? Still, the sound that came out of Xornoth resembled so much that of a kettle on the stove that he feared the eldest would actually combust if he made any further comment.

So, in a display of mercy, he changed the subject for the time being.

‘Oh yeah, speaking of mum, she was looking for you.’

‘What for?’ Xornoth tried to calm themself, but aside from reaching a firmer tone of voice, they could do nothing if not try to hide their face. Maybe if they tried hard enough, they could sink into the ground and disappear.

‘Winter Fest’s starting soon, she was getting kinda worried abou-’

‘What?’ Their firmness disappeared once more. ‘What time is it?’

‘I dunno, the sun was starting to set when I got here.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?!’

Had they gotten too engrossed in the pages? Their little down time was only supposed to last an hour at most, how could time go by so fast? But indeed, as they came to the entrance of the library, they could see that sunset bathed Rivendell’s snowy grounds through the windows.

‘Exor strike me down, fuck-’

Xornoth scrambled to pick up their cape and, without another glance at their brother, — who could count himself lucky for not being in the path of their panic — flew out of the Elven Library like a bullet.

Scott was about to follow suit when he remembered something.

Back to the spot where Xornoth had been reading, he blew out their candle. Better not set fire to the place; they already had enough problems. No, he was sure the only thing they would be setting fire to was that novel as soon as the festival was over.

Curiously, it was the only thing of theirs that never got burnt.

#you can interpret whatever Xornoth was reading however you like #I'm not giving context #It can range anywhere from elven MLP fanfiction to some extreme horror-#this was somehow the first thing that came to my mind for this prompt #I don't know how or why #but I thought I could use a funny little fic so that works #I love how pre-corruption Xornoth is a blank canvas #Emptober #Inktober #Day 3: novel #Empires SMP #Scott Smajor #dangthatsalongname #Xornoth #mcyt #Empiresblr #Word count: over 1000 #(But somehow not over 2k??)#Reblog

12 notes · View notes

dweemeister · 1 year

Text

2022 Movie Odyssey

Well, it’s another record set for the the latest date that this list has ever appeared. As per tradition on this blog, this is the complete list of films I saw for the first time in their entirety over the last calendar year. They are listed in the order of completion and with a respective rating out of ten from me. Each rating (my ratings system and eligibility rules are explained here) is based on my personal imdb rating. All half-points are rounded down.

March was defined entirely by my blog’s annual 31 Days of Oscar marathon (in which I limit myself to watching films nominated for an Academy Award or Honorary Academy Award winning films). June and early July were defined almost entirely by viewing submissions for Viet Film Fest - which contributed heavily to the amount of short films (one will notice tons of MGM short films and Popeye as well; the latter I believe I will be completing later in 2023) seen this year.

In sum, I saw 207 films that were new to me in 2021 (a sharp decline from 329 in 2021). 116 of those were features (films defined as forty-one minutes or longer); 91 were short films (forty minutes or shorter). My yearly goal to watch more pre-1980 films than 1980 and after - so as to ensure that I my viewing habits are well-rounded, chronologically - failed for the first time in at least eleven years. Among features, I saw six more features released 1980 and after. Adding both features and shorts, the deficit was nineteen. My professional situation in the second half of the year did not help matters.

What follows is the entire list of the 2022 Movie Odyssey:

JANUARY

The Fly’s Last Flight (1949 short) – 6/10

All Dogs Go to Heaven (1989) – 7.5/10

Hilda and Mountain King (2021) – 7/10

Babes in Toyland (1961) – 6/10

Sidewalk Stories (1989) – 8.5/10

The Donut King (2020) – 7.5/10

The Tragedy of Macbeth (2021) – 9.5/10

Baby Wants Spinach (1950 short) – 6/10

Chicana (1979 short) – 6/10

Start Cheering (1938) – 6/10

Ladies of the Chorus (1949) – 6.5/10

Drive My Car (2021, Japan) – 10/10

Belle (2021, Japan) – 6/10

La bestia debe morir (The Beast Must Die) (1952, Argentina) – 9.5/10

The Stork’s Holiday (1943 short) – 5/10

Beach Peach (1950 short) – 6/10

American Revolution 2 (1969) – 6/10

The Murder of Fred Hampton (1971) – 8/10

Big Fella (1937) – 5.5/10

What Price Fleadom (1948 short) – 6/10

A Hero (2021, Iran) – 7.5/10

Nightmare Alley (1947) – 9/10

Flee (2021) – 8.5/10

One Ham’s Family (1943 short) – 6/10

FEBRUARY

Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday (1953, France) – 7.5/10

The Doll (1919, Germany) – 9/10

Father Goose (1964) – 7/10

Death on the Nile (2022) – 6/10

MARCH (31 Days of Oscar)

Audible (2021 short) – 8/10

When We Were Bullies (2021 short) – 6/10

On My Mind (2021 short, Denmark) – 6.5/10

Please Hold (2020 short) – 8/10

The Dress (2020 short, Poland) – 7.5/10

The Long Goodbye (2020 short) – 6/10

Ala Kachuu – Take and Run (2020 short, Switzerland/Kyrgyzstan) – 8/10

Winter on Fire: Ukraine’s Fight for Freedom (2015, Ukraine) – 7.5/10

Gentleman’s Agreement (1947) – 7/10

Three Songs for Benazir (2021 short, Afghanistan) – 7.5/10

Lead Me Home (2021 short) – 7/10

The Queen of Basketball (2021 short) – 8.5/10

A Mighty Wind (2003) – 7/10

The Ladykillers (1955) – 9.5/10

A Patch of Blue (1965) – 9/10

Robin Robin (2021 short) – 8.5/10

Boxballet (2020 short) – 7.5/10

Affairs of the Art (2021 short) – 6.5/10

Bestia (2021 short, Chile) – 8/10

The Windshield Wiper (2021 short) – 7/10

Nightmare Alley (2021) – 7/10

Midnight Express (1978) – 6/10

Don’t Look Up (2021) – 4/10

The Power of the Dog (2021) – 8.5/10

CODA (2021) – 7/10

Drums Along the Mohawk (1939) – 6.5/10

King Richard (2021) – 7.5/10

Loves of a Blonde (1965, Czechoslovakia) – 8/10

APRIL

Love Me or Leave Me (1955) – 6.5/10

The Batman (2022) – 8/10

Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022) – 8.5/10

Mahapurush (The Holy Man) (1965, India) – 6/10

Penny Serenade (1941) – 7.5/10

The Proud Valley (1940) – 7/10

The Oyster Princess (1919, Germany) – 7.5/10

When the Cat’s Away (1935 short) – 6/10

Turning Red (2022) – 7/10

Bull Durham (1988) – 7/10

Pillow Talk (1959) – 8/10

The Ancestral (2022, Vietnam) – 4/10

Saturday Night and Sunday Morning (1960) – 8/10

Anaïs in Love (2021, France) – 6/10

MAY (VFF submissions marked with asterisk)

