#really this all only happened because i wanted to draw everyone with their respective flowers

[fluffyartbl0g]

Huh? Why are they called the Strawhat Pirates? Obviously because they all wear straw hats!!!! (Well except for the captain)

[inklessletter]

No, but hear me out; Steve is genuinely good with kids and toddlers. Like, absurdly good. He engages with them because he finds them not only adorable, but really fun to be around. Steve kind of gets how they think, loves to play with them, their funny logic, how seriously they take what’s happening in their busy little minds. He finds them fascinating, and they often surprise him in the best ways. Steve respects them, and kids perceive that and love and respect him back. Also, to Steve, spending time with kids is socially freeing. When he’s around kids he’s not worrying about social cues, or saying something wrong, or can stop paying attention to his manners or his looks.

Steve loves kids, and kids love him back. 

And Holly Wheeler is the living proof of that.

Read it on Ao3

There is a bonus scene of this, just saying

—

You drew stars (around my scars)

Mike was the only one in the family who actively resisted to like Steve. Since he set foot in the Wheelers household, everyone in the family seemed to be head over heels for him. He had heard his father admitting more than once that Steve was a fine good young man; his mom was delighted with him since the very first dinner because he helped with the cleaning up after every time (he even brought flowers every now and then, ugh); and of course, he had to endure Nancy’s annoying pining and giggling for months. Then they started dating and he was at home almost every day and it was insufferable having him around every goddamn day. 

But the worst one was Holly.

Before Steve, Holly used to chase Mike around, wanting to be with him all the time. Of course, Mike shoved her out almost every time, especially when his friends were over. Lucas understood him; he knew what having an annoying little sister was like. Sometimes she was around, when they were drawing their D&D characters, Will would save a seat for her and let her borrow his big box of colors, or Dustin gave her treats under the table.

Mike Wheeler didn’t want to deal with Holly after him all the time, but when Steve showed up, Holly got totally smitten with him. He wouldn’t pressure her to give him a kiss, but instead, he high fived her. Steve called Holly “Super Star”.

“Hey, what’s up, Super Star? How was school today? Did Timmy borrow your doll? Again?”

“Hey Super Star, wanna sit next to me for dinner? I bet I can beat you, I’ll eat my baby carrots faster than you!”

“I heard Super Star was feeling funny in the tummy today. Are you okay? Will you feel better if we make a tea party with your stuffed buddies? Yeah?”

Then, suddenly Super Star didn’t want to do anything with Mike anymore. Now it was all Steve. 

(Sure, Mike didn’t like having her around, but he didn’t want Steve to steal her from him either. That’s two out of two, not that long ago, Nancy actually DMed campaigns for him and his friends, and then she decided she liked him and now it was suddenly a dumb game.)

When Nancy dumped his stupid ass in November of 1985 Mike almost made a happy dance. The nightmare was over.

But the fucker appeared at the door the day before Christmas with a gift for Holly. He didn’t stay for dinner, but he handed it to Karen. 

It was a stupid light board.

Dustin was suddenly attached to him now. Now they were friends. Lucas was also fond of him. Steve was cool now for his friends too, apparently. And don’t get him wrong, what he did to defend them was amazing. He hated to admit that it was a little bit cool (but Steve’s panicked face when he woke up in the back of Billy’s car driven by Max was awesome). 

Yeah, after all that shit they talked a little bit. Mike made himself crystal clear that he still didn’t like him, and Steve just sighed and told him that he knew. Mike was about to go victorious after that, but Stupid Steve had to add “anyhow, if you need anything, you can always reach me.”

He still kept showing up for Holly’s birthdays. He still brought her Christmas presents secretly. Mike knew that Steve showed up considerably early when he was going to pick him up and his friends to give them a ride to the arcade, or to the mall, or wherever just to spend half an hour playing with Holly. 

Holly laughed the loudest whenever they were playing in the living room together. And it’s not that Mike wasn’t glad that his sister was happy, it was just— He couldn’t be so flawless. Nancy called him bullshit, she must have seen something in him. No one was that perfect.

He was still around for the upcoming apocalypses. He was starting to make peace with the fact that Steve wasn’t going anywhere, when he stole yet another friend from Mike.

Now he and Eddie had bonded. 

They were often together and that riled Mike up like no other. Hawkins was full of people, did Steve have to put a goddamn spell on anyone around him?

Even when Mike hosted in his basement the Hellfire campaigns after Eddie graduated, Eddie showed up at his front door with Steve.

“You are not a Hellfire member, Steve,” Mike deadpanned.

As an answer, Steve lifted a box. A brand new toy doctor kit. He smiled.

“I didn’t come to see you anyway. Isn’t Holly’s birthday this weekend? I have an early gift for her.”

“You’re so lame.”

“Get new material, Wheeler,” Steve rolled his eyes.

Eddie observed the interaction, both of them coming in. Mike closed the door.

“Well, I mean, I’m not surprised you want to spend so much time with Holly, I guess you need someone of your intellect so you can stop feeling stupid all the time around adults.”

Steve stopped for a second. He looked at him as if he wanted to actually reply. He let out a sigh, and went upstairs. God, Mike resisted the urge to fully smile. He glanced at Eddie, who was giving him a dead serious, borderline angry look.

Mike rolled his eyes.

“Wheeler, while I do appreciate that you’re hosting the new campaign, I’m gonna say something, and I’m gonna say this just once, so listen carefully. Treat him like this once more, and you’re out of Hellfire.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“That’s bullshit!” 

“No, you being an asshole with him is. I already lectured Dustin for this, and now I’m lecturing you. I will not tolerate any Hellfire member to behave like this towards friends. That, that is bullshit.”

“He’s not my friend.”

“Like hell he’s not. He cares for you, he does shit for you and you not only do not thank him, you pay him by treating him like shit. He’s saved your ass several times. He pays your fucking late dues, man. Like, shit, give back the tapes on time, Christ.”

Mike was fully uncomfortable now. He crossed his arms and bit his tongue to not snap at Eddie any more.

“Look,” Eddie said, calming his tone. “I don’t know if anything happened between you two, and I don’t want to know, but he’s going through a lot lately. A lot, Mike. You don’t—Shit, you don’t have to like him. Just—just don’t treat him like this, okay? I’m serious about cutting you off Hellfire if you keep this shit.”

Eddie headed down the basement, and Mike was left uneasy.

That afternoon was by far his worst performance in D&D. He had been replaying the conversation with Eddie in his head on and off all the time, but Eddie didn’t give him shit for it, because he knew.

Eddie, an understanding DM as he was, called on a break, and Mike bolted upstairs.

He headed to Holly’s bedroom, the door wasn’t closed all the way. He stopped before coming in to put his thoughts in order and apologize properly. He heard the voices behind the door.

“Doctor Super Star, there are no more patients for you to save! You did great! You cured them all!” Steve said in a funny voice.

“But your tummy hurts!”

“My tummy hurts? Oh, no, ugh! It hurts so bad!”

Mike peeped, still hidden, observing the scene. He saw Steve doing a pretty poor performance of a faint, and he fell, belly up over the rug, amongst the plush toys scattered around. Holly, dressed as a doctor, rounded him and kneeled at his side. 

“I’m going to give you an injection to save you!”

“Oh, please, Doctor Super Star, please, it hurts so bad! N-no, Holly, holly don’t lift my—”

Holly did, and Mike froze. 

Both Wheelers looked at the sudden exposed skin of Steve, all covered in nasty, pink scars. Eddie’s words resonated in the back of his mind loud and clear, and he suddenly understood what Steve was going through lately. Those scars were—God, they were gruesome. That must have hurt like shit. He heard what happened, but now he was seeing it.

That could have been his sister.

Or Robin.

That could have been anyone there, but it was Steve.

Mike gulped, feeling a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach. 

“It’s okay, Holly,” Steve spoke softly, but Mike could feel the nervous, vulnerable tone after his words.

Holly passed a finger ever so slightly, over one of the scars. She looked both curious and serious. Steve’s abdomen flinched a bit.

“Does it hurt?” Holly asked, softly.

Steve closed his eyes and put on a flaky smile, facing the ceiling.

“Yeah,” Steve whispered. “Yeah they—they hurt sometimes.”

Steve let her wander her small hand, examining his torso. 

“They’re pretty.”

A silence. A broken voice. “They’re not.”

“Yes, they are. They look like stars.”

Then, Holly, slowly, put against his stomach a bright pink toy syringe and faked an injection.

“Now you’re cured. Now it doesn’t hurt.”

Mike couldn’t see Steve’s whole face, but he saw enough before he turned away from Holly to see. His expression crumpled, and he saw Steve’s bob apple up and down a couple times. If he wasn’t crying, he was about to.

“You cured me, Doctor Super Star. Good job!”

“Wait! I’m not finished!”

Holly jolted to his drawer, where he kept all her drawing stuff. She came back with a few colored sharpies, and got back to the same position she was before. Steve observed her. 

Then Holly put the sharpie nib softly against Steve’s belly, and he observed.

She drew stars over Steve’s scars.

“See? They are pretty. They’re stars.”

Steve smiled at her. She beamed.

“They are stars. They are pretty.”

After a few seconds, Steve cleared his throat and suggested Holly tidy up all around and draw for a little bit in the living room. Only then Mike reacted, and left the hallway, going back down to the basement.

By the look he gave Mike when he came back, Eddie must have noticed something weird in Mike, but didn’t say anything.

When it was time for all of them to leave (seriously, Mike had been a total disaster), Eddie hushed them all to the van. Steve was saying his goodbyes, and then Mike spoke before he left.

“Hey, Steve.”

He turned around. “Yeah?”

There was a silence, in which Mike tried to find the words. Steve waited.

“I never—I will give the tapes back on time from now on. I’m sorry for that.”

Steve was puzzled. 

“Okay?”

Mike was shit apologizing. Mike was shit communicating, at best. He was shit at being vulnerable. Mike was shit at feelings.

“Yeah, and—thank you for—you know. The, um—yeah.”

Mike pursed his lips, crossed his arms. He pinned his eyes to the floor. He could feel his ears and his cheeks grow hotter and pinker.

“Yeah. No problem.”

He could feel Steve’s soft smile in his voice.

“You can go now.”

“Yeah, okay. Bye, Mike,” he said. “Good night Doctor Super Star!” 

Holly waved him from Karen’s arms. She even threw him a kiss. He captured it in the air and put it in his pocket.

Mike rolled his eyes.

Ugh.

[skelnexswriting]

Flowers Pt.2

➪ | Pairing: | Ghost x reader

➪ | Warnings: | Fluff, Fem! reader, 3rd person POV,”Y/n” used, medic reader, soft ghost.

➪ | Summary: | Maybe flowers were Ghost’s thing after all. Because It certainly worked to capture the girl of his dreams.

➪ | A/n: | Sorry for the wait of pt. 2, i know a few were asking for it. So here it is!! Enjoy!

Part 1

--

“-Simon Riley”

Y/n couldn't help but just stare at the writing.

Was this some type of prank? The Simon 'Ghost' Riley. The name on the little white card just didn't seem real. Ghost seemed like anything but romantic.

Ghost wasn't known to be sweet or kind. He was harsh and strict. Ghost was someone that seemed like he wasn't capable of loving others. But maybe everyone was wrong.

Just like flowers were, maybe Ghost too was misunderstood. Now that Y/n recalls every interaction with him, he had been nothing but kind. Although he never said much, he always thanked Y/n for patching him up after a rough mission.

Ghost was also easier on Y/n compared to the others on the task force. It was as though that was his way of showing his feelings. Showing that he cared.

But the only way Y/n could truly know, is to confront Ghost himself...That was easier said than done. Y/n couldn't help but get nervous around him. Everyone did.

For y/n it was a different reason. She wasn't scared of him. Intimidated. Yes. But scared? No. She always found him intriguing. Like a mystery that had yet to be solved.

...

As Y/n made her way to Ghost's room, she couldn't help the butterflies she felt. Sure she had always had a small crush on the solider, but just the thought of him sending her flowers was enough to make her blush.

Knocking on the door, Y/n could hear some slight rustling from inside. Soon enough, ghost opened the door saying "what" harsher than he intended to.

"Hey Ghost! I was um..just wondering if you left this note." Y/n handed Ghost the note. Ghost already knew why y/n had came, even before she told him the reason.

Of course it was him that left the note..but how could he just tell her that. Ghost was finding it hard to find the words, continuing to stare at the card in his hand as if it'd tell him what to say.

Y/n could practically hear the cogs turning in his head. His eyes gave off more emotion than his body did. She could see the glint of nervousness that shined in his eyes.