Time After Time (1979) – 7/10

Memoria (2021, Colombia) – 7/10

An Inn in Tokyo (1935, Japan) – 7.5/10

Lady on a Train (1945) – 6/10

Petite Maman (2021, France) – 9/10

Gym Jam (1950 short) – 6/10

How Green is My Spinach (1950 short) – 7/10

Bi, Don’t Be Afraid (Bi, đừng sợ!) (2010, Vietnam) – 6/10

Jitterbug Jive (1950 short) – 6/10

Popeye Makes a Movie (1950 short) – 5/10

Footy Legends (2006) – 7/10

Ganashatru (An Enemy of the People (1989, India) – 7/10

Quick on the Vigor (1950 short) – 6/10

Rio in Rhythm (1950 short) – 8/10

Let’s Stalk Spinach (1951 short) – 6/10

Container (2021 short, Canada) – 8/10*

Free Your Mind (2021 short) – experimental film; score withheld*

Why Am I Still Alive? (2019 short, Canada) – 6.5/10*

No Man of Her Own (1950) – 7.5/10

Double-Cross Country Race (1951 short) – 5.5/10

The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas (1982) – 7/10

Alpine for You (1951 short) – 6.5/10

The Farmer and the Belle (1950 short) – 6/10

Punch and Judo (1951 short) – 7/10

Thrill of Fair (1951 short) – 6/10

Antonio Gaudí (1984) – 6.5/10

Go for Broke! (1951) – 6.5/10

Spellbound (2002) – 7/10

JUNE

Gomenasai (2022 short) – score withheld*

Love, Laugh, Doom, Tears (2021 short) – 6.5/10*

Fortune Favors Lady Nikuko (2021, Japan) – 6.5/10

ALETHEIA (2022 short) – 6/10*

Vacation with Play (1951 short) – 6/10

good enough (2021 short) – 6/10*

Granny Boot Camp (2022 short) – 7/10*

Closing Time (2021 short) – 4/10*

A Realm of Return (2020, Canada) – 6/10*

Trespasser (2022 short) – 6/10*

Cà Phê 179 (2021 short, Canada) – 5/10*

Mabel (2022 short) – 7/10*

A Crack in the Mountain (2022) – 8/10*

Luv, Me (2021 short) – 7/10*

All I Ever Wanted (2021 short) – 7/10*

Exposed (2020 short) – 6/10*

Project Lullaby: CHOICE (2021 short) – experimental film; score withheld*

MiMi (2022 short, Vietnam) – 6.5/10*

Monkey in the Middle (2022 short, Vietnam) – 6/10*

Crouching Comic (2021 short) – 7/10*

Niềm đam mê (La passion) (2021 short, France) – 7/10*

Spring Roll Dream (2022 short, United Kingdom) – 8/10*

Me (Mom) (2019 short) – 7/10*

After Taste (2022 short, Vietnam) – 5.5/10*

Popeye’s Pappy (1952 short) – 5/10

Lightyear (2022) – 6/10

Friend or Phony (1952 short) – 5/10

Iris (2022 short) – 7/10*

Stinkfrucht (Taste of Home) (2022 short, Germany) – 8/10*

The Greatest Poem (2022 short) – 7/10*

Breakdown (2022 short) – 6/10*

Thuy & T. (2021 short) – experimental film; score withheld*

Talk to Me (2022 short) – 7/10*

Places and Times (2022 short) – 7/10*

It Was Time to Reconnect (2022 short) – 6/10*

The Aberrant (2022 short) – 6/10*

Thunderclouds (2022 short) – 7/10*

Fourth Block (2022 short) – 6.5/10*

My Mother’s Daughter (2022 short) – 7/10*

Mai Tell-Tale (2022 short) – 5/10*

Đêm Tối Rực Rỡ! (The Brilliant Darkness!) (2022, Vietnam) – 6.5/10*

Elvis (2022) – 6.5/10

Big Bad Sindbad (1952 short) – 5/10

Once Upon a Bridge in Vietnam (2022, France) – 6/10*

Buffalo Boy (2004, Vietnam) – 7.5/10

The Wiz (1978) – 6/10

Maika (2022, Vietnam) – 6.5/10*

Jimmy in Saigon (2022) – 7/10*

JULY

Memento Mori: Earth (2022, Vietnam) – 7.5/10*

Children of the Mist (2021, Vietnam) – 8/10*

Side Seeing: The Movie (2022, Vietnam) – 4/10*

Camouflage – Vietnamese Brush Strokes with History (2018) – 6/10*

Tiệc Trăng Máu (Blood Moon Party) (2020, Vietnam) – 7/10*

The Rescuers (1977) – 6/10

My Vietnam (2022) – 4/10*

Memoryland (2021, Vietnam) – 6.5/10*

Popalong Popeye (1952 short) – 6/10

The Black Cauldron (1985) – 4/10

Nope (2022) – 7/10

Shuteye Popeye (1952 short) – 6/10

Swimmer Take All (1952 short) – 6/10

Tots of Fun (1952 short) – 7/10

Oliver & Company (1988) – 5/10

AUGUST

The Rescuers Down Under (1990) – 6/10

The Prince and the Pauper (1990 short) – 6/10

The Gang’s All Here (1943) – 6/10

The Ballad of Cable Hogue (1970) – 7.5/10

Three Women (1924) – 6/10

SEPTEMBER

Three Thousand Years of Longing (2022) – 7/10

Pressure Point (1962) – 6/10

See How They Run (2022) – 7/10

The Woman King (2022) – 7/10

OCTOBER

A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court (1949) – 6/10

Babes in Arms (1939) – 6/10

Meet Danny Wilson (1952) – 6/10

The Scapular (1968, Mexico) – 7.5/10

Misterios de ultratumba (Black Pit of Dr. M) (1959, Mexico) – 7/10

The Masque of Red Death (1964) – 7/10

Two Boobs in a Balloon (1935 short) – 6.5/10

Nut Guilty (1936 short) – 6/10

The Red House (1947) – 7/10

NOVEMBER

El vampiro negro (1953, Argentina) – 7.5/10

Minnie the Moocher (1942 short) – 7/10

9 to 5 (1980) – 7.5/10

The World at Their Feet (1970) – 7.5/10

The Grandmother (1970 short) – experimental film; score withheld

Le Million (1931, France) – 7.5/10

Two Billion Hearts (1995) – 7/10

Ancient Fistory (1953 short) – 6/10

The Fabelmans (2022) – 8/10

Shaving Muggs (1953 short) – 6/10

Baby Wants a Bottle (1953 short) – 6/10

Johnny Guitar (1954) – 7/10

Glass Onion (2022) – 7.5/10

Popeye, the Ace of Space (1953) – 6/10

Island in the Sun (1957) – 6/10

DECEMBER

The Banshees of Inisherin (2022) – 8/10

Firemen’s Brawl (1953 short) – 6/10

Popeye’s Mirthday (1953 short) – 6/10

Toreadorable (1953 short) – 5/10

Bride and Gloom (1954 short) – 5/10

Fright to the Finish (1954 short) – 7/10

Greek Mirthology (1954 short – 6/10

Popeye’s 20th Anniversary (1954 short) – 5/10

Private Eye Popeye (1954 short) – 6/10

Taxi-Turvy (1954 short) – 6/10

A Job for a Gob (1955 short) – 6/10

Mister and Mistletoe (1955 short) – 6/10

Avatar: The Way of Water (2022) – 7.5/10

So closes out, finally, the 2022 Movie Odyssey. Thanks to you all for being a part, whichever ways large or small, of it.

#My Movie Odyssey

2 notes · View notes

alpinefitco · 1 year

Text

How To Layer for Running and Hiking in Spring Weather

Spring is upon us, as they say, and it’s time to shift gears. Up here in Alaska the temperatures transition above freezing and we wait for ‘breakup’ when certain rivers and lakes will start to lose their ice. It’s a season of pairing down, but not too much. Arctic winds can still freeze fingers and a snowstorm in April is not unheard of. I often start a little cold but finish a little warm and sweaty, nailing the layers is difficult. But hey, at least we’re running in the daylight now…

Headwear

A thin hat is all you need and I am usually in a headband. Depending on your mood and comfort level with the temperature outside, a lined headband (fleece or merino) can be perfect. Later in spring, an unlined headband or nothing at all. If you hike or run with a backpack, these are easy to throw in the bottom or a chest pocket for use as needed. I’ll also wrap it around my wrist if I don't have a backpack. The morning darkness after daylight savings necessitates a headlight if running early in the morning but this quickly wanes.

Handwear

No more thick gloves for me. In our collection of gear at home we have some awesome La Sportiva gloves that have a mitten conversion. On a one-hour run, I’ll often start with mittens, transition to gloves after 20 minutes, and finish the last third with the gloves in my pocket. Recently I discovered WhitePaws RunMitts, a handy thumbless running mitten that flips open and can slide up your forearms as cuffs when not needed. Lately, these are my go-to for Spring runs. One-size-fits-all gloves are an easy option but are a bit thick and sweaty and do not pack well.

Tops

At around 30 degrees Fahrenheit there are 2 options that work well. One, a long sleeve with a vest or t-shirt over top or a long sleeve under a windbreaker. I recommend the latter if there is any wind from the North. Temperatures above this are comfortable in just your long sleeve, and below this keep the windbreaker. Lined jackets are rarely necessary and are a guaranteed sweat-fest; don’t rely on the breathability of your soft-shell, it isn’t enough. Conversely, a backpack is often enough to count as a second layer. Best to get comfortable starting just a little cold while anticipating delayering as core temperature increases.

Bottoms

I’ll run in shorts in anything nearing 40F+ in the interest of staying cool. With colder temps I’ll wear either running tights, bushwhacking leggings, or thin cross-country ski pants. I do have a pair of longer shorts that cover more of the thigh that I enjoy before using my ‘fast’ side-slit shorts. Cold air will certainly cause cramping of the large muscles of the thigh if you are not careful. You can also pair shorts with tall socks for transition temps.

Footwear

This is trail dependent, and sometimes I’ll bring several options in the car, just in case conditions require adjustment. Warmth is rarely an issue so regular socks are fine. Shoe options include regular (running or hiking) shoes, studded shoes, or a combination with micro-spikes. If available, regular shoes should have big lugs to navigate snow or mud. The melt-freeze cycle on local well-used trails can often require studs if not spikes, depending on the ground cover. Early season on my local trails is often well-suited to micro-spikes. They can also be stored in a backpack just in case but be warned they tend to be heavy and bounce around a bit.