"Hey, it's alright if it wasn't you. Might have been a prank or something." Y/n reassured him, getting ready to just turn around and forget this ever happened.

But before she could, his hand gently grabbed her wrist pulling her closer. Ghost took a breath before saying, “No wait. It..It was me.”

Ghost saw how Y/n was surprised. Now it was Y/n’s turn to have the cogs turn in her head. “Wha- Ghost..Why didn’t you just tell me, I mean why all the flowers? Not that i didn’t like them or anything-”

“Well I always hear you talking about flowers and how they are much more than just beauty.” Ghost cuts off her rambling.

“And well..they reminded me of you. You are so much more than just your beauty.”

Y/n was crumbling with every word. If he said anymore, she’d probably turn into a puddle of jelly. She didn’t know how he could get more romantic.

“I’m not the best with words so I thought that was the best way.”

Ghost looked everywhere but her eyes. Afraid he might find a hint of disgust or rejection in them. But he was shocked when he felt his mask lift past his lips.

Y/n wasn’t really focusing on the words that came out of his mouth, but rather the part of the mask that was covering his lips. Ghost was invading her senses. Drawing her closer like a magnet.

Soon Y/n found herself grabbing the edge of the mask, lifting it just enough to expose his lips. Even when she wanted nothing more than to tear off his mask and admire him, she would always respect his wishes.

Ghost exposed lips were soon covered again..but this time with her lips. The intoxicating feeling of y/n kissing him invaded his mind.

When Y/n went to pull away, he found himself chasing after her lips. He never wanted it to end. He craved for her touch.

He couldn’t help but feel disappointed when she began walking away. But when she said, “Hopefully I’ll be seeing you around lieutenant.” He knew this wouldn’t be the end of whatever relationship was blossoming

…

And it wasn’t the end. On their time off, they went on dates. Getting to know each other outside of the field. It was then that they could forget about all the horrors they see.

Ghost and Y/n were perfect together. They understood each other. Y/n knew that Ghost was misunderstood. And Ghost knew that y/n was much more than just beauty.

Soon the team noticed the change between the two. How Ghost would use his jokes to get a laugh out of y/n. Or the way Ghost visited the hospital wing more often.

They also noticed how y/n would stick around Ghost more. And how she would scold him more for getting hurt on missions.

Many people would miss these small things, but the task force saw right through them. Once their suspicions were confirmed, finding one of ghost mask in y/n’s room…Soap begrudgingly handed Gaz the 20 bucks he won.

In their own way, Ghost and Y/n were like flowers themselves. Waiting for the perfect time to blossom. And when they did, something beautiful came from it.

[starsomens]

Anon from the group chat heere

That girlie deactivated the accs she had for Bad Omens but called me to say that even though she's not into them anymore we can still be friends 😶 ingl, I get an off vibe about this situation that she just doesn't like them anymore cause Noah was seen with someone but I like to think that I'm a sympathetic bitch so I'll try to talk to her and tell her what you answered, thank youu, Star💋💋💋

🧍🏽‍♀️🧍🏽‍♀️🧍🏽‍♀️

With respect and love: your friends mindset needs some adjustments:…

I’m gonna go in a little little bit of a rant here because that is just ridiculous. If you can’t handle this concept, I don’t even think you should be into band or finding new band with Mail members if you’re gonna act this way.

Listen, I’m more than happy to help and I feel like I gave you an appropriate answer. However, I have to say something about this because that is not only stupid. It’s ridiculous and immature because you see an artist that is around on the opposite. Gender you’re just gonna not like them anymore? That’s so fucking stupid, here’s my thing unless you dated this person and they did you dirty why the fuck do you care. Respectfully he’s not gonna date you the closest you’ll ever be to him is probably in VIP. Maybe he comes off stage and touches your hand but just because he was around a female artist, does not mean anything, because how does that affect your life personally????

Are you gonna go through a divorce? Are you gonna fight for custody of your kids? Are you going to die?? No!

This is why parasocial relationships are so toxic because you see what happens then the artist, you no longer like them you don’t like who they are as a person and you don’t like their music and it makes no fucking sense. grow the fuck up and be realistic.

You want Noah to be your boyfriend? Find someone who is close to him because we need to be realistic and logical. It’s not going to happen the closest thing you’ll get is someone who looks like him

I say this with love and care because this mentality will have such a bad effect on people ans their mindsets. my thing is everyone has gone through it at some point. I went through it when I was younger, but I’m over it. I still think Noah is attractive.

will I be slightly sad once he gets into relationship? sure, because I’m delusional and I think I’m gonna have my Wattspad moment where he looks at me from the stage and picks me from the crowd But it’s all in my head. I know where to draw the line

Noah would not notice me would he ask me out on a date or give me flowers in a crowd of 1000 people. please be realistic for your sake, and for other people sake, mainly your friends.

So, with all the love and care, please reevaluate your choices, and the way that you think about celebrities and artist🤎

As for you anon, you get an off vibe because it’s something so off that typically is a little weird due to this kind of jealousy kind of thing being towards an artist who doesn’t know half our existence…. but I’m glad I can be of help against this is not to degrade her or belittle her but to try and make some sense out of this because really it’s not healthy and it doesn’t make any sense but I hope all goes well

[egcdeath]

the mediocre american bake-off

pairing: steve rogers x reader

summary: when you and steve participate in morgan’s annual bake-off, things get a little ugly.

word count: 2k

warnings: established relationship, joke arguments, fluff, poorly described process of baking, comedy, competitive spouses

author’s note: thank you all for being patient with me while my updates have been lacking.

you can find the rest of my masterlist here!

You and Steve had a strong relationship.

Your marriage was built on a foundation of mutual respect, strong communication, and the purest, most genuine form of love. Frankly, you were a marriage counselor’s wet dream. 

But just once a year, you two got ugly. 

You see, both you and Steve found yourselves to be competitive people. Typically, your competitive natures were able to be put into use in constructive ways. As a pair, you dominated team game night, and kicked ass on every mission you found yourselves working on. But, once the week of Morgan’s birthday rolled around, everything changed. 

For some reason, Tony thought it was a great idea for everyone who wanted to participate, to participate in an annual baking contest to make the best cake, and who were you to decline? 

It happened to be right up you and Steve’s alley; your first date was a dinner you’d cooked together at his place, one of your favorite de-stressing habits was working together to bake bread, and of course, you’d annually created and donated hundreds of cupcakes to children in the hospital together as a unit. Logically, it would make sense for you two to work together on the competition, but every year without fail, you two split due to ‘creative differences’.

This split was to the rest of your team’s pleasure, ultimately getting to indulge in two amazing cakes by the end of the week, and having a whole week to watch you bicker like children. Nat liked to say that it was humanizing to see that your relationship wasn’t all flowers and rainbows. 

For the past four years, the title of “Baker of the Year” had alternated between you and Steve. After the first year of the competition— despite Morgan being an extremely young child— your teammates saw just how ‘all out’ you two went, and decided for their own safety to not participate again. It was always some lame excuse for them, like their fridge broke or they couldn’t find any icing at the store at all. But deep down you knew that the team did not want to get caught in the crossfire of the Y/N/Steve brawl. 

This year was no different. You stalked behind Steve at your local Whole Foods, tilting your floppy hat down as you grabbed a gallon of milk from the refrigerator. Steve tossed a few boxes of butter into your cart— some for you and some for him— and you peered over at him.

“What’re you making this year, Rogers?” you questioned.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Rogers,” he hummed, setting a carton of heavy whipping cream into the basket. 

“Yeah, I would like to know. Maybe that’s why I asked,” you sped up your pace a bit to catch up to Steve. 

“You’ll find out exactly what it is when Morgan declares my cake the winner,” he shrugged. 

“Mhm. Very likely,” you said dryly, finding a large carton of eggs and gently setting it in the top section of your cart. “I admire your wishful thinking, though. Not only is my cake gonna taste amazing, it’s gonna look super cute too.”

“Shouldn’t you have a cake that looks and tastes good regardless?” Steve asked with a quirked brow as you strolled into the produce section. 

You stood by his side patiently as he inspected apples and tried to come up with a quippy response, but you were drawing a blank. “I mean, it’s gonna look really good. I ordered some things off of Amazon. It’s gonna be great.”

“I don’t know why, but buying extra props online doesn’t exactly sound fair,” he set the bag gently down in the cart. 

“Oh sweetheart,” you chuckled, “all is fair in love and war. Now let’s get out so we can start baking!”

——

When you arrived at the compound—where Tony insisted you cook, because of the good facilities and it’s closer to my place than your apartment! and definitely not because he wanted to have FRIDAY record you two fighting like dogs— you two got straight to work, setting aside your ingredients so that you wouldn’t mix them up with Steve’s. As you set your individual ovens to their proper temperatures, you stood back and took one final glance at your husband. 

“Let the games begin,” you said, grabbing the biggest bowl you could find from the cupboard. 

It was mostly quiet in the kitchen as you worked, with only the occasional joke being made or a ‘Behind you’. But it was only a matter of time before playful banter devolved into less playful taunting.

You were leaning over your stand mixer when Steve threw the first stone, idly standing by the stove while he watched his apples soften in a pan. 

“You sure that’s not box mix, babe?” he asked, sauntering over to the countertop where you were working and dipping a finger into the batter.

“Steve!” you slapped his hand away, and he licked his finger with a pensive look on his face. 

“Definitely boxed. Does Betty Crocker know you’re calling her work yours?” he locked eyes with you and smirked smugly. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment, but you’re being annoying. Get away from my station,” you bumped him lightly with your hip, and Steve took the message with a chuckle. “I hope you get salmonella,” you told him as he walked off. 

Not too long later while you greased your pan, Steve came up behind you and grabbed your hips, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin out of reflex. 

“Jesus, Steve! What are you doing?” you gasped, turning around and gently slapping a peck. 

“Just letting you know that my cake is in the oven…” he nuzzled your neck, “please, remind me where yours is again?” 

“Ha ha, very funny, Captain Obvious. I had no idea,” you reached for the batter that was still sitting in the mixing bowl on the stand. “This is your cue to leave, you horny bitch. You may be done, but I am not.”

If you saw Steve, you suspected he’d be pouting— or at least pretending to pout— but you refused to subject yourself to that. Hands released your hips, and there was suddenly an absence behind you. 

Once your cake was in the oven and your icing was going to be whipped for quite some time, you decided to go bother Steve, sitting on top of his countertop while he stood across from you and scrolled on his phone. 

“Is the loser doing the dishes?” you asked, swinging your legs. 

“Mhm,” he hummed before looking up at you. 

“Okay, cool. If that’s the case, then I think I’m gonna go paint my nails. Or maybe I’ll accidentally get an open wound or two,” you said with a smirk. 

“Very likely,” Steve chuckled, setting his phone down and dramatically taking a whiff of the air. “Do you smell that?”

“What, the scent of victory?” you teased. 

“No, I think your cake is burning. Or maybe it just.. naturally smells like that,” you rolled your eyes at his faux concern. 

“Ooh, you got me,” you couldn’t help but giggle. It felt weird to be poorly trash talking your husband in the manner that you were. “With all the shit-talking you’re doing, you better have the best cake I’ve ever tasted in my life.”

“I can’t believe you’re doubting my baking abilities!” 

At that moment, Sam peeked into the kitchen, made eye contact with Steve, then promptly turned away. You two howled with laughter for a moment before you received a text telling you how good the kitchen smelled. 

By the time your cakes were out and decorated, FRIDAY had alerted you that Morgan’s party was starting in just a few minutes. You stared proudly at your devil’s food cake, quite accurately decorated like a beehive. It was probably your best work yet. If Mary Berry were in the kitchen with you, she would be proud. 

You stood with your hands on your hips and admired both of the beautiful cakes in front of you, thinking of the hard work you’d put into making the delicious treats. “That looks like shit, Steve. Maybe you should stick to showing off the cake that’s attached to your body,” you teased. You’d be lying if you said your mouth wasn’t salivating at the sight of that upside-down cake. 

—-

You sat with an almost smug face at a wooden picnic table next to Steve while Morgan examined the three cakes in front of her: Steve’s apple upside-down cake, your devil’s food cake, and what looked like a last minute thrown together Funfetti cake from Scott.

She decided to try your cake first, directing Pepper to cut her a slice while your team members watched in excited anticipation. You had to admit, it looked pretty amazing. 

She used a fork to get a nice big bite, and hummed as she chewed. Things were looking promising for you. You glanced over at Steve to give him a smirk as Morgan clearly enjoyed your cake. At the sight of you, a small smile quirked on his own face. 

Morgan simply nodded, keeping a neutral poker face, then received a slice of the upside-down cake. You really couldn’t read her reaction, but unless you were losing it, it seemed like she felt the same way about Steve’s as she felt about yours. A simple hum and a nod was all you two received. Steve gave your foot a light tap under the table, and you shook your head at him.

Finally, Morgan grabbed a slice of Scott’s sloppily put together cake that appeared to be straight out of the box. Morgan grinned as she chewed, then went in for another forkful. And another. 

Oh no.

There was a collective tension in the yard from your teammates as they all looked back at both of you in shock. The next words that were about to come out of Morgan’s mouth would surely rock your world. 

“Mm, this one is the best!” she cheered, “whoever made this is a winner winner chicken dinner.”

Scott stood up at his table, and everyone in the backyard clapped, including a hesitant applause from you and Steve. What an absolute wild card. 

You gave each other curious looks; your brows creased, and his raised with surprise. Both at a loss for words for just a moment, you extended your hand before bursting out into laughter, “Good game.”

Steve shook your hand vigorously as he laughed right along with you, “Good game indeed. Now, I’d love to try some of your cake. It looks fucking delicious.”

“Really? Just a few hours ago, you were telling me just how bad it looked,” you teased, standing up and taking his hand as you walked over to the table where Morgan was poorly slicing your cakes.

After receiving lopsided slices, you made your way back to your picnic table and dug right into your cakes. With just one bite, you both were making muffled moans. 

“Christ, Steve. What did you put in this?” you gasped, immediately going in for another bite. 

“Are you kidding? This is like, better than sex.”

“I’ll remember you said that,” you said as you chewed. 

There was a silence between you two for a few minutes as you chewed and appreciated the talent of one another. 

“So will you be doing the dishes, or will I?” you asked between forkfuls of Steve’s cake. 

He paused to take another bite of your cake, humming in satisfaction as he did so. “Well you know what they always say,” Steve began before away some yellow icing from his lips. “Teamwork makes the dream work. I’ll do your dishes, and you can do mine.”

“Mm, sounds good,” you nodded. “I still can’t believe Scott beat us. There had to have been some sort of bribery going on.”

“Oh absolutely. We’re not just being sore losers on this either,” Steve agreed. 

“When have we ever been known to be sore losers?” you teased. “I guess we’ll just have to up our game next time.”

“No idea how you’re going to do that.”

“You flatter me, Steve,” you giggled. “Well, I guess this is the end for now. ‘Till next year?”

“‘Till next year. But we should probably work on our recipes so we don’t get bested by cake from a box again.”

[badgerbl00d]

i promise

☆ characters: monster trio

☆ up next: one piece boys getting jealous part 1

☆ summary: angsty scenarios paired with a song

Sanji Vinsmoke:

Baby, though I've closed my eyes

I know who you pretend I am

You were carrying water out to the open sea.

Making exhausting mental trips back and forth between what you knew was lost and what you wanted so desperately to save.

He still did you the favor of leaning into your touches, listening to you when you spoke with the same lying smile and false dedication he promised you when you first met. He still talks to you like he means it. He still touches you, embraces you, and even has the nerve to kiss you, like he doesn’t wish it was her.

It’s obvious. When he traces his lips along your ear and tells you that men across the seven seas wish they had you.

Your *h/c* hair, your easygoing, timid personality, your abilities and talents.

But he really meant that they- that he wished for that red hair, that charming attitude that drove men to their knees, those map drawing skills that are unparalleled, the navigation abilities that leave everyone speechless and starstruck.

Anything. He’ll say anything, to pretend that you’re her.

But you can’t bring yourself to walk away. Because every time that you think you might, you find flowers on your bed. Or your favorite meal is made. The dress you were looking at is wrapped up in a box that’s your favorite color with a handwritten note containing jokes that only the two of you would laugh at.

So when you’re alone

And he trails a delicate hand up your face

And leaves gentle kisses along your jaw and down your neck

And tells you that he loves you

You can only close your eyes, and shut them tight

So you don’t have to watch as he looks directly at her as he does it all

You can only sit there and think to yourself

I know who you pretend I am

Roronoa Zoro:

You make me want to scream at the top of my lungs

It hurts but I won’t fight you

It wasn’t how he was supposed to leave.

You always knew he would, too great for such a small town.

You’d met right after Kuina’s funeral. Your ambitions faced nearly all the opposite directions as his. He wanted to be the greatest. Feared and known, respected and revered throughout the world, across the seas, and beyond human limitations.

He wanted to be the name in legends. And he would.

You only wanted comfort. A big, hidden house to yourself. Maybe him too. You both wanted to see what the world could offer, what it could fix, what it might break.

You never had any doubts. You knew he would leave one day.

But it wasn’t supposed to be like that.

You’d always watch him train, giving him company when no one else seemed to want to. You listened, when he had something to say. He didn’t just speak around you, he spoke to you. Some common element, perhaps loneliness, perhaps fate, drew you together. He exhaled around you, letting himself relax. It was where his bad napping habit emerged. When the days were cool and the rain was just barely sprinkling, you’d find yourself asleep on his shoulder, his head resting on yours, pinkies intertwined. A sign of the promise he’d made.

I’ll take you with me.

It was sudden when it happened. You read as he trained, tirelessly.

Tomorrow morning, he’d announced. Tomorrow morning he’d leave. That was your warning. That was the time you had to prepare yourself to leave.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t leave yet.

And he knew that.

Your protests fell on deaf ears.

He kept his back to you, not daring to look you in the eyes.

You swallowed the bubbling sentiment in your throat. You wanted to scream, to cry and shout and curse him for doing something so awful. For betraying you in such a manner.

But was it really betrayal?

Was it ever a real promise?

Were you ever enough to have seriously considered the words he spoke with a forked tongue?

Words failed you. Emotion failed you. He failed you. You stayed quiet. -

He’d promised.

He took your hand in his, wrapping his pinky around yours.

This is for her, he said, This is for Kuina. Not for you.

He was gone.

It hurt.

But who were you to fight him?

Monkey D. Luffy:

I'd like to know why you are all alone while I'm lost at sea

Maybe I'll be there when you want

He was so much more than you’d ever been able to be.

He was sunlight and laughter.

His existence an invitation to all to follow in his steps and do something great.

Become kings and emperors and legendary pirates and thieves.

You met him and were enthralled. His voice, his wild hair, bright eyes, and his laugh, oh god, his laugh, you could get drunk off of him.

His sixth sense, his ability to bring anyone out from whatever cave they found themselves lost in, must have blared around you. He’d promised to make you better.

He tried so hard, so, so, so hard to help you.

He stayed in your town, sitting up on the mast of his ship, beckoning you to sit with him, to look out over the ocean, the vast expanse of everything you’d never get to see.

Your sickness wouldn’t allow it.

If you strayed too far from comfort, from safety you knew you would die before you’d even get to fully enjoy it.

An unwilling prisoner, you sat, day in and day out tethered to yourself. You could run and walk and if you wanted, you could have left with him.

They had a good doctor, good friends.

He had a good heart and his smile was almost enough to change your mind.

Almost.

He’d left rapidly, some panic had set the crew off.

He smiled at you from the mast, but he was rotted from the inside out with the guilt of not having helped you.

He couldn’t cure incurable illnesses. But he’d have liked to see you smile.

Really smile.

He’d promised, after all.

You followed after the ship, racing out to the dock they had already departed from. You ran until the ground ran out from under you and you found yourself trying to stay afloat in water.

The taste of salt filled your senses, the chill of the water seeping through your clothes and skin, and it felt like heaven.

It felt like the sea he described with fire in his eyes and dreams in his voice.

And you stayed in the sea, waving at him until he couldn’t wave back anymore.

And finally, after years and years and years, you smiled.

But they’d left.

Their log pose had set to the next island.

The following months were dull. Grey and lifeless. No laughter was even reminiscent of his. No stories as absurd as his. No hair as tousled and jet black, no friendships as strong, no man as great.

Only when a letter arrived, another two months later, did color reappear in your life.

His writing was awful, nearly illegible. But, by god, was it his.

He wrote about his adventures, of how he would have liked you with him.

He begged you to set sail to the sea. To come see him.

How can you be so alone? he asked, When I’m here, lost at sea.

Come find me, he asked. Come find me.

Maybe I'll be there when you want.

[emmacifer]

Art analysis: 'Poe and Ranpo' chapter-opening art

The upward eight of swords? The Black Cat? The Murders in the Rue Morgue?

*Spoilers ahead for the manga, ‘The Black Cat’ by Edgar Allan Poe, ‘The Murders in the Rue Morgue’ by Edgar Allan Poe

Chapter 32 is the chapter where Poe challenges Ranpo and Yosano, but mostly Ranpo, to solve a mystery he has spent 6 years meticulously constructing, thinking that he finally would have his revenge on Ranpo. And, for what’s worth, I think it’s interesting to point out the potential references that are embedded in this chapter opening art.

# All my analyses are personal opinions and I do not mean to override any takes the reader might have. That being said...

The first reference is the upward eight of swords.

In the art, we can see a hand, or possibly just the hand of a body, reaching out from a coffin, and eight swords in an upright position jutting out of it. I haven’t really learned anything about tarot cards before but after reading up on it, I feel like it might have something significant to the card of the upward eight of swords. Please do correct me if I am wrong on any accord.

The upward eight of swords represents a situation where you feel trapped in a situation but you have no way out. The more that you think about it, the more that you feel trapped. But in actuality you are not bound by the situation itself but the thoughts by which you chain yourself. You are able to escape the situation if you want to.

In the tarot card, the woman is fenced by the upright swords but isn’t necessarily imprisoned by them. She would know that she can escape if only she’d take the blindfold off.

So far in the manga, there has been two scenes where Ranpo admits that he does not have an ability and that his deduction skills are his own observative intelligence and methodology:

Chapter 32, which we are analysing right now

And, chapter 56, where he tells Mushitaro he will defeat him even though he does not have an ability, but since his comrades think he’s invincible (dazaiscans)

Ranpo kept telling Yosano all throughout the first part of the chapter that he needed his glasses so that they could solve the mystery of the novel they were trapped in and return to the real world. He's shown to have not wanted to question the guests or investigate his surroundings, but since Ranpo's "ability" has always been himself, he is subconsciously or unconsciously doing it anyways. He notices things when he's not even having to put in the effort to do so. He can point out his deduction process and justify the outcome as he always does.

But he still said that he wasn't doing fine. I don't mean to mischaracterize Ranpo in any way, he is a very brilliant character with a childish, occasionally teasing personality but serious when the time calls for it. But in this chapter, his initial statement that says he couldn't use his ability because he did not have his glasses, did put him in a tight place for a hot minute. Now this is what would relate to the upward eight of swords. The card symbolizes a situation where you feel trapped in a situation but it is not the situation itself binding you, but your thoughts. You are able to escape if you want to. The lady in the card is able to escape if only she took her blindfold off. I wouldn’t necessarily say Ranpo is in denial of the fact that he does not have an ability, because, evidently, he very much is aware of said fact and acknowledges it himself.

The second reference is the black cat behind the window.

While most ability users in BSD have their abilities named after a famous work of them or a reference to one of their works, Poe's ability name ‘Black Cat in the Rue Morgue’ has a combination of two of his works: 'The Black Cat' and ' The Murders in the Rue Morgue'. And the mystery novel that he introduced Ranpo to in Chapter 32 also seems to be a combination of the tales of irl Poe's two stories, 'The Black cat' and 'The Murders in the Rue Morgue', with, I'd say, only the exception of it being set in the future since the original novels of irl Poe did not have any futuristic elements in them. I’m not saying that the mystery novel is an exact replica and combination of the two irl novels, it’s just that the overall atmosphere of the novel seems to somewhat reflect certain elements of the irl novels.

The Black Cat is a story about a man who hanged his own cat from a tree and later killed his own wife in the heat of a moment. The protagonist of this novel enjoyed drinking to the extreme and it was in the moments when he was highly intoxicated that he committed acts such as gouging out the eye of his beloved cat, Pluto, and hitting his wife over the head with an axe, accidently killing her.

The Murders in the Rue Morgue is a story of how the intelligent mind of Auguste Dupin solved the muder mystery of two french ladies who were killed by an unknown murderer in their apartment at Rue Morgue street. Said unknown murderer later turned out to be an orangutan that a sailor captured from Borneo then brought to Paris, In the novel, several people known to have heard the murder were questioned individually about the unknown culprit, just like how the people in the mansion were questioned about the murderer in chapter 32, in the novel. It could be said that questioning witnesses is a common theme that can be found for any mystery story but it’s just an interesting similarity.