For unexpectedly cold days see also our Winter Layering blog

Gear Checklist:

Alpine Fit lightweight Merino Wool Hat

Alpine Fit Merino Wool Lined Headband

Alpine Fit unlined headband

La Sportiva gloves (with mitten conversion)

WhitePaws RunMitts

Alpine Fit long sleeve top (Rendezvous Ridge or Treeline)

Light and packable Windbreaker

Running tights

Alpine Fit Bushwhacking Leggings

Cross Country Ski Pants

Trail running shoes with big lugs/deep tread

Icebug studded trail running shoes

Kahtoola Micro Spikes

1 note · View note

libidomechanica · 2 years

Text

Til that hast thou love not me; despair, resent,

A sonnet sequence

Priests, tapers where there happy in a man. For deceits, arise! Til that hast thou love not me; despair, resent, regret, conceal, disdaine hath it sent out naked on look on his Lips. Water was of the hard world therefore of that bond thanne we wol hem shewe many a man. Love, all restrain the more perjured most; for all my woes are lang! There was not yet agreed, they ca’ me fornicator, an’ tease my name in his Almagestee, so blesse that she best. When at the corner for a woman I am; they hem mysavyse. For he has an By expressed the knight, slips that copy die.

The dark O how they ca’d it Linkumdoddie; willie was a time when the shop window’d she gave his face often tyme hadde he faille, thanne had sent; but to his wyves bonde. Shone sweet Saint Charitee, that of twenty add a storm of kisses brings mutual Victims at yon altar rise, stain a sight to cost you turned out a Tory at last, she laid her forth my tears desire. But we here sight? It to her nose and sheep, leaf and with punctual planet chiming clear, and the courtly train; thy looks beguiled, full many wanton’d round rippled by the stem but it is winter’s wind among the offend.

Of latter date, of wyves wol oure vices telleth me bothe up and seized, and wrap me in my heart roused to re-cement of my fingers, appear to year before is plain! What chair against the god unshorne. Let wealth, I thoughts are list’ning seem’d her in herte blood without a thorn, thy bud’s the night. I have my thoughts be in’t the beere, me thou depart, the pope hadde enchanted moan only the vasty version has given a sprightly have, thou must not bondage is, but Ornament of my champagne flute. But Crist hymself afyre. To tie up envy evermore dear. Entered it comes and out of bed?

All must be, to take much half an hour here, where lasting charge, while prostrate her dame, that sit in mageste: of alle men his mintage they had her soul upon her should arrive ere breast making a cello in Russia, one is dying I put on your pursuit. And by this false harts bene all to see those the calendar could not for that hour, with a roystering, but that dark wood; or the plate, where I fly, pursue, rise in the eye,—that is assail’d or victory is mine, ere yet detest throne thou wilt not, nor he will come that evere love of love there. Now elles, Frere, I bishrewe thy fair woman, O the world’s coward stray’d, love’s fresh in bed: may widows wed as oft as she gives us ourselves thee I’ll run, and let me examine thoughte they played, nor pass beyond the antique pen; him in all men they in the Hall, my body shall not the heaven’s assistance, he could be hers, both our share?

For verray blood glow with’ring in their fair leave you and wanton babes to mine, condemn’d whole mines of ill luck bene dead, deserve our bed and warn’d but with vain delight? A fragrant, bone-dry white star-flower star-shaped, to thine. Or pass the court and Caucasus; if you will never cracked an empty honour strive, our waiter said, or seem’d overbold; now I thought as yow lest, if I have erred, and bade the merchandise, of which alter’d in that chair like nature formed on the stem but it is no womman kan. But a far more than she cared for a minute, a miracle of our fate may yield all else?

Thou raylest on the cord of a mind at rest but still can be at rest of the East doth use you for me who am no more that women faded eyes have wedde me. No one cadencing aright, and let me, true in leudnes and an Asia, and quickly tied to awakens all things for that along with, and fed with my fest so took her wanton in my eye-balls roll, and threescore year was divided into the scenes appease. That they embraced, and by and by the row of stars around him with many fights, and here, ev’n though here to row; in the same sad proof how well a lovely, Woman fair!

That I shal seye sooth, of love. But now to go away; and beat me downe hys packe. I propped her troth, and sacred be heard Apollo sing, hey ding a ding, ding; sweet memory clings like love engendrure, the heaven that he liked her honey Lip. To brynge me gayė thynges fro the worst: all women what playen while their flocken in fresh and gay, and so was he to me. Sire olde fool, what thoughts are lang! God it woot, that al my bed there died the spouse of all thine ease, with his face. Auld baudrons by the supper, for the peril of my gentlemen. For certes, I am naked on look on his Lips.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #138 texts #sonnet sequence

0 notes

keywestlou · 2 years

Text

HEAVY HUMIDITY, FEWER PEOPLE, CAN’T WAIT FOR AUTUMN

HEAVY HUMIDITY, FEWER PEOPLE, CAN’T WAIT FOR AUTUMN - https://keywestlou.com/heavy-humidity-fewer-people-cant-wait-for-autumn-2/Key West Lou returning soon! Originally posted August 2019 For Key West, this is that time of the year. Hot! Heavy humidity…..like you would not believe! Close to a ghost town….. too hot for visitors! September the worst. Every year without fail. The humidity heavier. Things start cooling down in October. By Fantasy Fest, all is back to normal. Hot without humidity by day, cool by night. I often think how the weather was this time of the year up north. My home town Utica, N.Y. In the heart of New York State, in the center of the State. Without fail, the leaves start changing color by August 15. By Labor Day, a significant number of leaves had fallen. So much so that I closed my pool every year religiously the day after Labor Day. Leaves the problem. They screwed up the filter system. Those up north are already into a bit heavier clothes. The men, for example, long pants. Perhaps a jacket. In Key West, long pants rare. If required, generally in January for 2 weeks. Gets cold enough at that time that even winter jackets are worn. I prefer the hot. Never enjoyed the cold and snow of winter. I am happy wearing shorts and a sports shirt most of the year. Hurricanes coming! Hurricane time of the year! Two moving in as I write. Dorian. Began hearing of Dorian last week. Mid week. It is presently a tropical storm. By tomorrow may be a category 1 hurricane. The cone tells us Dorian should miss the keys. It has been edging northward every day. Close of enough for a lot of rain, however. Later today or early tomorrow, Dorian will pass over Puerto Rico. A state of emergency has already been declared for Puerto Rico. Elaine. Still no name. Elaine what it will be once it gets stronger as anticipated. Expected to pick up wind and rain later today. Cone reveals Elaine will be no problem for the keys. Elaine is making a dramatic right hand turn up the Atlantic. She is not expected to hit U.S. shores till she reaches New Jersey. Saturday morning, disaster befell a Key West resident. Fifty two year old Bryhan Thompson. He was diving the Vandenberg with a partner. Both experienced divers. Both had enjoyed the Vandenberg before. Bryhan’s partner signaled they needed to surface. Bryhan ignored his partner’s signal. Instead, he entered a lower room in the Vandeberg. His body was found in the wreck. One Hundred ten feet down. Twenty five feet into the vessel and away from any exit. His body when found had no diving gear on it, except for a face mask. A horrible ending. The U.S./China tariff war is being felt throughout the U.S. lobster industry this year. I wrote recently how bad it was affecting Keys spiny lobsters. Obviously, the situation is far worse nationwide. U.S. lobster exports can best be described as having “fallen off a cliff.” China is now purchasing lobsters from Canada. The drop in the U.S. lobster industry itself is dramatic. Killing. Through June last year, 12 million lobsters were exported by the U.S. to China. This year, a mere 2.2 million. An 80 percent drop. U.S. farmers are totally frustrated with Trump’s China tariff war. Their patience becoming short. It will not take much more for Republicans to lose the farmer vote in 2020. Farmers are specially upset with Trump’s lies that the farmers are starting to do great again. Far from it. Brian Thalman is President of the Minnesota Farm Growers Association. He said yesterday that he could no longer support Trump as he did in 2016. The numbers tell the story. In 2014, Minnesota exported $24 billion of farm product. Last year, $9.1 billion. College football season is upon us. Syracuse opens saturday against Liberty at Liberty. Syracuse an 18 point favorite. Last year Syracuse was 10-3. Its best season in many many years. An even better season anticipated this year. I hope it is true! Love tuesdays! My blog talk radio show. Tuesday Talk with Key West Lou. Nine this evening my time. A quick moving half hour. I rant and rave a bit. Tell it as I see things. Join me. www.blogtalkradio.com/key-west-lou. Enjoy your day!

0 notes

chrisbernstorf · 3 years

Text

The Hotel der Heimat welcomes you.

We wish to draw your attention to our dress code, our event in the ballroom this evening at 7:45pm on Facebook live on Chris Bernstorf's poetry page, and our weekly contest. We hope you will take a moment to familiarize yourself with the hotel's literature and amenities. The hotel and its grounds offer a wealth of opportunities for rest and enjoyment. Kindly alert the front desk if you require assistance, a dinner reservation in the dining room, or a key to the croquet shed.

A printable copy of your room key can be found on Facebook should you desire one. We encourage you to fill in your room number and maintain it as a free souvenir of your stay.

We hope you will find your accommodations to your liking.

We are so grateful to have you.

Please enjoy your stay.

Management

SDG

1 note · View note

royallyprincesslilly · 2 years

Text

Title: Quarantine: A Love Story {32}**

Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Fluff Fest, Pregnancy, NSFW

Words: 3.6k

Note: My very later Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you guys. This chapter is set our month of December. I hope you guys enjoy this.

If you enjoyed this LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG.

As always, thank you for reading!!! ❤️❤️

***Not Edited/Proofread***

Previous Chapters: Q1 | Q2 | Q3 | Q4 | Q5 | Q6 | Q7 | Q8 | Q9 | Q10 | Q11 | Q12 | Q13 | Q14 | Q15 | Q16 | Q17 | Q18 | Q19 | Q20 | Q21 Q22 | Q23 | Q24 | Q25 | Q 4th Of July | Q26 | Q27 | Q28 | Q29 | Q30 | Q31 |

~~~~~~~~~

“We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.”

Everyone shouted the ending as the wind whipped around you reminding you that though you were at the beach, it was the dead of winter and being at the beach was probably a dumb idea. Chris tightened the thick blanket that was around the two of you, staving off the cold that threatened to break through. With his body heat, the baby, your increased body heat, and the blanket, you were on fire. Then when you added the feel of his manhood pressed against your ass, you were near combusting temperature.

“One more!”

They clapped and started up again this time choosing the Twelve Days of Christmas. The lights on the Christmas tree that was perched in the middle of the beach really gave the festive feels. It may have been an odd tradition, but it had become one you really enjoyed.

“Cold?”

“How could I be? I have three people’s body heat under here and that concealed weapon keeping me warm.”

He snorted then nipped the nape of your neck.

“Behave. I have been on my best behavior these last two days I do not need you pushing me closer to the edge.”

“The question is why have you been on your best behavior? I thought once married everyone knew what was expected.”

“So that means I should be cool with my family knowing I’m making love to my wife?”

“Chris—hello, bun in oven about to pop out. Your family knows you like to make love to your wife. Also, let’s not forget that very heated discussion that was had on that lawn over there when every single one of your family found out what we’d just done on the swing and the entire quarantine.”

Chris laughed dropping his forehead to your shoulder. The memories flooded you and you smiled.

“I can’t trust you to keep quiet. Ever since this pregnancy, your idea of keeping it down is loud enough for Dodger to know what’s happening so he scratches down the door because his precious best friend might be in danger.”

It was your turn to laugh now.

“You’re so jealous. He still loves you the best. I think it’s the whole baby thing that has him in protective mode. Tell you what, the next baby you carry them, and he’ll remain by your side forever.”

“The next baby?”

“You and I both know one and done is not you. Neither of us had one sibling. Heavenly baby and this baby would want more siblings.”

Chris pulled you tighter and nuzzled your ear. “I love you so much, Mrs. Evans.”

He always got emotional when you mentioned the baby you’d lost and included them. It was a bittersweet reference. You both agreed they were gone but not forgotten.

“Auntie Y/N!”

“That’s me,” you said bending forward just a little.

“Do you think the baby will be here tomorrow?”

You snorted. “Let’s hope baby stays right where they are until we’re back home and can follow the plan.”

That plan was a home birth until it was no longer medically safe. That had taken some but not too much convincing on Chris’s part. Everyone was anxious to meet the baby and you understood. It had been several years since there was a baby to dote on and this baby would be Chris’s. It was going to be one spoiled kid.

You and Chris stood there and watched your families interact singing Christmas carols and dancing around the beach without a care in the world. The sight warmed your heart and made you feel so much love and gratitude. After years of pain and so much struggle, you didn’t have any left in you. Sometimes you found it hard to believe how much things had changed; how much you’d changed. You often had to pinch yourself just to make sure it was still reality you were living in and not some fever dream.

“It’s real,” Chris whispered.

You sank back on him and sighed. “It is.

Turning your head, you kissed him sweetly then whispered in his ear.

“Thank you.”

Chris pulled back and gazed into your eyes. “Thank you.”

An hour later, you were sitting on the floor in the living room while everyone was doing their own thing. Your thing was watching Tik Tok videos with the kids and laughing at the things that people posted. Every so often Chris’ nieces and nephews who were now your nieces and nephews rubbed your belly every time you put your hand on it to soothe the swarm of kicks you received every time you laughed. They went back and forth with laughing about and watching the videos and talking about the coming baby. Their excitement was evident, and it warmed your heart.

“Auntie Y/N?”

“Yes honey.”

“If we have to quarantine again, will you and the baby come back here like last time?”

“Would you want that?”

They all nodded.

“You sure? You know a newborn is loud and sleeps a lot, right?”

“We know. We could help you and Uncle Chris. We’ll feed it, sing to it, play with it.”

You smiled and took a peek around to see who was listening. Nearly everyone was.

“Well, thank you, I’m sure your Uncle Chris, and I will need the help.”

Your eyes met Chris’s and they had a look that was hard to read but so transparent. A small smile spread across his lips as he winked at you then went back to the book in his hands, yet another pregnancy and baby book.

An hour or so later when you walked out of the bathroom freshly showered and robed, you walked into an empty bedroom.

“Chris?”

You looked around the sizable room expecting to see him somewhere, but he wasn’t anywhere in the room. Walking over to your phone resting on the charging pod on the nightstand, you readied yourself to text him beginning to wonder if he was again playing the piano to calm his thoughts as he’d done on Thanksgiving. Before you began typing out a message to him, you saw the notecard and a lone yellow sunflower entwined with one lone white daisy laying in the center of the bed.

“What in the--.”

You knew better than to try to reach for it. If you did that you’d topple right over, it was a miracle you didn’t stumble and tumble throughout the day already. Perching on the side of the bed, you took the items and smiled. He’d been giving you sunflowers and daisies since your first official date, right here. Suspicion flooded you.

“No way.”

You opened the note and instantly recognized Chris’s handwriting.

-Y/N-

This seems to be the best day and the best way to go about this. You know how much you mean to me.

No day goes by without a thought of you. From the morning, and all through the day, I can’t stop thinking about you.

Will you have dessert with me tonight?

If your answer is yes and you’re feeling up to it, please meet me where it all began for us.

God, I hope your answer is yes.

-Chris

Unable to fight the tears back you sniffled and dabbed at your eyes. The influx of hormones coursing through you was to blame. You remembered the first note he’d sent asking for you to meet him for dinner for your first date and you’d memorized the first note he’d written. You smelled the flowers once more then placed your hand on your stomach as mini-Evans chimed in their opinion.

“Okay baby, give me another hour or two of energy please, I think daddy deserves some alone time. So whaddaya say?”

You waited a few moments and smiled as the baby settled giving you an answer.

“Okay, here we go.”

You hauled yourself up, grabbed the blanket at the foot of the bed then went on your way. Downstairs, once you’d pulled on your snow boots, you gave Dodger a nuzzle and command to stay put for the night then you walked outside and smiled widely when you saw snow flurries were falling. You hated winter but you loved falling snow and loved it even more here. It was one of the most interesting things to see the white snow sprinkled across the brown sand and bushes while the rolling waves barreled to the shore. You knew it was going to be a beautiful sight tomorrow morning and made a mental note to request your morning walk along the beach rather than around the property.

You knew the path to the cabin like the back of your hand and could walk it with your eyes closed. As you walked, you allowed the memories of the first time you’d walked this path for a secret meeting that only the two of you knew about. You’d been nervous then, now there was no nervousness. As you closed in on the cabin, you saw all the twinkling lights on, and again you smiled. When you stepped through the gate, there he stood on the deck holding a bouquet of sunflowers and daisies.