The thing about the mystery novel BSD Poe wrote was that-

a) There was a murderer whom the people did not know

b) The protagonist was trying to find out who the murderer is

c) The protagonist himself was the murderer

In the story of ‘The Murders in the Rue Morgue’,

a) There was a murderer whom the people did not know

b) The protagonist, or protagonists, since there were two of them, were trying to find out who the murderer is

Obviously BSD Poe’s mystery novel did not feature an orangutan that accidently happened to kill people but that is where the element of the story of ‘The Black Cat’ comes in, because the protagonist of ‘The Black Cat’ murdered both his cat and his wife in the name of intoxication, which leads us to

c) The protagonist himself is the murderer

Personally, I feel like ‘The Murders in the Rue Morgue’ fits better than ‘The Black Cat’ for the references in BSD, since it features a protagonist, who was amazed by an individual who had a very observant mind. The protagonist of the novel had much admiration for Auguste Dupin’s thought process and how he could read something seemingly simple to deduce something deep out of it. Much like the admiration and respect that Poe has for Ranpo’s ability, the non-ability.

The third reference is the roses.

Everyone knows that roses are typically associated with love, romance and passion, but they could also have different meanings depending on their color and their symbolisms in different cultures. Yellow roses in Japanese culture are said to mean jealousy, at least according to source. It might symbolize the jealousy that Poe has of Ranpo and his aspiration to beat Ranpo. But he is equally jealous of it as he is fascinated by it, which orange roses can symbolize: fascination and desire. They could also mean enthusiasm and passion, both of which Poe has for Ranpo’s company and ability. He admires Ranpo and his ability, in the way that one would admire their opponent in a friendly rivalry sort of relationship. He is constantly awed by it, and draws a lot of inspiration from Ranpo.

In conclusion, I think the fascination that Poe has of Ranpo and the fact that Ranpo acknowledges his and Poe’s encounter six years ago as ‘the only time I got pushed to my limits by another detective’(easygoingscans) is very compatible of them and I do believe that their rivalry and friendship is something that helps both of them grow and benefits both individuals. It is something beautiful.

Some more sources below for the meaning of roses if anyone wants to find out more!! Also thank you so much nika @nikadoesanart for beta-ing this analysis >//<

https://www.pickupflowers.com/flower-guide/rose-flower-meanings.

https://www.thursd.com/articles/different-colors-of-roses-and-their-meaning/

https://blossomtown.com/bt-news/what-do-flowers-mean-find-flower-language/

[mikalara-dracula]

💋for Karlheinz, Cordelia, Laito, Ayato, Subaru, Reiji and Azusa

How they express PDA with their s/o

Ft. Karlheinz, Cordelia, Laito, Ayato, Subaru, Reiji, and Azusa

Hi there, Anon!

Thank you so much for requesting! Hope you enjoy it! Please feel free to request again anytime. :))

Karlheinz:

Karl is quite the charismatic type of partner.

Definitely a charmer that can easily bewitch anyone he sets eyes upon.

He comes off as mysterious but is a gentleman to the woman he has an interest in.

That being said, if he desires someone, he’ll have them no matter the cost.

Even though he’s a charmer, he likes to display his affection in lots of ways, but mostly in private.

He loves having you lay down next to him in his bed, where he can caress your face, have you lay on top of him, and share the most intimate kisses with you whilst his hand travels down your spine.

Likes to wrap his arms around your waist and hold you close to his torso.

Likes to leave you roses for no apparent reason with small love notes to reassure you of his love for you.

If he’s feeling playful, he’ll pick you up bridal style and spin you in his arms so he can hear your laughter.

It’s literal music to his ears.

“You truly are the rarest beauty any man has come across. How does one even stay away with the way you tempt me with those eyes of yours?”

Cordelia:

Cordelia is a very scandalous woman as we can recall from her character.

She likes to keep her relationship absolutely ravenous and loves the risk of getting caught if she’s seeing more than one person.

When it comes to PDA with her s/o, it can range from being in secret or to being flat-out explicit.

For instance, she enjoys kissing her lover when no one’s looking.

Or, having them wrap their arms around her waist in front of everyone to show that she’s taken.

Loves to leave her s/o wanting and begging for more.

Likes to meet them at odd times (mostly at night) and in places where no one typically goes so they can be alone.

Enjoys sitting down next to her s/o or on their lap.

She really enjoys it if her s/o caresses her face or kisses her hand.

Likes to call her s/o by small pet names like ‘dear’ or ‘darling’.

Loves it when her s/o whispers sweet nothings into her ear whilst they have their arms wrapped around her waist from behind.

“I could listen to your sweet voice all day, my love.”

Laito:

Laito is very open when it comes to PDA.

He isn’t afraid to express how he feels at all.

He likes to keep his relationship fun and exciting, which leads him to express his affection to larger extent.

Likes to skip class with you just to make out with you in the vacant halls.

Definitely likes to keep you on the edge and leave you begging for more.

If you both have a class together, he likes to sit at the very back with you, casually stroking your thighs or occasionally slipping his hand in between to make you squirm and blush.

He literally lives for the thrill of almost getting caught by the teacher, and loves seeing the faces you make when he catches you off guard for doing this.

This mf xDD

Likes to whisper perverted things into your ears in the middle of class in hopes that you laugh out loud and that you’d have to explain yourself to the teacher/class as to why you’re laughing.

While you’re walking through the halls at school, he likes to walk slightly behind you and stick his hand under your skirt and feel that area just to throw you off guard.

He doesn’t even mind if the hall is crowded and others are watching, he just loves the thrill of catching you off guard and showing others that you’re his.

“No need to be shy, baby. I can’t help it if you’re tempting me.”

Ayato:

Likes to show his possessive side when it comes to this--that is, is some guy is chatting you up, he won’t hesitate to pull you to his side or wrap his arms around you in front of the guy.

On top of this, he won’t bother to hold back his tongue either and warn the guy to not talk to you.

He constantly has his hands on you to show others who you belong to.

Will make out with you in more secluded areas; is also into pushing you against lockers to do this if the hallway is empty.

During the makeout, he also likes to undo a few buttons of your uniform blouse.

Will also mark you up with hickies and bites in places you can’t hide.

If you’re sitting not too far away from him in class, he likes to pass you notes that say when and where to meet if he wants to drink from you, or just wants to make out.

Or, if it’s none of that, he likes to send you perverted notes, or even lewd drawings that make you whip your head in his direction, only to see him laughing whilst you’re trying not to blush.

Even though Ayato seems like he’s the dominant one in the relationship, you sometimes like to prove him wrong by pulling on the tie of his uniform and pulling him for a kiss in the halls.

Which leaves him beyond shocked and red after you pull away.

He really doesn’t know how to handle it and ends up walking off embarrassed, whilst you just giggle at his flustered reaction.

With you doing this tho, he’s bound to get you back by smacking your bottom in the busy hall and then taking off as nothing happened, leaving you to not only blush at what he did, but also at the fact that other students saw what he did.

It’s honestly a constant back and forth with you two getting back at each other, but it’s what keeps you two on the edge and only leaves you two wanting more.

“Heh, you just can’t stay away from yours truly at all, can you?”

Subaru:

Oh my, he has a hard time with this.

This might be harder than school for him.

He’s quite brash in general and tends to act like he doesn’t care about you when he truly does.

When expressing PDA, he definitely likes it to be private and out of sight from anyone who might linger.

Like a certain fedora-wearing vampire.

He won’t admit it, but he secretly loves it when you sleep in his coffin with him.

It makes him feel warm, a feeling he isn’t too familiar with but loves indulging in.

Likes holding your hand and pulling you into him as you sleep.

Might even steal a kiss from your lips or place one on your forehead while you’re sleeping in hopes that you don’t wake up.

Enjoys being in the rose garden alone with you where he can either drink your blood or share sweet kisses with you.

He doesn’t do this often, but he will pick a rose and give it to you.

Likes to stargaze with you while lying down next to you.

Sometimes picks and places a small flower in your hair, a few soft kisses being exchanged in between as you both view the night sky.

“I know I don’t ever tell you this but . . . you’re beautiful, Y/N.”

Reiji:

Reiji only finds the display of public affection to be rather displeasing and uncivil.

He believes such things should be expressed in private.

But when in private tho, he’s an animal ;)))

Likes to back you up into the bookshelf of his lab and share slow and passionate kisses with you.

When getting intimate, you sometimes like to tease him by slipping off his glasses.

Roams his hands around your body and holds you in place for him to drink from you.

When the moment is right, he likes to look into your eyes and kiss your hand, slowly trailing his kisses up your arm.

Oh Rei you’re such a gentleman ;)))

If you’re working on an experiment with him in his lab, he likes to place his hands on your hips from behind while you’re busy working on something.

Or even wrap them around your waist and rest his head in the crook of your neck from behind.

Will even slightly tickle you or poke your sides while you’re working on something just to distract you.

Likes to watch your subtle movements while working.

When working on an experiment with him, he really likes seeing how focused you look.

If Reiji is feeling a little playful, he’ll play with your hair and stroke/touch it while you’re not looking and immediately return to what he was doing before to avoid getting caught.

He’ll pretend it wasn’t him when you’d accuse him, saying that you’re just imagining things.

Likes to also sit you on his lab bench and straddle you to his liking whilst decorating your collarbone with kisses, hickies, and bites.

“I’m the only one I don’t want you to be quiet for.”

Azusa:

Azusa’s a total sweetheart.

He’d never do anything to make you uncomfortable when it comes to this subject.

Honestly doesn’t mind if PDA between you two is private or not.

It’s whatever you want.

If you feel comfortable expressing PDA around others, he’s more than open to it.

If you’re shy about such things and want to keep it private, he’ll respect your wishes.

He kisses your forehead and your cheek the most.

Is always intertwining his hand with yours.

Likes to lay down next to you and play with your hair, and listen to the sound of your voice as you both exchange conversation.

He also enjoys sleeping next to you, having his arm wrapped around your waist while holding you close to him.

Loves to place sweet kisses or nibble on your earlobe just to hear you laugh.

He really loves giving you Eskimo kisses, mostly because he likes to see the smile that appears on your face each time this happens.

“You are . . . so cute, Y/N.”

[shywitchyfangirl]

Tips for Beginning Spirit Workers!

Me? Posting something useful instead of just memes? GASP!

1. Plan communication and housing methods in advance. This is your responsibility, not the spirits’. Housing can include binding them to an object, binding them to yourself, letting them wander your house, or (my personal method) building an astral temple for them. Communication can take all kinds of forms, including dreams, hallucinations, Ouija boards, body sensations, intrusive thoughts, and telepathy. When starting out, you’ll probably be working with sensations and intrusive thoughts, and work your way up to other forms. An important thing to remember is if you’re ever unsure if something was them, assume it was. False negatives do far more harm than false positives when you’re trying to learn how to communicate. Assuming your spirit said something they didn’t might annoy them, but denying real messages will prevent you from developing your senses and harm your relationship with them.

2. Set boundaries and keep them! It doesn’t matter who they are, how powerful they are, or if they’re a literal god. You have rights, and they do not own you. Take no excuses, make no compromises. You don’t need to explain anything. If you give some spirits an inch, they’ll take a mile. I have a rule that no one can possess me while I’m on my period. Why? Because I don’t want them to, end of discussion. If anyone throws a fit about your boundaries, you don’t want to work with them anyway. If you’re planning to let them stick around, setting house rules is also very important! (”Don’t mess with the other human residents” is always a good starting point.)

3. Doubt happens. Even the most experienced spirit worker has moments of “Oh gods, I’m just crazy and talking to myself.” Don’t beat yourself up over it! Healthy skepticism is what keeps us sane. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad spirit worker. Try taking a moment to reflect on the times when your spirits did something that proved themselves to you, because I promise, those moments will happen too! One of my earliest moments was when a spirit possessed my and drew a bunch of dicks in my notebook before I even realized what she was drawing. If you haven’t had one of those moments yet, just remember the golden rule: You can’t be imagining it, because your imagination should never surprise you.

3.5 Know your craft, not others’. Related to the above, a big source of doubt is when you read about other spirit workers’ doing things differently. Remember, the term UPG (Unverified Personal Gnosis) exists for a reason. Your Mileage May Vary! Every spirit worker experiences spirits differently. Different doesn’t mean wrong. Figure out what’s best for you and your spirits, and have confidence in your craft.