After climbing the steps, you stopped in front of him.

“Where do you find these flowers? It’s the dead of winter.”

“My mother’s greenhouse,” he replied.

You snorted and giggled knowing she was going to kill him.

“She’s going to kill you.”

“She won’t especially if she knows they were for her precious daughter-in-law who is carrying her precious new grandbaby.”

He had a point. He could get away with anything as long as the reason was you. Chris held the bouquet out to you, and you happily took them.

“Thank you, baby.”

You kissed him and a shiver ran through you. Chris pulled the blanket tighter around you and put his arm around you.

“Trying to catch your death?”

“I’m fine. It wasn’t the weather that gave me the chill.”

His blue eyes darkened, and you that devilish smirk appeared.

“Good to know I still give you chills.”

“Still? Evans, there hasn’t been a day you haven’t given me chills. You still got it, old man.”

He rolled his eyes and led you inside the cabin that was lit aglow with row after row of candles.

“My god Chris.”

“Do you remember our first time here together?”

You nodded and looked around at his craftiness.

“There weren’t any candles here, but I really wanted there to be. I didn’t want to scare you off.”

You snorted again at his confession.

“I think it was perfect the way it was, as is this.”

He kissed your temple and walked you to the bedroom where there were two large slices of cake, a sea of candles, flower petals, and cushions covering the floor before the bigger-than-life window that showed the falling snow in all its magic. A giddy squeal escaped you before you three your arms around Chris.

“I’ve never seen anyone like falling snow but hate winter,” he teased.

“I could say the same about your obsession with Disney movies and Disneyworld,” you countered narrowing your eyes.

“Wow. Uncalled for Mrs. Evans.”

He led you to the spot and helped you get down to the floor then joined you.

“Oh my god, this is so perfect. You, me, cake, and snow.”

“I don’t know how you keep forgetting little cub,” he said while gently rubbing your belly.

“I’m not forgetting them. It’s hard to forget when you’ve gained over sixty pounds and your ass has stretched to the size of Massachusetts itself.”

“Stop it you’re gorgeous with a particularly sexy ass.”

“You’re just saying that because you like big asses and boobs.”

“I’m saying that because it is true. The former just happens to also be true.”

You smiled, leaned to him, and planted a sloppy kiss on him as a thank you. He’d done everything to show you daily how beautiful and sexy he still thought you were, and you appreciated it more than he knew.

“So, baby agreed to give me another hour or two of energy and you some much-needed alone time, so enjoy it while it lasts.”

He smiled and held out the plate of cake for you. The two of you ate and watched the falling snow decorate the trees and ground enjoying the completeness of your togetherness as a family and the comfort of your connection. There was no need for words, there never was, and it was something you loved about your relationship. Once the cakes and the sparkling apple cider were gone, Chris took your hand and toyed with your fingers.

“The more time that passes I hope more and more that she’s a girl.”

“Why?”

His penetrating orbs landed on you. “So I can have a mini replica of you.”

You touched his jaw and slid your thumb across his bottom lip. “Why not a mini replica of you?”

“Because if there is another you then the world will never be without sunshine and it’s one step closer to being a better place.”

Just like that, you melted, and the evidence came from your eyes and streamed down your cheeks. Chris wiped the tears then kissed your cheeks.

“How’d I get so lucky, Y/N?”

His kiss trailed along your jaw to your ear then down to your neck and shoulder. You sighed softly as your eyes fluttered closed to enjoy the sensations. You could feel his fingers deftly loosening the tie of your robe as his lips kissed your skin. In a few short seconds, you felt the robe slide down your arms then Chris’s lips trailing heated kisses along your collarbone then down your chest until your sensitive nipples found their way into his mouth.

“Mmm.”

He gently laid you back against the strategically placed cushions and feasted on your flesh. His movement was slow, and his actions gentle. You knew the tone for the night had been set. He planned on taking things nice and slow, torturing the two of you in the process. You laced your fingers at the back of his head and held him against your breast relishing the pleasure he was giving you—pleasure he’d always given you. The vibration of his moan sent goosebumps across your skin and another shiver through you.

Chris lifted his head and glanced at you.

“How close we came to missing out on this,” he whispered.

You rested your hand against his cheek and spoke, “You can’t miss out on fate. One way or another what’s meant for you will always find you.”

“Are you meant for me?”

His voice was husky and filled with so much emotion. You spread your legs a little further and allowed him more access to you.

“We’re meant for each other,” you whispered.

Your eyes remained locked taking in the words, immersing in the feelings, your connection with one another, and the love between you. As if a flame had been ignited within both of you, you both began moving. You tried to peel off his shirt while he worked at his pants. A few moments later, Chris’s lips were again on your skin kissing, licking, and suckling you until your back arched and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. A loud gasp echoed in the room at the first feel of his tongue against your pearl and your hands immediately gripped his hair.

“Yes baby,” you panted.

His response was a soft nibble against you and that sent a powerful jolt through you that triggered your orgasm. Your thighs pressed his face as you came undone and shook with the force of your release.

“Oh my god.”

Chris moaned and lapped at your flesh, not one intention of stopping or taking it easy on you. Before your body cooled from one release, you were barreling into another and another and another. By the time he came up for air, part of you doubted you could hang for two more hours but the other part didn’t think two hours was enough for all the things you wanted to do to him. You pulled him to you and kissed him hoping he understood how badly you wanted him. Using your feet, you pushed his boxer-briefs off and moaned when you felt the familiar heaviness of his manhood pressing against your seam. Without a thought, your hips bucked rubbing your soaked entrance against him.

“I wanted to go, slow baby,” Chris moaned.

“Slow and steady might win the race but fast and hard takes the cake.”

He smiled and nuzzled your nose.

“Such a bad, bad girl,” he teased.

“You should punish me.”

“And what should that punishment be?”

“Fuck me.”

Again, Chris smiled then kissed you. “I feel like that would be more of a reward than punishment.”

“Then fuck me hard.”

He groaned and you watched the muscles in his jaw tense. It was exactly what he wanted. He’d held back for months now, and you were just about tired of it.

“Christ you’re going to make me cum from words.”

“Then cum in me while I’m screaming your name.”

Chris groaned.

“God, I love you,” he whispered as he slowly slid inside your body, connecting you.

Both of you released a long hiss with every inch he sheathed. At half length, he retreated, making you grunt. you grunted.

“No. More.”

“Y/N,” Chris said.

It was a warning, one you ignored.

“No. I want to feel all of you,” you protested.

Again, he plunged into your heat giving you a little more than half but still not all. Frustration washed over you and you wrapped one leg around his back hooking your leg. You hoped it would give you leverage to keep him where you wanted him, but no dice. He was stronger and not harboring a massive baby belly that restricted most of your range of motion.

“Chris, please.”

“I don’t know if I can remain in control, Y/N.”

“Please.”

After a deep breath, he gave you what you wanted. With him filling you, your back arched and eyes closed.

“Fuck yes!”

Chris grunted, retreated, then plunged forward again and again each time slow and deliberate. Each steady move increased your torture. While it was a small victory, you realized you’d have to fight for the others.

“Harder.”

Chris groaned and dropped his forehead on your chest.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.

“You won’t.”

“What if I do? What if I hurt the baby?”

You smirked. “You may be abundantly blessed by the almighty down there, but I assure you, you’re not that blessed babe. The baby will be fine. For the last eight months, you’ve been treating me like some glass figurine, and I love you for it, but I miss the other side of us. I won’t break. I need you and me back. I want to feel you, all of you. I don’t want you to hold back, I don’t want you to control.”

You held his face with both your hands ensuring he was looking at you. “I want you here with me, completely.”

You saw the moment it clicked inside him.

“You’ll tell me if I’m hurting you.”

“I will. Now fuck me.”

Like he’d been unshackled he rotated his hips giving a feel of him from all angles and the move took your breath. He withdrew then flicked his hips forward more forcefully. The movement sent your breasts swinging and you gasped giving yourself over to the pleasure. He did it again and again and each time your gasp sounded more and more breathless.

“Yes, right there baby.”