4. Don’t trust just anyone. Not every spirit you contact will be on your side. Some have their own agenda, others just want a plaything. Some spirits will pretend to be someone else to get past your defenses. The best way to stay safe is to always trust your instincts. If a spirit gives you a “bad vibe,” DITCH THEM. Never give them the benefit of the doubt. There is not a single spirit you NEED to have in your life, and thus there’s no reason to give a sketchy spirit a chance. Aside from that, don’t just assume any spirit you contact will be friendly and benevolent. Most spirit workers go through a “vetting” period of at least 3 months before deciding if a spirit is truly good to join their team. Yes, THREE MONTHS. You don’t want to allow just any powerful astral being into your life, do you? Remember, spirits have power, and they CAN hurt you. If you wouldn’t allow any random stranger into your house, don’t allow any random spirit into your life.

5. Do your research! Spirits aren’t human, and they don’t have the same wants and needs as humans. Research in advance what the particular species you’re summoning wants and needs. If they’re from a pop culture series, research the series. Research their friends, family, and enemies. Know who they will or won’t work well with. If they’re a nonhuman character, pay special attention to their species’ attributes, such as behavior, communication, and any unusual needs or weaknesses. You are responsible for your spirits’ safety while they’re with you! Remember, there’s no such thing as knowing too much. The more you know, the better prepared you’ll be!

6. Respect their boundaries. Not every spirit wants to be worshipped, especially pop culture ones. Some find it flattering, others find it creepy. Similarly, not every spirit wants to be your best friend forever, and not every spirit is eagerly waiting for your call every second of every day. Spirits may be cool, but don’t be a stalker. Give them some dang space. Also accept that many spirits don’t plan to stay with you forever. There may be a few that will be with you until you die (or even follow you to your next life!) but the vast majority have lives outside of you just like humans do, and there will be a time when you don’t need them or vice versa. Don’t feel bad about them leaving, and don’t try to force them to stay. Spirits come and go, and it does not mean you’re a bad spirit worker if you lose a few allies. Your closest friends will be the ones who choose you, and those are the ones you really want in your inner circle.

7. Don’t call up what you can’t put down. Always always ALWAYS have a banishing spell ready, and be sure to start small. Practice with a simple Pikachu before you go summoning Arceus. And keep that banishing spell handy during the vetting period! Many spirit workers suggest doing a banishing spell after every summoning unless you plan on letting the spirit stay permanently. It’s also always a good idea to have some kind of restraint the first few times you call on a spirit, even if it’s just a circle of salt. Personally I like to keep one of my stronger spirit family members around to babysit the new guys.

8. Always stay protected. Shield spells are your best friends. Use them. Keep them updated. There is never a reason to not be shielded. There is also never a reason to not have your house protected. At least once a month, update your wards, cleanse and banish everything, and recharge your home’s energy. Don’t worry, you can set your wards to whitelist your approved spirit family and any specific spirits you want to lure in, but it’s best to not allow just anyone in off the street. Consider placing sigils around to mark your territory as your own, or you may find someone or something trying to move in and claim your house for themselves! 

9. Know the facts about spirit attacks. The first rule is that you’re probably NOT being attacked. If you have to think “Was that a spirit? Am I being attacked?” you’re definitely not being attacked. Spirits are empowered by your fear, they WANT you to know they’re attacking you. One time when I was attacked, the spirit broke my rainbow fountain right in front of me in a way that made both separate lights simultaneously only glow blood red. That doesn’t just happen. And then they immediately and obviously tried to pull me out of my body so they could take it over. The other two times, the spirits tried so hard to suck me out of my body that it made me disoriented and felt like someone was vacuuming my head while my body felt cold. Spirit attacks are always obvious because they’re trying to scare you. Which leads to the second rule: NEVER PANIC. The more afraid you are, the more power they have over you. Stay calm, put up a shield, call a trusted alley to aid you, and banish their ass to next week. Remember, most spirits who attack are just bullies looking for a new toy to torment. Even a simple “fuck off” can give them the message you’re not worth the trouble.

10. Be prepared before opening up to possession. Possession is real, and it can be dangerous. With a trusted ally, it’s tons of fun, and you can even ask them to handle things like chores for you. With literally anyone else, you’re putting your life at risk. There is nothing stopping a strong enough spirit from throwing you off the nearest bridge. The good news is that forced, full possession is rare. The bad news is it can still happen, and it’s very hard to stop when it does. This is why it’s so important to vet your spirit allies before allowing them close to you, ESPECIALLY before letting them possess you. If a spirit shows any sign of not respecting your boundaries, get them the hell out of your life. Luckily, partial possession is much more common (when you’re still in control but either being influenced, or only your limbs are moving without your input). This version can be fought off via internal struggle or countered with a cleansing spell or an ally’s help.

11. Get creative with offerings. Offerings are Spiritwork 101. You won’t be getting a lot of help from spirits if you don’t pay them back. But the important part is knowing exactly what to give them. There are certainly things that are standard, and things that are easy enough to guess (Moon water for the moon goddess, flowers for the nature spirit, etc.) But the best offerings are ones that are personal, creative, and meaningful. Your fairy friend probably has a thousand flowers, but have they tried your pancakes? Would your familiar like a friendship bracelet in their favorite color? Hell, does your ancient ancestor want to try Starbucks? Also note that offerings can be experiences, not just gifts. Some spirits love to hear new music. Jevil loves to possess me and play games, or even just watch me play them. And Seam likes to be cuddled while he possesses a body pillow, or to be read to. The better you get to know your spirit friends, the more ways you’ll find to make them happy.

12. Recognize a spirit calling, but don’t answer them all. As you progress in spirit work, you’ll start receiving “spirit callings”. Callings are different for everyone, but they’re generally feelings of obsession over a certain spirit. You may find yourself thinking “everything would be okay if X was here” when you’re having a bad day. You may find yourself wanting to know everything about them. You might notice signs of them, such as feathers if they have wings.  If it’s a pop culture spirit, you may start obsessively tracking down fanworks of them. If you can’t get a spirit out of your mind, you’re probably being called! This means that good things could happen if you work with this spirit (though it does NOT mean the relationship will last forever!). However, this doesn’t mean you should answer ever single calling. It’s always important to know your limits. If you already have lots of spirits hanging around, adding one more won’t benefit you or them, no matter how strongly you’re called to them. Remember, there will always be another calling. 

13. Know your limits. Speaking of which, remember that you’re responsible for your spirits, and you should never take on more than you can handle. Spirit hoarding is a real thing, and it’s harmful to everyone involved. Know how many spirits you can handle at once, and know how close you can get to each of them. My astral temple is designed to let dozens of spirits come and go as they please, but of those, I’m only comfortable getting truly close to exactly two at a time. There is no shame in letting a spirit you no longer need go before bringing in a new one. There is also no shame in not being perfect. If you need some space for a few days, take it. If all you can muster today is a halfhearted “hello” to your familiar, do it. Your spirit allies will always be there waiting once you’re feeling better. If they’re true allies, they’ll understand if you’re not feeling well and need some time to yourself.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 304: The Council of OFA

Previously on BnHA: Hawks and Best Jeanist were all, “what up Todofam, we are here to apply for the positions of ‘son #4’ and ‘weird uncle’, respectively,” and then proceeded to insert themselves into the family drama without waiting for an answer. Hawks briefed Endeavor on the nation’s current status of “totally fucked”, promised to help him sort that out, and then asked him about OFA. Endeavor was all, “oh do you mean One For All, the mysterious thing that my intern Deku was apparently being targeted for?” and then we cut away, presumably before Endeavor could clarify that it never occurred to him to follow up on that, and Hawks was all “no of course not, why would it occur to anyone other than me to follow up on any of this super weird and ominously important shit.” Anyway so meanwhile Bakugou was all “LET ME SCREAM AT DEKU UNTIL HE WAKES UP” and the other kids were all “NO”, and then the chapter ended with All Might being all “I wonder what the vestige!me is currently chatting with Deku about.”

Today on BnHA: Deku drops in on the Vestiges, who are all “sup Deku, how do you like our fancy chairs.” OFA II and III are all “if you need us we’ll just be standing here silently in the corner pretending to be invisible and sparking endless discourse with our mere existence.” OFA IV is all “and now I will explain to you in a very convoluted way that you being quirkless was actually a good thing, since it means that you are probably not going to suddenly drop dead at the age of twenty. But also you’re probably going to be the last user of OFA for that very same reason.” Deku is all “that is wild. I’m just gonna stand here and stare at my hand.” Nana is all “so now that that’s settled could you please do me a small favor and kill my grandson for me”, because having just one topic to discourse about this week WASN’T ENOUGH, apparently. Thanks so much Horikoshi.

(ETA: okay so just a note before I start, this week’s RHA translation was a huge mess, so I followed up this chapter by reading a couple of other translations. the main one I’m using for reference is the one by @hanashimas​, whose weekly posts I highly recommend. anyway so you’ll see a couple of ETAs in this post in places where the initial translation was off.)

how many layers of bandages did they wrap this poor kid’s fucking hand in omg

jesus Deku. are you holding onto a bouquet of flowers under that thing?? or a tennis racket??

omg yes, finally

is he reading these names off a teleprompter lol. and if so, what has Jeanist ever done to slight you, Deku? “god bless Kacchan and Aizawa-sensei and Todoroki-kun and everyone else in the whole wide world... except for Best Jeanist. fuck that guy.” actually this joke would be funnier if half of tumblr didn’t legit feel that way lol but anyway

OH MY GOD

I NEED TO HAVE A TALK TOO. ABOUT, OH, EVERYTHING

I got immediate KHR vibes from ALL OF THIS. this is seriously such a Vongola aesthetic. “let’s use the luxuriously cushioned chairs with the seat backs that are ten feet high, and arrange all of the handsome ghost people in a big circle” like come on

that said there are also some slight LoTR vibes as well. “bring forth the ring, Deku”

I like how Six is sitting there with his feet drawn up all casual, but with his arms inexplicably sticking STRAIGHT OUT IN FRONT OF HIM and dangling over his knees like he’s doing some sort of zombie walk

apparently the Fourth wasn’t a big fan of shoes huh

interesting that All Might is the only one who’s still faint/indistinct, and and that Two and Three are fully visible

(ETA: the rest of my speculation about Two and Three has been moved into a separate post, the better to focus on the shit that’s actually happening in this chapter lol.)

and lastly, interesting that all of them are talking now, except for All Might (and I guess the Second and Third as well). to the best of my knowledge Deku hasn’t unlocked the Sixth’s quirk yet, so I guess the quirks don’t really have anything to do with it

oh and it looks like Deku’s mouth is still covered. I guess that’s convenient for the vestiges since we all know it’s hard to stop Deku once he gets going. but on the other hand it’s very inconvenient for people like me who wanted to see some interaction. alas

so First says that OFA’s power has grown a lot in the last four months (i.e. since Deku unlocked Blackwhip), and now the vestiges can communicate with each other as well as Deku

so even when Deku’s not around they can all just chill with each other. this is such a weird thing to me lol. like it’s cool, don’t get me wrong, but it’s also strange as hell to know that you’ve got eight other people hanging out in your head spying on everything you do and having conversations with each other about it. it would be like if Dark Shadow had someone to hang out with other than Tokoyami. good thing you weren’t triplets, Tokoyami

First says that it’s become easier for the vestiges to interact with Deku ever since TomurAFO barged into the OFA Domain back at Jakku. huh

(ETA: apparently this is because AFO forcibly pulled out OFA’s power when he was trying to steal the quirk, so I guess that makes sense.)

okay thank you Banjou for addressing this concern which I initially brought up as a joke, but which was apparently real enough for you to reassure Deku about

“don’t worry, even though we’re awake and hanging out inside of you at all times, we’re definitely not secretly watching and making fun of every single thing you do” hmmmmm

(ETA: “not that you could do anything about it even if we were, since you’re probably going to be the last OFA holder ever!” I don’t trust anything this asshole says lmao.)

OH SHIT??

YESSS DEKU now you can hold them accountable for all of their bullshit! because I do not doubt that there will be bullshit lol but let’s see how that goes

oh damn

well okay then. you didn’t have to stand up and walk over to him and loom all threateningly like that but okay sir

this guy has kind of a Kimimaro vibe to him. remember? that bone-growing guy from Naruto? except I’m pretty sure he had eyebrows. and wasn’t twenty feet tall. speaking of which, that explains the chairs

why are you wearing only 3/5ths of a shirt

lol what

someone’s gonna have to explain this to me. is he just redundant or something lol, or is he strangely poetical or what

(ETA: apparently HE’S MAKING A PUN omg. I immediately gained +10 love for him lol. also it flows a lot better in Japanese. this is one of the things Caleb is usually good at, so we’ll see what he does with the wordplay.)

omg the hermit theory is true!!