Your words were the encouragement he needed. Steadily he picked up the pace and with the increased pace came the force from his hips. You watched as each and every chain of control popped until he was free. A few minutes in, you could tell he was as lost to the pleasure as you were. Chris gripped your hips and moved you to meet each of his thrusts. The way his body looked in the glow of the candlelight made your pulse quicken. While you’d put on weight, he’d put on muscle and right now they were all on display for your viewing pleasure and boy was it pleasurable.

“Mmm, you’re so wet, baby.”

“Because of you. Oh my god, Chris, I’m so close.”

“Me too.”

Chris turned you to the side putting your leg on his shoulder and jackhammered into you. Unable to hold it back, you screeched and dug your nails into his muscled thigh.

“Oh my god, oh my god. Yes! Yes! Yes! Fuck Chris make me cum!”

“Cum for me sunshine. Cum all over this dick.”

On command, your body listened, and you let go completely seeing stars in the process. When you felt Chris’s release, it only made you cum that much harder.

“Oh my god, Y/N!”

He hugged your leg that was still perched on his shoulder as he slowly came down from the high you both shared. When your eyes met again, you both smiled slowly.

“Are you all right?”

“Better than.”

He smiled and his eyes dropped to your belly.

“We’re fine. I’m completely crippled but I’m great. We’re going to have to sleep right here.”

Chris snorted then pulled away. Both of you sucked in a breath from the absence of each other. He then came around and easily scooped you into his arms.

“I got you, Mrs. Evans.”

He walked you to the bed then placed you in it. He disappeared out of the room for a few minutes then returned to blow out the candled. When he climbed into bed beside you, you instinctively laid on his tatted chest the same way you’d done for almost two years and listened to his heart.

“How’d I get so lucky?”

Chris kissed the top of your head then tipped your chin up. Meeting his eyes, he kissed your lips.

“I’m the lucky one, sunshine.”

Seconds later, you were out like a light with your entire world nestled closely.

Your final thought---this was what it felt like coming full circle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

@chaneajoyyy @caplover22 @kikimiyazaki @bellaamor88 @toniilaney @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @ajspencer1892 @ashanti-notthesinger @90sinspiredgirl @titty-teetee @evemej @areubeingserved @theskullgoddess @caramara3 @champagnesugamama @minton131 @pananegra @mery-be @scoop93535 @try-n-pronounce-it @momobaby227 @alyxkbrl @dumbchick @behindthesehazeleyes27 @blackmissfrizzle @chris-butt @snowpiercer21 @nervousninjatheorist @lovebittenbyevans @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @thinkxlovexloud @swinchestersgirl @angrybirdcr @d1ff3r3nt-b34uty-official @twinx007 @a-dizzle777 @ab-baybay @patzammit @anandalambert @kreolemami @aysha1447 @cutewylie @disaster-rose @wondersofdreaming @lo-cheu @livinglifeformemyselfandi @magdelen69 @renfrewscorner @thevelvetseries @hakunalive4eva

@youurkryptonite @mizcaptainphoenix @bobbdylann @amennariee @emilykjh @littlepreciousangel @ssaarroonn @thummbelina @sweetlittlegingy @art-estrange @torntaltos @mrslokibarnesrogers @rororo06 @likesfairytales @anotherblackfangirl @bernie-k @theonewithherheadintheclouds @hista-girl @coldmuffinbanditshoe @jennmurawski13 @deathstroke-terminated-deez-guts @mrsbarnes-rogers @maxcullen @shadyskit @itsallyscorner @someone-really-bored @thejemersoninferno @cristinagronk16 @shakemeupthanks-blog @productofchina @acciolove724 @straightforwardly @zsuzstyina @acevansss @amelatonin @evansgirl7 @vintageembrace @maverickabull @almosttherebutnot @jd-now-jq @winchwm @periodtcevans @est1887 @deadlymistress24 @thotti3par7on @sunkissedebony97 @turn-thy-paige @nerdybitchpudding

@priya212 @sadishdelray @jesseswartzwelder @pivictorious @anat2507 @raveviolet @rdjparker @actorinfluence @ljstraightnochaser @winterboobear11 @awaywithtime @evermcfearless @tashawar @dwights-new-plague @euphoric05 @baby-iyania @041802 @marvelatthis30 @martinafigoli @spxcecxramxl @brownskinafro @ani808 @creolemami @queenwinchester2 @dragonballluver @kailyndavillier @thelilbutifulthings @problackasfwilson @miss-jackson500 @ibe-erynn @mizzzpink @thejeneralvicinity @siempremamita @theladybiers @literaturefeen @richonne4life @scifi-fantasist @cookinggurl43 @shar74nett @tenaciousperfectionunknown @disconectedswift @i-lie-here-charmed @bamakakechick @chuckbass-love @captainchrisstan @buchanansebba @timotheessoleil @onetwo3000 @letsdothemonstermash @euh-say-what-now @myakai13 @jillanaholland @kemkem101 @cessamjrmr @melanicia @badkittybang @queenwinchester27 @doublesidedscoobysnacks @sophiealiice @mirmirmur @redhairedfeistynerd @nico-diangelo-grey @amazonian-strap-queen @imaslutforcaptainamerica @wintermoons @tstark-94

@shining—h somethin @deadpixie22 @jasmindaughteroftheworld @smediumsmeatbae @almosttherebutnot @mauvecherie @blackgurlkillinit @madixii @guardian-tn @sohalia01 @xoxloaveasre @lickmymelaninn @crist1216 @jovanaprime @tashawar @rainbowkisses31 @chrisevansfanfic @wonderlandfandomkingdom @partypoison-00 @rynabarnesrogers-reading@danna-wana @live-laugh-love-ki @queenoftheworldisdead @reveviolet @pretendlifeisnormal @southerngracela @fanfictionaffair @sullyosully @naturalthrone22 @kittykatlow @peggyslegion @offrostandstarlight @readerforwocfics @yourroyalthickness @beccacupcakesxo @rhyrhy462 @littlepreciousangel @queenshikongo3 @simply-heaven @chezdricks @mangos4u @cltex84 @petty-bitch-akira @cevans-fics @littleheavensangel2 @niquemorris @pretendlifeisnormal @toni9 @musicallyinclinedthings @derogatorylanguage @ukmkhan @sweetst24 @liquorlaughslove @leopardandpink

@ramp-it-up @october505 @k347 @thotti3evans @reignandrain @littlebabexdebby @laricebabe @songtoyou @msblkfire84 @bforbbgirl @shipatheart @captainchrisstan @brownskinafro @ak329 @poshgirl2 @cleopatra-knowles @youremysuperstar @alookintohersoul @xsweetdellzx @cxmfort @i-just-like-fanfics @storiestoldbyjazz @helenasmirkedno @labella420 @imthewarmpenguininthemiddle @roseasweet @6lackfiction @krrose3 @parkker-barrnes @lilac-tea-time @maeleeme @annabarbara101 @elisaboricua @secretswiftymarvelfan @kaiya-ch4n @zeelmol @maeleeme @7soulstars @jbrizzywrites @ms90schick @pricklypear @talley84 @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @kalesrebellion @koko-michelle @inmoix @tantricevans @harrypotheadnerd @mrs-captain-evans @cevans-fics @pretendlifeisnormal @fanfictionaffair

@sohani02 @baby-i-am-fireproof@clubfairy @shipatheart @evans-sims @skyesthebomb @kenequa @ficsfordays @breezykpop @trinity97-blog @deadpixie22 @sohalia01 @heroine-of-color @thefuckingluxury @surmya1907 @maeleeme @queenoftheworldisdead @coolbakeryprunetoad @naturalthrone22 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @starlite-starbrite @offrostandstarlight @zeedaye @partypoison00 @imthatbitchsworld @soul–notforsale @toni9 @someone-really-bored @venustrap04 @chrisevansdaddycap @kittykatlow @live-laugh-love-ki @asiaaisa77 @melanicia @fistmetonystark @storiestoldbyjazz @xsweetdellzx @jennmurawski13 @livinglifeformemyselfandi @crowngold @krrose3 @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @lost- ssoull

@give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @shar74nett @cltex84 @badbitchhtown @petty-bitch-akira @cxmfort @unknownmystery22 @raveviolet @madixii @nina1800 @imthewarmpenguininthemiddle @ak329 @bernie-k @almosttherebutnot @smediumsmeatbae @nervousninjatheorist @lo-cheu @creole-mami @acciolove724 @shipatheart @captainchrisstan @ramp-it-up @bforbbgirl @i-just-like-fanfics @brownskinafro @jhayes6984 @badbo1-evans @msblkfire84 @jovanaprime @poshgirl2 @marvelatthis30 @littlepreciousangel @youremysuperstar @alookintohersoul @cleopatra-knowles @parkker-barrnes @zeelmol @qualitynightkoala @colorfullydone @jurneesjourney @unsaltedalmonds

@basicchelsea @unfriendly-blk-hottie @macgruberrr @undecidedsworld @mishdennise @jasminedayz @maeleeme @patzammit @ficsfordays @keytodespair @lexlulusworld @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @lharrietg @evans-sims @heroine-of-color @kenequa @ysmmsy @jungledreamm @breezykpop @triton08 @skyesthebomb @shipatheart @mrslokibarnesrogers @sugarmelonwater @keytodespair @afriicanhoe @freshpizzasoul @cevansfangirl16 @evansgirl7 @momobaby227

#quarantine: a love story fic #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x ofc #black fanfiction #quarantine fic #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic

193 notes · View notes

robinrunsfiction · 2 years

Note

Hi so I had a dream about this so I’m making it into a prompt for you. Could you pls write one where Y/N finds Frank’s dog Lois and doesn’t know who she belongs to so Y/N brings her in her house and takes care of her and then Frank is going door to door seeing if anyone has seen Lois. You can take it as far as you want but yeah that’s it thank you 💜

Christmas and Winter Fic Fest 2021

Pairing: Frank Iero x Female Reader Rating: General Requested By: Anon Word Count: 1,450 Author’s Note: This is the first in what should be a short series of fics centered around Christmas and winter! Hope you enjoy!

You had just turned up your street as the flurries that had been falling all afternoon began to pick up, the cold New Jersey wind whipping the flakes around and turning it into a full blown snow storm. It was looking like it would be the perfect weekend to huddle up inside with some hot cocoa and some bad TV, but when you pulled into your driveway, something in the bushes in front of your home grabbed your attention.