“I’M NOT WEIRD, IT’S SOCIETY WHICH IS WEIRD.” lol whatever you say buddy. also love how Banjou tried to give him a big hearty slap on the back but Hermit Boy was not having it lmao

IS HE TRYING TO CAPTURE HIM WITH BLACKWHIP

AND ACTUALLY, NO, SIR, AS A MATTER OF FACT, WE ARE NOT AWARE. SO SPILL!!

?!!?

okay my first response was LOL ARE YOU SERIOUS, THAT’S THE BIG SECRET!? -- and then it hit me what the significance of “died from old age... AT AGE FORTY” meant. at which point it was like “!!!!!” and then “OH, SHIT”

(ETA: there’s also an Iida joke here somewhere but I’m just too tired to make it.)

oh my god oh my god

did he somehow get a copy of the coroner’s report or something? like how does he even know that he died from “old age” as opposed to any number of other natural causes? ??

but anyway. so this is the quirk singularity coming into play then I guess. but then how come All Might is still alive and ticking?

(ETA: so this is one example of where this week’s translation is a mess lol. apparently the Fourth explains here that he didn’t know what the fuck he died from until All Might researched it. and it turns out there actually was an autopsy lol so there you go.)

so Fourth says he held OFA for eighteen years, and since he knew he would never be strong enough to defeat AFO on his own he basically just spent all his time punching rocks in the woods and training to power the quirk up

oh shit

is he implying that his body literally fell apart?? like that’s how he got the scars on his face? -- IS THAT WHAT KEEPS HAPPENING TO TOMURA, THEN. oh shit

DUDE

so you’re telling me that this quirk actively shortens the lifespan of anyone who uses it?? and my little boy here has had it now for a year already?? fuck me, I have immediately have a TON of thoughts about all this but let me save it until he’s done with his explanation

THANK YOU, DEKU

right?? how come All Might didn’t die then. even after he got injured. please don’t tell me he actually is dying still and is just being slow about it because I SWEAR TO GOD

what does this mean??

so what you’re trying to say is you all have NO FUCKING IDEA how long Deku’s gonna be able to hold this quirk before he SUDDENLY DROPS DEAD?! five generations ago this dude was able to hold it for eighteen years, and then four generations later All Might was able to hold it for thirty-odd years or so, and now Deku has it and you all have no clue which way it’s gonna go? actually this makes it sound like it really wasn’t OFA that killed the Fourth at all and you guys are just really bad at forming hypotheses. but since you’re making a big plot point out of it I guess it must be true

and don’t think I didn’t notice the part where you said you didn’t have OFA very long and then “died while fighting”, Firsto. I want to hear more about that. specifically who you passed the quirk onto before your death

and yes, if we are agreeing that OFA was the cause of the Fourth’s death, then the conclusion on this next page is the natural one to draw

so that’s a bit of a relief then, because Deku is quirkless too. so it means he won’t be able to hold OFA forever (and will probably have to find another quirkless person to pass it on to), but at least he won’t be randomly dying out of the blue next Tuesday or something

oh my god now he’s talking about OFA and AFO and user consciousnesses and all sorts of good theory stuff but it’s so much exposition. you’re really gonna make me read all this lol

wait what. why would All Might being quirkless have anything to do with the presence of his vestige in OFA Outer Space Party Land

but Deku is also quirkless and he’s clearly visible and chatting with you guys. so what gives. like how much of this is verified fact and how much of it is you guys just shrugging and making stuff up lol

SERIOUSLY, GUYS

BUT DEKU IS ALSO -- you know what, never mind sob. none of this shit makes any sense but whatever

(ETA: seriously, this all seems like an awful lot of speculation on their part. for Deku’s sake I sure hope they’re right.)

FSSKDJFLSKLKJLKJL ALL MIGHT IS FIFTY-FIVE?!

lol that’s a full ten years past my closest estimate, wow. but this pretty much confirms his age now at last! or at least confirms it within a couple of years, because we know All Might and Nana met when he was in middle school, and he presumably had the quirk by the time he took the U.A. entrance exam. so yeah. gonna go with fifty-five

so they think that because All Might was quirkless, OFA was better able to adapt to his body and became his true quirk, as opposed to being an extra quirk that stacked on top of the one he already had and overwhelmed him. ties in back to the whole “AFO used to bend people to his will by forcing quirks on them” thing, as well as the “Noumus are all mindless because of the strain of having multiple quirks”

Two and Three are really ruining the serious vibe of this scene here lol

they look like they’re doing the counting for hide and seek

and is this Deku talking now? I was about to get mad at First for implying that quirkless people are somehow freaks, as opposed to “normal” people jdslk

so in other words, don’t go giving it to your best friend all casually for shits and giggles, Deku. even if it would make a really cool climax for a movie. well shit. maybe that’s why they were so quick to nope back into Deku’s body afterward

so First says that because quirkless people are becoming rarer and rarer, the fact that All Might just happened to stumble upon Deku is “nothing short of a miracle.” which, yeah, that was definitely a stroke of luck there. being quirkless saved his life. but being quirkless is also part of why he was chosen in the first place, and we’ve always known that much

“in other words, kiddo...”

looks like there was some hurried clone stamp usage going on here lol. but props to RHA as always for putting this scan out so fast, especially given how exposition-heavy this week’s chapter has been

“anyways, that was the main topic” ARE YOU SERIOUS. there are like ten other topics imma need you all to get to here, people

(ETA: seems like this is a mistranslation; the line should actually read something more along the lines of “and now for the main topic.”)

FFFFFFFFF

“ENJOY YOUR CLIFFHANGER THIS WEEK.” dskfalkjlkjwlgkjl you really went and dumped this discourse on us yet again. fucking...

(ETA: forgot to mention, but as several people mentioned, this seems to be another mistranslation -- rather than asking Deku to kill Tomura as though it’s doing her a personal favor, Nana is asking “will you be able to do it.” in other words more of an “are you capable of doing it” type of thing. which is a very reasonable question to ask given that Deku is, well, Deku.)

anyways, and the answer is obviously going to be “no” of course. this isn’t going to end any differently than when the previous Avatars all told Aang to kill Ozai. but I guess it means we’re in for a fun conversation next week

so Nana looks pretty grim here though (nothing at all like the person who once taught All Might the importance of saving people with a smile), and I’m wondering if this means she believes that her grandson is already beyond saving. as in killing him would be a mercy, as opposed to him continuing to live with AFO bending his mind and body to his will. except if that is the case, I think she’s underestimating Tomura’s own will. and definitely underestimating Deku’s will to save

and also, just... I’m so fucking sick of AFO screwing the Shimura family over, honestly. this is exactly what he wanted. well fuck you, guy. you don’t get to have what you want. go out there and save Tomura, Deku. for his sake and for Nana’s. give them some hope. do your thing, boy. can’t wait for your big speech all about it next chapter lol

[peaceisadirtyword]

Move On VIII (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello!♥️ Two weeks later, here you go! I only have two things to say: 1. please don't hate me 2. forgive me because it's too long and it might be a bit boring bc my brain was a bit dry this week. BUT the ending is intense. I almost divided it in two different chapters but I'm ending it on chapter 10 and I already have everything planned😔 Please remember there's two chapters left and anything could happen👀 Now enjoy and thanks for reading!

Warnings: fluff, a bit of angst, Hvitty is the best, Alfred is cute, Ivar is Ivar, there's smut, mentions of alcohol, mentions of anxiety and I think that's all!

Words: 7122 (the longest chapter I've ever written sorry)

Move On Masterlist

my three favorite boys by @therealcalicali

You had thought about your wedding day, like every single person on Earth. You imagined it being outside, maybe near the sea, or in the forest, maybe the gardens of a beautiful palace. But for some reason, you never imagined the groom's face. It was always about you, the place and the music, the dress, the flowers, the cake... Until you met Ivar.

Getting married wasn't something you wished to do soon, it could wait. It was more a future plan than a wish, because in some way getting married and having a child was something that scared you. Ivar managed to make you change your mind, suddenly you weren't that scared of having kids or the commitment that implies a wedding. It would be fine as long as he was the one waiting for you at the end of the aisle and the one holding your baby. It would be fine as long as it was him there with you.

Weddings were a celebration of love. At least that was what everyone said, two people that loved each other enough to try and make it last forever. Maybe they gave too much importance to the wedding itself and forgot the love part. Or maybe you were so bitter about anything romantic or related to love that you stopped thinking about them as a love gesture and started seeing it as a contract.

You hadn't heard about Ivar again. Not since that day that ended so badly. Hvitserk said he was still with Freydis, and soon he just stopped talking about him at all. Maybe hoping you'd get over him faster if he didn't mention him. But it wasn't really working.

At least you stopped crying. Now it was more like a sad grimace whenever you thought about it, and sometimes, Hvitserk realized you'd stop talking and looked away, biting your lip and probably thinking about him. Especially when there was something that reminded you of him.

But the problem of being so close to someone, shaping your entire life around him and sharing everything together was that there wasn't really anything that didn't remind you of him.

Alfred, Thora and Hvitserk had organized to be around you all the time. Distracting you, forcing you to go out and Hvitserk even let you do his makeup once. Sometimes it was annoying, but you couldn't be mad at them, they were just trying to make you feel better.

You tried to convince Thora and Hvitserk to go to the wedding together, but she didn't want to go to said wedding. As you promised Alfred you'd go with him, he'd be the one picking you up, and you'd see Hvitserk in there.

Of course, Ubbe and Torvi chose a beautiful forest near their own home to celebrate the wedding. A pagan wedding. You had been to a few of those with Ivar, as he and his family still worshipped the Norse gods. But this time you felt like an intruder, as you weren't even part of the family anymore, and your date was a Christian man.

The dress Hvitserk chose didn't look that good on you at home as it had looked on the changing rooms, as always, but you forced yourself to wear it with confidence. You even practiced walking with the new heels you had bought, and at that point you just wished you wouldn't fall in front of everyone.

You chose a very natural makeup, and a simple hairstyle that was within your humble means. You didn't want to draw attention and wished that the guests wouldn't recognize you. The last thing you needed was people talking about you and Ivar.

Traditions were traditions, nonetheless, and you wore red underwear to try and feel a bit sexier. Even if you had tried to get rid of the red dresses and underwear you wore to catch Ivar's attention, that red set in particular was too precious for you. It was the first one he bought you, and you still remembered the first night you wore it.

And, why am I thinking about Ivar now?

You sighed and looked at your own reflect on the mirror. You were ready, just needed to put those deadly traps on your feet and grab your purse. Alfred had called and he was on his way.

Oh yeah, because you're seeing him today. For the first time in months, you were going to see him again and with Freydis on his arm. You didn't even know how you'd react, but it had given you nightmares for days.

The doorbell rang, and you finished putting on the heels before walking to the door and opening it. Alfred looked like a prince, with his black suit and a flower on his hand. A sunflower. It made you smile more than it was socially acceptable.

"Hi" you waved at him "You look good" you winked at him, Alfred chuckled and blushed softly.

"Hello" he nodded politely "You look..." he stopped to look at you in the eye and sighed "Absolutely beautiful"

"Oh, um..." you looked down, flustered "Thank you, I... Didn't expect a compliment now"

Alfred smiled and took your hand, making you twirl and giggle.

"This is for you" he gave you the sunflower. You bit your lip and took it.

"You're always giving me flowers"

"Because you deserve them" he shrugged "Are you ready?"

You nodded. Taking the purse you left next to the door and checking you had everything.

"Okay" you sighed "Let's go"

__________________________________

As soon as you got out of the car someone covered your eyes. You laughed and grabbed his arms to avoid losing your balance.

"Hvitserk" you put his hands away and turned to look at him "Look at you! You look nice"

He did look nice. His dirty blonde hair was braided and the suit looked good on him, it made his green eyes stand out.

"You look very nice too" he winked at you, his flirtatious smirk made you roll your eyes "Nice dress, who chose it?"

"Someone with a very good taste, obviously" you laughed "Are we late?"

Hvitserk turned to greet Alfred. The both of them weren't exactly friends, but thanks to you they were at least civil with each other and you were more than happy with that.

"You're just on time" he sighed "The guests are starting to get in" he pointed at the small path adorned with flowers and wooden decorations that entered the forest "Ubbe is already there, he's surprisingly relaxed, considering the fact he's marrying Torvi" Hvitserk muttered the last part and you raised an eyebrow.

"I would like to say hello to Ubbe before the ceremony starts" said Alfred with a small smile. He was very close to Ubbe, and worked with him frequently. You could say Ubbe was his favorite Lothbrok, and you couldn't blame him.

Hvitserk nodded and stepped back.

"I have to look for my brother, he told me he was close" he explained "But go, I'll catch you later"

My brother, Hvitserk now only referred to Ivar as 'his brother', noticing how you sometimes flinched when you heard his name, even if it was just because the thought of him startled you.

You grabbed Alfred's arm and hoped you wouldn't fall with the heels, he seemed to think the same, because he held you tightly.

"Doesn't it bother you that this is a pagan wedding?" You asked, genuinely curious when you caught a glance of the cross that hang from his neck. It belonged to his biological father, who passed away before he was born.

Alfred seemed amused at the question.

"I'm not bothered by people believing in other Gods, Y/N" he chuckled "In fact, I find paganism very interesting, and Ubbe told me a lot about his Gods and Goddesses, it's interesting, and I don't think my own God would be mad at me for respecting other beliefs"

You nodded slowly. Alfred was very religious, but not on an obsessive way. It was one of the things you liked about him, how relaxed but loyal he was about his religion.

Ivar was also very religious, but focused on a very different religion. It was something they had in common even if they wouldn't ever recognize it, but you could see it in both of them.

"Besides, I'll confess that Norse weddings are often much more fun than the Christian weddings" he added with a smile.

"Oh, are you getting drunk tonight?" you teased with a small smile. Alfred shook his head but laughed.

"Maybe" he raised an eyebrow "But only if you drink with me"

"Obviously" you rolled your eyes "On the last wedding I went to, Hvitserk, Ivar and I stole a bottle of tequila and got drunk on the car while listening to my favorite playlist"

"Wow" he laughed again "Okay, I'll try to keep up with you then"

There was a lot of people at the clearing already. You remembered Ubbe's first wedding, the first one you attended to with Ivar. He looked more relaxed now, and happier.

"Alfred" he greeted your companion with a big smile and a bone-crushing hug. Alfred smiled widely and hugged him back "You look good, man, thanks for coming"

"Of course, Ubbe" when they separated, he touched his shoulder firmly "I'm happy for you"

"I was a bit confused when your family arrived without you" Ubbe pointed to a group of people. When you turned to look at them, they turned around to pretend they weren't looking at you, making you raise an eyebrow and Alfred frown and blush "But I see you have better company" he laughed "Hello, Y/N"

When he leant in to hug you, you sighed. Ubbe gave the best hugs ever.

"Hi" you smiled "Thank you for inviting me"

"Are you joking?" he shook his head "You're like my sister, of course we'd invite you, you look pretty" he nodded "My mother is going to be thrilled to see you" he pointed at Aslaug, who stood all alone away from the crowd "She scolded all of us during the last family dinner, saying how you were too good for this family and we didn't appreciate you enough"

You smiled softly, Aslaug always treated you like a daughter.

"I'm gonna go say hello to her" you looked back at them. Alfred nodded and watched you leave until Ubbe hit his head softly with a smirk.

Aslaug never had a good relationship with the rest of the family. Ivar told you no one truly accepted her when Ragnar divorced Lagertha, and she spent most of the time taking care of Ivar. When Ragnar left, she just ignored them.

Ubbe was right, her eyes lightened up and she gave you a big smile when you approached.

"Y/N! Oh, Gods, you look so beautiful" she hugged you tightly "How have you been? I asked Hvitserk about you but he wasn't very specific"

"Hi" you smiled back at her "I'm fine, I think, you look beautiful too"

She seemed to like that comment. She did look very pretty, with her wavy, blonde hair braided and wearing a beautiful blue dress.

"I'm so glad to see you" she sighed "I missed you, you have to come with Hvitserk some day"

You wondered if she knew about the fact that you had slept with Hvitserk. But just when you were about to reply, she looked at someone just behind you, and you tensed up. There was only one person that could make Aslaug smile like that, and you weren't too excited to see him.

When you turned around, you forgot how to breath for a moment. Ivar wore a dark grey suit, that made his deep blue eyes shine like sapphires. He leant into the crutch and walked slowly, looking around with his eyebrow raised, as if he truly believed no one was worthy of his presence. After months without seeing him, thinking you were actually making progress in moving on, you realized you were still too into him. He was just too much.

When you were able to tear your eyes off of him, you realized Freydis was with him, dressed in red and looking so effortlessly beautiful that you felt like crying again.

Hvitserk reached you first, greeting his mother with a kiss on her cheek and putting his arm around your shoulders.

"Come on, let's go, this is about to begin" he whispered. When you left, you could feel Ivar's eyes on you, nearly burning. You didn't dare to look at him.

_______________________________________

Torvi was so beautiful on her white dress and the flower crown on top of the small braids on her hair that you couldn't help but tear up a bit. Ubbe looked at her with such an intensity, with eyes so full of love that you envied both of them for a moment. They couldn't stop looking at each other, they were so lost in themselves that barely listened to the völva that married them. To be fair, you barely listened either. It made you wish you had someone to look at like that, someone that looked at you like that. A few months earlier, you thought you had it.

Maybe you still could have it, with Alfred. He was the sweetest person you had ever met, and he treated you like a queen, always giving you space and making sure you were okay. You loved him so much you thought you'd explode if he had another sweet gesture with you, but it wasn't romantic love. You could try and maybe in some more months you could fall in love with him, but you didn't want to break his heart, he didn't deserve it.

And Hvitserk? He was your best friend, but even if you could feel attracted to him, you knew it wouldn't work. And both Alfred and Hvitserk deserved true love. But it wasn't you.

Ivar sat on the front rows, with his brothers and his parents. Freydis was sitting next to him, but they didn't touch each other. In fact, they barely talked. Then the völva talked about twin flames, about true love that always found its way through every single obstacle, and when you looked at him, he was looking right back at you.

______________________________________

"You're back to drinking, huh?" Hvitserk laughed while sitting next to you. You groaned and bit your lip to hold back a laugh.

"I needed it" you pouted, looking at the drink you just ordered "Alfred introduced me to his family, but I don't think they like me very much"

Hvitserk stole your drink and took a sip, making you glare at him.

"His family is very protective of him" he shrugged "And you're probably not very popular considering you're Ivar's ex"

You turned your head to look at them, standing at the other side of the room. Judith, Alfred's mother, at least had been nice, but Aethelwulf, his (adoptive) father, looked at you suspiciously. You already knew Aethelred, his brother, but even if he greeted you politely, he didn't seem too happy with you either.

You also spent some time with the newlyweds, Björn and his wife and Lagertha, but you also felt out of place. In fact, you didn't feel comfortable until you stepped away from the crowd and reached the bar.

"There's food there, Hvitserk" you snatched your drink from his hand "Leave my drink alone"

He chuckled.

"I figured you needed some company, you look a bit sad here all alone" he shrugged again "Besides, I don't really feel comfortable in there" he frowned. The guests were finishing their food and getting up to dance and talk around the room. The venue in which the feast took place belonged to a friend of Ubbe's, so they had gotten the biggest salon.

Aslaug chatted with Floki and Helga, Ragnar tried to flirt with an amused Lagertha and Sigurd and Ivar had argued at least three times during the feast, with Björn interfering to avoid a possible murder. So the atmosphere was a bit tense and awkward.

"Remind me to never celebrate a wedding with my family" Hvitserk sighed. You giggled and shook your head "I mean it, is there anything worse than a wedding with a dysfunctional family?"

"A wedding with a functional family" you raised an eyebrow "That would be boring"

Fortunately, no one paid too much attention to you. Helga greeted you excitedly, and Floki hugged you and told you Freki missed you. You teared up remembering the sweet husky they had in Iceland. Sigurd was also nicer to you now than when you were with Ivar. Blaeja smiled to you shyly. Everything was awkward and felt weird, like you shouldn't be there.

The only one you hadn't talked to was Ragnar and, of course, Ivar. After he was finished eating, he sat down with Freydis. She tried to say hello to you with a sweet smile but Alfred had interrupted her and took you away. You nearly kissed him in gratitude.

"My father asked about you" Hvitserk added when he saw you staring at Ragnar, who was now talking to Harald Finehair.

"Really?" you frowned "I didn't think he'd remember me"

Even if you had been with Ivar for years, you had only met his father a few times, during important events or festivities. Usually, he was traveling the world, working and avoiding his responsibilities as a husband and a father.

"Of course he remembers you, he always asked about you... Don't tell anyone, but you were his favorite daughter-in-law, remember that time when you managed to make Ivar apologize to Sigurd after he insulted him during Jul? He was impressed"

"And he told you that" you rolled your eyes, thinking Hvitserk was probably making it up to make you feel better.

"Yes, he did, he also called Ivar a fucking idiot when he heard he left you, it was the first time I agreed with my father in a long time"

That made you smile.

"Your family is too nice with me" you sighed "I'm gonna miss them"

That startled Hvitserk.

"What? Why? Where are you going?" he glared at you "You're not leaving"

"I don't know" you took another sip of your drink "I talked to Alfred about it, he had friends in England that could help me get a job there and..."

"England?" Hvitserk scowled "You're moving to England?"

"I'm not" his indignation amused you "Not for now, I think, it's just an idea"

"You can't leave me here" he pouted "Who is going to come with me to the pub then?"

"I'm sure you'd find someone to get drunk with pretty soon"

He shook his head, and the two of you stayed in silence for a couple of minutes.

"It's impossible to replace you, Y/N" he whispered "You're too special for that"

"Aw" you felt a lump in your throat and the urge to hug him "That's sweet, Hvitty"

"I mean it" he winked at you "You're great, I just wish you saw it too"

"Keep saying these things to me and I'll give you my drink"

He smiled, but shook his head and stood up.

"I'm going to talk to Ubbe" he announced, you saw he was now talking to Floki and Aslaug, away from Björn and Lagertha "I have something to give to him"

You nodded and watched him leave with a small smile. Once again, you should have fallen in love with him.

_______________________________

After three drinks, you stopped feeling intimidated by the crowd, at least a bit, and felt brave enough to get closer to it. Your eyes fixed on Ivar and Freydis, still sitting down and who seemed to be having a deep conversation. It didn't look good, but before you could even start wondering what they were talking about, someone put their arm around you, startling you.

"Hello, Y/N" you turned around to see Ragnar, already a bit drunk and with a big smile on his lips. His eyes, so similar to Ivar's, seemed to look directly into your soul "Long time no see"

"Hi" you smiled at him "How are you?"

He frowned, then grimaced and then shook his head.

"I'm... Alive" he shrugged "So, you and little Alfred?"

Ragnar Lothbrok wasn't one to beat around the bush.

"We're friends" you chuckled "He's been an amazing friend to me these past months"

"Yeah, after my... Brilliant son fucked it up" he clenched his jaw, taking a sip of his beer "Alfred is a really good kid, son of a great man"

"He's the best" you nodded "Did you know his father?"

For the first time, the smile on Ragnar's face faltered.

"Yes, I did" he cleared his throat "He was a very good friend of mine"

"He'd be proud of his son, then" you smiled, looking at Alfred who was currently talking to his brother.

"He would" Ragnar nodded "Unfortunately, I can't say the same for my own sons" he muttered, and you raised an eyebrow.

"Why?" you chuckled.

"I must admit it's my fault" he sighed "They inherited it from me, the capacity of ruining everything when they have a great woman by their side" you'd swear his eyes fixed on Lagertha and then on Aslaug for a moment "Ivar is the smartest boy I've ever seen, but he can also be stupid sometimes, you know it, because you understand him better than anyone, better than himself, even than his own mother" you bit your lip, looking away "And I know he regrets it"

"Look, I really love Ivar" you sighed "I will always love him because he was a very important part of my life for years, but he's happy with Freydis now, and I'm glad he's happy"

Ragnar chuckled, shaking his head.

"I'd argue with you on that, but Alfred is coming and I think you deserve a good time with him now rather than talking about my son" he winked "See you around, Y/N"

Before you could reply, he left, walking towards the bar as he finished his drink.

"Hello" Alfred stopped next to you, also looking at Ragnar with an eyebrow raised "Everything okay?"

You turned your head and smiled softly at him.

"Yes, I think" you giggled "It's just Ragnar being weird"

He hummed, like he understood exactly what you meant.

"I just wanted to ask you if you..." he looked around with a frown, and blushed furiously "Maybe, want to dance?"

You were surprised, thinking no one really danced at these things, but a quick look around made you realized that people were definitely dancing, or well, at least they were trying.

Ubbe and Torvi moved slowly together, with their foreheads pressed together and a small smile on their lips. Around them, some couples danced at the rhythm of a slow song.

"Oh, um..." you licked your lips, nervously "Sure, I'd love to"

Alfred looked relieved, and took your hand softly, leading you to the dance floor. Or well, the part of the salon on which people danced.