You pulled your hat down more snuggly over your ears before grabbing your grocery bags and purse, and heading into the storm to see what exactly was sniffing around in front of your house. As you approached, the shape in the shrubbery turned to look at you. That’s when you noticed the wagging tail and suddenly a large, but incredibly friendly dog was bounding over to you.

“Hi baby,” you grinned, reaching out to rub the dog behind her ears. “Oh you’re a good dog, huh? What are you doing here?”

The dog just wagged her tail and looked up at you excitedly. You had moved into the neighborhood fairly recently, so you’d seen a few neighbors walking dogs, but never this one.

“Come on, let’s go inside, it’s too cold out here for either of us.”

You hurried to the door, unlocking it and letting yourself in, but the dog hung back. “Come on,” you smiled. “I don’t have treats but,” you glanced down at your shopping bag. “Umm… I got cheese? You like cheese?”

The dog started wagging her tail again and trotted into the house at the promise of a snack. Watching the happy dog explore her new surroundings, sniffing around the living room as you took off your jacket, you smiled happily.

“Ok, come on, let’s get you a snack,” you said, leading the way to the kitchen. Retrieving a couple bowls from the cupboard, you put water in one, and some shredded cheddar in the other. The dog happily gobbled up food, and then started drinking the water, slobbering plenty onto the floor.

“Can I see your collar?” you asked when the dog was finished. The dog, ever agreeable, let you examine the tags hanging from the pink collar. “Lois? Your name is Lois?” you laughed lightly. “Who on earth named you that?”

You checked the other tags, but they only were her city registration and immunization tags, no information regarding where, or to whom, she belonged.

“I guess I’ll take you to a vet tomorrow to see if you got a microchip, ok? You wanna stay here tonight? Let’s find you some real dinner.”

You hadn’t really considered getting a pet before, but you quite enjoyed the company of the funny dog named Lois. Maybe if for some reason Lois’ owner couldn’t be located, you could adopt the pup in, you considered.

“Would you wanna live here?” you asked as Lois ate the chicken breast you had shared with her. Lois just looked up at you with big dark eyes, and you felt your heart melt a little.

After dinner, you settled in on the couch to watch TV as the snow continued to swirl outside in the dark. You had wrapped yourself in a warm fleece blanket and fuzzy socks, but you almost didn’t need them with Lois laying nearby, giving off plenty of warmth. A while later there was a knock at the door, and Lois picked up her head and gave a soft woof.

“Hang on sweetie,” you said, hopping up and heading to see who was there.

When you opened the door, you found a dark haired man, bundled up against the cold winter weather, a look of utter despair on his face. “Can I help you?” you asked.

“Yea, I’m looking for my dog? Have you seen a-” But before he could finish, Lois had hopped off the couch and was jumping up happily on her rightful owner. “Lois! Oh my god, I’m so glad you found her!”

“Oh yea, she was in my yard when I got home this evening. I, umm, gave her some cheese and some chicken, I hope that’s ok.”

“Yea, that’s totally fine! I’m just so glad you took her in, I was so worried she’d be out in the storm! I’d been outta town and just got back today, but the sitter dropped her off and I guess she got away before he got her in the house.”

“I can’t imagine such a sweet girl slipping away like that,” you laughed lightly, looking down at the dog who was looking between both humans happily.

The man laughed as well. “Sometimes she can be a bit of a butthead. Oh umm, I’m Frank,” he said, extending his hand.

“I’m (YN),” you smiled as you shook his hand. Now that he looked so much less distressed, you realized how cute he was, and the tattoos on his hands were very intriguing.

“Thanks again, (YN). I owe ya one. Like a million actually. Like, whatever you need, I could come shovel your sidewalk if you want? ” He offered.

“It’s no problem, I was happy to have the company for the evening, but" you glanced over his shoulder at the snow still coming down. "I think I will take you up on your offer to shovel, if you bring Lois over so I can hang out with her."

Frank grinned. “Yea, I can do that. Tomorrow morning ok?"

"Sounds great," you agreed.

"Umm, I’ll get out of your hair,” he said, attaching Lois’ leash to her collar. “Thank you (YN). I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“See ya then,” you nodded as Frank and Lois headed home.

The next morning, you woke up early, surprised by how excited you felt at the prospect of Frank coming around again. After brewing a fresh pot of coffee you paced anxiously, not entirely sure when he’d arrive. A short while later there was a knock on the door and you hurried to answer it.

“Hey,” Frank smiled, and Lois wagged her tail, from the other side of the door.

“Hey! Thanks again for doing this for me. I really hate shoveling,” you laughed.

“It’s no problem at all,” Frank smiled. “Do you have a shovel?”

“Oh right, hang on, I’ll be right out,” you nodded before shutting the door, getting your jacket and boots on, and heading out through the garage, grabbing the snow shovel on the way.

Frank traded Lois’ leash for the shovel and set to work as you made snowballs for Lois to chase after. Even though it was cold, you didn’t even notice, much more interested in chatting with the cute guy doing your most hated chore. The best part was, he didn’t seem to mind it, in fact he seemed to be enjoying the time spent out in the snow.

“Umm, do you wanna come inside for some coffee and warm up?” You offered once the sidewalk and your driveway were cleared.

Frank smiled. “Sure, that sounds good.”

He and Lois followed you in and Lois hopped right up on the couch.

“Lois, get down,” Frank scolded, but she didn’t budge.

“That’s ok, she was up there yesterday. The furniture isn’t fancy so I don’t mind,” you laughed leading the way to the kitchen.

“She sure is comfortable here,” he laughed lightly, glancing around while you fetched a couple mugs from the cabinet.

“I’m glad, I’m not sure what I would have done if she was freaking out last night before you arrived. She kinda made me start thinking about adopting a dog for myself, it gets sorta lonely around here,” you said, pouring the coffee, and not realizing how pathetic you sounded, until the words were already out of your mouth.

But Frank just nodded sympathetically. “I totally get that. Dogs are so awesome to have around, they’re always happy to see you when you come home, great listeners. They’re usually really good at judging people’s character.”

“Oh really?” You asked curiously, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Yea, I think Lois knew you were a good person, that she could trust you,” he smiled and you blushed a little.

“Well I appreciate that,” you replied. "Where'd you adopt her from?"

"Northstar Pet Rescue. I’d recommend checking them out, they’re really great there. Ya know, if you do end up adopting a dog, I'm sure Lois would love to have a playdate," Frank offered.

"Yea, that would be great," you nodded.

"But maybe in the meantime maybe we could go on a date?" Frank asked a little nervously, his cheeks turning a delightful shade of pink.

You grinned. "I think that sounds like a great idea too."

#frank iero x reader #frank iero fan fic #frank iero fan fiction #frank iero fanfic #frank ieor fanfiction #frank iero imagine #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fan fiction #my chemical romance fanfic #my chemical romance fanfiction #winter fic fest 2021

78 notes · View notes

dangerous-mess · 3 years

Text

Holiday Troubles

Characters: Aizawa, trans male reader

Contains: Unsupportive family, transphobia, homophobia, misgendering, mentions of a deadname (D/N), mentions of religion and praying, mentions of dysphoria, angst, hurt/comfort, angst with fluff ending. This was written mainly as a comfort fic during the winter holidays but wanted to post this here (originally posted on AO3). Please read with caution as this content may be triggering for some

Word Count: 2K+

The holidays were always rough for you, being not only gay but transgender as well. There were the off-putting tension and feelings every time you walked in the room, and the side glances and judgemental glares that were shot your way if you were even caught wearing something feminine and not masculine. Mostly from your parents and family, feeling the obligation that you had to follow gender norms in the hope to not only pass but to be taken seriously in your own identity.

The holidays got a little easier once you married your now husband. He made visiting your family a bit easier and made the holidays in general, more enjoyable for you. This year, unfortunately, he had meetings and a nightly patrol that he couldn’t get out of, so you were left to go to the Christmas family gathering by yourself.

The day came, and needless to say, you were a nervous mess. You dressed up in a suit, something masculine of course to appease your family and keep those comments at bay. Though, you knew you weren’t in the clear as there was still a high chance of being deadnamed and misgendered by family who were unsupportive or others who just didn’t try. Your husband, Shouta, let you know before he left early that morning that if you needed anything at all to give him or Hizashi a call and they would come and get you in a heartbeat. He said Hizashi, just in case he couldn’t be reached, which was fine with you, Hizashi had become a close friend to you.

You arrived at your parent's house a little later than they asked, just cause you were nervous and needed more time to prepare for this evening. You knocked on the front door, adjusting your suit as you waited for someone to open the door, only to be greeted by one of your younger siblings. They gave you a big hug, before dragging you inside where you were greeted by family. Your grandmother was the first to deadname you. She called out as you talked to your uncle, a devious smile on her face as the name rolled off her tongue. You cringed hearing it and so badly wanted to correct her, but if your mother caught wind that you did, who knows what drama may pursue. You endured the conversation with her, as she made sure to drop in your deadname every chance she could get.

“Honestly D/N, you really should stop playing dress up and realize that you are a girl. Your husband would be so much happier to have a wife who knows her place and not some confused girl.”

You took a deep breath and bid your goodbyes to your grandmother as you went to find someone else to talk to. Eventually, dinner was called, and you all gathered around and your grandfather said a prayer. You looked down at your feet the entire time, not really wanting to participate in the prayer. Soon it wrapped up and a line formed into the kitchen to get food. After everyone got food, everyone gathered around and talked, telling stories of things that happened within the past year in their lives, as well as asking questions to others to get the latest scoop. You just decided to eat silently, trying to not participate in the gossip fest happening before you.

“So Y/N, how are you and your husband doing?” Your dad asked before he took a sip of a beer. You held up your pointer finger, signaling that you needed a moment as your finished chewing food before you smiled and spoke.

“Oh, we are doing well! He sends his deepest apologies that he couldn’t make it, hero duties called.” You smiled, taking a quick glance around the room. Some whispers were exchanged, knowing it was about you and Shouta. It was clear that besides your family not supporting your identity, they also did not support your marriage to a hero. Especially a hero who was supportive of you and your identity.

“Honestly, how she manages to keep such a hero man, is insane. Like who would wanna marry some confused lesbian?” One of your aunts spoke out. You gripped your glass tightly, biting your tongue, not wanting to start any issues.

Other family members chimed in to add on to your aunt's comment and soon it became too much. You quickly excused yourself and went to the bathroom farthest away from your family. You pulled out your phone and texted your husband. You told him that you needed him or Hizashi or someone to come to pick you up, as you originally walked, as it was nice earlier prior to the sun setting. You quickly got a reply, saying your husband was on his way, and that he was getting someone to cover the rest of his patrol. You felt a bit bad to interrupt and have him leave his patrol, but god you just needed him right now more than anything.

You hid amongst the rooms as you waited for Shouta to send you a message or signal that he was here. Your mom called out your name, walking down the hall looking for you. The smile on her face dropped as she saw you and grabbed your arm.

“Come on Y/N, we are about to exchange gifts. Stop trying to hide and be nice and spend time with your family. It took a lot of work and effort to get everyone here, like your grandparents who haven’t seen you in ages.” Your mom aggressively whispered at you, as she pulled you towards the living room. You stayed silently, hoping that your husband would be here soon.

Your mom let you go and pointed to a chair near the tree. You sat down and were handed some gifts. You slowly opened them, trying not to draw attention to yourself. The first gift was in a gift bag, and opening it exposed a colorful piece of clothing. You pulled it out and it was a sundress. Although you didn’t mind breaking gender norms, dresses were never your thing, they held too many bad memories and made you dysphoric. You frowned, not having the energy to fake a smile. You felt your mind start to spiral before a voice pulled you out.

“Oh, D/N do you not like it. I made sure to even get the right size and everything. I thought you could put that on and surprise your husband when you go home. Imagine how he would react to see his wife, finally coming to terms with herself.” Your grandmother called out, staring at you the entire time. You went to open your mouth when another voice spoke up.

“Actually, I think my husband looks handsome and perfect just the way he is in the suit he is wearing, but thank you. Maybe we can save the dress and give it to one of my students, I know one of them would get much better use of it.” Shouta’s voice boomed out, making a hush fall across the room. You never heard the front door open, but then again Shouta was very good at staying silent. You looked at your husband, feeling all your emotions and feelings starting to rise to the surface. You caught a dirty look your mother gave you as you stood up and made your way over to Shouta.

He held out his hand as you got closer and held it tightly, quickly bidding goodbye for you both as he quickly led you outside to the car that was waiting outside and still running. “I had Hizashi drive me over, hope that’s okay.” You just nodded at him, not letting go of his hand until you got into the car. As soon as you and Shouta were in the car, Hizashi sped off.

“Heya listener, how did it go?” Hizashi asked out, peeking into the mirror looking back at you.

“I lasted longer than last year, so that’s a new record at least.” You joked, trying not to cry. At least not now, you had to make it until you were home and in bed, with your husband holding you close.

Hizashi talked most of the ride home, while Shouta kept glancing back at you. You tried to listen to what was being said, but you couldn’t focus, so you just looked out the window, slightly dozing off. You woke up to the feeling of being carried, your eyes adjusted as you saw Shouta was carrying you into the house and to the bedroom. On any other occasion, if he was carrying you like this you were bound to tease or crack a joke or something, but in this moment you just stayed in his arms, gripping onto him tightly. Once you both got to the bedroom, he helped you undress and slip on something comfy. After he finished helping you, he quickly changed and climbed into bed, pulling you close to him and holding you tightly.

For a while, you just laid there in his arms, fighting back the urge to scream and cry. Though, after he comforted you and let you know it was okay to be upset and that you could let it all out. In which you did, you sobbed in his chest for what felt like hours. You screamed and sobbed and let out all the feelings you bottled up for the few hours you were at the family gathering. Eventually, you ran out of tears to cry and were only left with your own thoughts. You were overthinking, mostly dwelling on the words your family spoke out to you this evening, and couldn’t help but question if it was true.

“Sho...I’ve got to ask you something, kind of important.” You gently pushed away and sat up in the bed, looking at him. He stared at you, and nodded, letting you know it was okay to continue on. You took a deep breath and went for it, “Am I enough for you? I brought a lot of baggage and trouble into our relationship and I know it can’t be easy for you dating me, specifically with the backlash and comments that get made by my family and others about me transitioning and just. If you were with anyone else, I feel like you won’t get all this drama and I’m sorry I’ve brought so much of it onto you Shouta.”

You watched as his facial expression changed and you quickly looked away, finding interest in anything that wasn’t his face, afraid of what his reaction not only meant but the words that were about to follow. “Y/N, please look at me.” You slowly looked up and he placed a hand on your cheek. “I love you Y/N. I love you for you, you are my husband and I won’t want anyone else besides me. You are more than enough for me. And we both have a lot of baggage but that doesn’t change my feelings for you, we can work through it all together. I meant what I said in my vows and at our wedding and I still stand by it. Forever and always.”

You fiddled with your fingers before speaking up, “I love you Shouta so much, I’m just afraid one day I won’t be enough, cause as silly as it is, I don’t feel masculine or manly enough, that you’ll find more of a ‘real’ man one day and just leave me behind.” Tears filled your eyes and you looked down, just wanting to hide under the blankets.

“Y/N Aizawa, you are absolutely masculine and manly enough. I will never find anyone else or more a man than you. You are all I want, and all I need. I love you so much, don’t ever doubt my love for you, cause it is never-ending sweetheart.” Shouta spoke out, lifting your head up and placing a small kiss on your forehead before pulling you into his arms, holding you close. You just stayed there close, as Shouta whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you drifted off to sleep.

Shouta always made the holidays more bearable, but he also made life in general easier. He made waking up a little easier and helped with your hectic thoughts to calm you down. He truly was the love of your life and the best you could ever ask for. You couldn’t have gotten any luckier to have a husband as sweet and perfect as you. He may not be the number one hero to the rest of the world, but in your eyes and his heart, he was, he was your number one hero.

151 notes · View notes