He knew how to dance, of course he did. You nearly rolled your eyes when he whispered that you should put your hand on his shoulder and started leading your movements. He was too soft, too polite and too perfect. You looked at his face intensely as he danced and you moved clumsily with him. He didn't make eye contact, too nervous and always looking down.

"Alfred" you pouted "You're one of the most amazing men I've ever met" you stopped moving to hug him "Oh my god, I wish I could..."

He hugged you back, nodding against your neck.

"I wish that too" he muttered "But I can't force you"

"I tried, I really did, and I love you so much, but..."

"Hey" he stopped hugging you, and cupped your face softly "Look at me, Y/N, you don't have to explain yourself, you feel what you feel and it's fine, I'll get over it" he giggled as you teared up, feeling the worst person in the world "We're friends, and that will never change"

You nodded.

"Thank you" you took a deep breath "For everything"

"Of course" he smiled "I think it's time you start being a bit more selfish and put yourself first, stop worrying about what the others are feeling, focus on yourself"

You hugged him again and kissed his cheek.

"I'm gonna go get some air" you took a deep breath "I'll be back, okay?"

He nodded, letting you go. You rushed to the door and left the building, only breathing again when you were out in the garden. It was a pretty entrance, with cobblestones, a lovely fountain and some flowers. At least it was peaceful and quiet. Or you thought it was, because you heard a metal noise and a groan, which made you jump and gasp before you looked to the side.

It was already dark, and the only source of light were the lovely streetlights adorned with ivy. It came from one of the benches at the side of the entrance, and you nearly cried when you saw the source of the noise.

"Ivar?" you sighed, drying your tears with your fingers "What are you doing here?"

He raised his head and glared at you with his jaw clenched, he had been focused on his braces and didn't even hear you approaching. When he didn't reply, you frowned and walked towards him, walking slowly to avoid falling down with the damned heels.

"Where's Freydis?" you asked softly, understanding something was wrong.

"She left" his voice sounded dry and empty, almost as if he had been crying.

"Why?"

"Because I told her to leave" he pouted. Ivar had the tendency to pout, and he hated when you said he looked cute doing it, probably thinking he looked intimidating.

You sat down on the bench, and decided not to ask because he didn't seem too inclined to talk about it.

"What's wrong with the braces?" you asked slowly.

"I don't know" he groaned, grabbing his right leg "I think I moved it and..." his lip started trembling when he started fiddling with it again.

"Stop" you tried to grab his hand, but he ignored you "Ivar, stop, you're going to hurt yourself"

"Why do you care?" he raised his voice, making you scoff "Why don't you go back there with Alfred?"

"Don't yell" you glared at him "After everything you've done, you don't get to yell at me"

He took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes with his hands and shaking his head.

"I want to go home" he sighed "I can't go back there"

"Hey, what happened?" you were starting to get worried, because that wasn't like Ivar "Should I call your brothers? Your mother?"

"No" he shrugged "They will just rant about how stupid I am for letting you go"

You looked away again.

"You did hurt me" you muttered "A lot"

Ivar didn't look at you either.

"That's the worst part" he scoffed "That they're right"

This time you did look at him, surprised and with your lips parted. For a moment, you felt the need to hug and kiss him, but you couldn't.

"If you know they're right why did you do it? And I don't mean breaking up with me, I mean being so cruel, treating me like I was nothing to you"

"I don't know, Y/N" he sighed tiredly "I was angry, you moved on"

"I didn't move on!" you scoffed "Dear God, Ivar, I couldn't move on, I spent the worst months of my life trying to but I couldn't, you're such an asshole" you groaned "You broke up with me, acted like I was nothing but a burden to you, you made me feel like I wasn't good enough, and then had the audacity of acting like I was the one that fucked everything up!"

Ivar's eyes were full of tears when he raised his head again.

"I don't feel like talking about that now"

You were about to keep ranting when you looked at his eyes for the first time, and gasped when you saw how blue they were.

"Did you take your medicines today?" you frowned when he shook his head "Why? Oh God" you groaned "Should we go to the hospital?"

He shook his head again.

"I just want to go home"

"Are you in too much pain, Ivar? Wait, I'll call a cab" you unlocked your phone and stood up.

_________________________________

You had never seen Ivar like that. So quiet and sad, looking at his own feet and not even reacting when you sat down next to him again.

"The cab will be here in ten minutes" you announced softly, regretting being to harsh on him a few minutes earlier "Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital? Maybe we should, it might get worse, what if something happens?" you bit your lip nervously "I should go and tell your family"

"No" he grabbed your arm when you were about to stand up again "Don't tell them, it'll be fine as soon as I get home, take the pills and rest a bit"

"Okay" you sighed "But at least let me get Hvitserk so he can go with you"

Ivar's face changed again, this time he looked like a lost puppy, his pouty lips parted and his eyes fixed on yours, nearly begging.

"Aren't you coming with me?" he whispered, and you sighed.

"I shouldn't" you muttered in reply "I don't think..."

"Please" he insisted, and you noticed the two of you were too close "We need to talk"

He was so soft, so vulnerable in that moment that you nodded slowly, and let yourself lean into him slowly just before you heard someone calling your name.

Hvitserk left the building at the same time you got away from Ivar quickly turning your head to look at him. Ivar looked irritated by the interruption, but didn't say anything.

"Hey" he looked surprised to see the both of you there "Y/N, Alfred said you'd be out here" he frowned "Ivar, I was looking for you... Is everything okay?"

"Hi" you smiled softly "Ivar is not feeling good, he's in pain" you explained, standing up and approaching him "I called a cab"

Hvitserk's big brother side showed up when he walked over to Ivar, frowning.

"You didn't take the medicines?"

"I fought with Freydis, I forgot" he shrugged.

"Where is she?" Hvitserk looked around, a bit confused.

Ivar didn't reply, but they seemed to understand each other perfectly.

You gave them a few minutes together, until you approached them again. Hvitserk stood up with a sigh and shook his head.

"You can leave" he said softly, caressing your arm "I will stay with him"

You heard the cab arriving and looked at Ivar.

"I..." you took Hvitserk's hands "Maybe I should stay with him"

He took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head.

"Y/N..."

"It's okay" you chuckled "It's fine, Hvitserk, I'm fine"

"Are you sure?" he whispered "He is..."

"I know, and it will be okay, we... Need to talk, I think"

If Hvitserk thought you were stupid, he didn't say it.

"If you need anything, call me, okay?"

You nodded as he kissed your temple softly. You could feel Ivar's eyes on you, burning, when the cab stopped next to you and Hvitserk turned to help him.

____________________________________

It felt too familiar to enter their flat, to help Ivar sit on the couch before taking the medicines to him with a glass of water. You were so used to the process that for a moment you forgot everything had changed since the last time you did it.

He did look more relaxed after a few minutes, when you sat on the couch and took your heels off with a tired sigh. You could feel Ivar's eyes on you, but tried to ignore him, too exhausted to start arguing with him again. You felt the pressure on your chest again, as you always did when someone mentioned him or when you saw him, but this time it was a bit less intense, maybe because Freydis wasn't around.

"I'm going to bed" he announced after a few minutes, you supposed that the strong painkillers had already kicked it at least a bit "Today was shit"

You wanted to scream at him, every day had been shit for the last few months because of him. But you were too exhausted of yelling, arguing and crying because of him, you wanted a truce, even if it was just for a few hours.

Ivar got up, grunting and taking deep breaths as he moved slowly towards his bedroom. At first, you weren't even thinking about helping him, you had already done too much for him that night, much more than he actually deserved. But when you looked at him and saw him struggling, you couldn't help it and got up to help him. Usually, Ivar would frown and say he didn't need help, but this time he didn't say a word until you reached his bedroom.

You bit your lip, looking around the room and remembering the last time you were in there. Ivar let himself fall on the bed and sighed in relief when he got to take the braces off. You sat on the bed and looked at him sternly.

"Hvitserk said you've been skipping therapy sessions" you narrowed your eyes at him "And didn't go to doctor's appointments, this is what you get for being an idiot"

Ivar raised an eyebrow, and the ghost of a smile danced on his lips as he turned his head to you.

"You and Hvitserk talked a lot about me, didn't you?" he scoffed "Did he also mention me when you were fucking?"

You rolled your eyes, but you weren't going to play his game anymore, not that night.

"Anyway, I'm leaving" you stood up "Go to sleep and call the doctor tomorrow"

Ivar narrowed his eyes at you.

"I thought we needed to talk" he scowled "But now you want to run back to Alfred"

"Look" you sighed, crossing your arms "You're tired and on a bad mood, I'm tired and a bit drunk, talking it's probably not a good idea, so try and get some rest and we'll talk some other day"

"I saw you dancing" he ignored you completely, making you sigh again "With him"

"Yes, and what about it? You have no right to be bothered by that, because you were with your girlfriend"

"She's no longer my girlfriend" he clenched his jaw and his voice broke a bit "It's over"

Your expression softened. Even if you'd love to slap him in that moment, your heart broke a bit knowing he was hurt.

"What happened?" you asked softly "The last time you told me you loved each other and all of that"

Ivar shrugged, looking away and taking a deep breath.

"I don't know, I suppose she didn't love me that much"

You looked at him with a pout. You could feel that dull pain on your heart when you thought about him, you missed him with your entire life, the thought of your relationship hurt and you knew it will keep hurting forever. Ivar probably didn't care about you, or maybe he saw you more like a friend, because it was obvious Freydis had marked him much more than you in just a few months, you had seen him looking at her. So probably she was his Ivar, that thing that would be painful his entire life.

A part of you wanted to be happy. They broke up, he was mistaken and it didn't work out. But you couldn't do it when you looked into his eyes and saw pain. You couldn't see him in pain.

"I'm sorry" you said softly.

"Are you?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Yes" you rolled your eyes "I don't want to see you sad"

"Wouldn't you feel better yelling and insulting me?"

"Maybe" you shrugged "But I don't have the strength to do it"

Ivar nodded. He didn't have the energy to fight either. You laid down next to him, careful not to wrinkle the dress. Ivar stared at you intensely, and felt the tug on his chest again. He missed you more than he actually realized. It had been during the wedding, when he saw you looking stunning, smiling and greeting people... With Alfred next to you. He knew you'd be worried about him because he hadn't taken the medicines, that you'd make him sit down and would make everyone approach him so he wouldn't have to walk, that you'd take care of him, and if he was feeling better, would make him try to dance with you after the feast. Now you were dancing with Alfred, giggling and hugging his brother, and barely looked at him. And Freydis noticed.

When you looked at him again, he was much closer than you remembered, and it started you as you tried to move, flustered and suddenly very nervous.

"Y/N" he muttered, his hand grabbed your wrist softly and you widened your eyes "Stay, please"

You got lost into his eyes again. They had something magnetic, that attracted and locked you in.

His hand cupped your head to pull you closer, and the pressure on your chest turned into a warm feeling when his lips pressed against yours. It was like coming back after a long trip, when you realized just how much you had missed home, and everything was familiar and in its place. You closed your eyes and kissed him back slowly, too into him to even realize what was happening. Ivar broke the kiss and pecked your lips again a couple of times before deepening the kiss. His hand traveled down your back, making you tremble, until it reached your waist. You couldn't remember when was the last time Ivar kissed you like that, not even when the two of you were still together. He caressed your body over the soft fabric of the dress, and you vaguely thought about the wrinkles but realized you didn't even care.

"Ivar" you muttered against his lips "What are you doing?"

He didn't answer, but kissed you again as his fingers fumbled with the zip of your dress.

"You looked so beautiful today" he sighed "I couldn't stand to even think about someone else taking this dress off"

You were going to reply, but his lips on your neck turned what was going to be a dignified reply into a moan. Ivar had that thing, that charm that was too much for you to handle. He knew your weaknesses, your soft spots and what to do to make you melt in his arms. He knew you couldn't resist him, not even if you wanted to.

It was like going back in time, all the thoughts about the breakup, Freydis, Alfred and Hvitserk left your mind as he took the dress off, throwing it to the other side of the room and biting his lip with a smirk when he recognized the underwear. You tugged on his clothes, and the two of you broke the kiss so he could take the shirt and the tie. You sighed when you saw his tattoos again. You has missed him so much, and how his warm skin felt under your fingers, how his body tensed under your touch.

"Can I?" he asked biting your lower lip, his fingers grazed the side of your panties and you closed your eyes in anticipation before nodding.

"Yes" you moaned, moving to straddle him as you took your bra off. Ivar groaned and pushed his hips against you. Finally, his fingers found your sex, and he pressed onto your clit, and when he started rubbing it in circles you started trembling again.

You tried to touch his member, but you could barely move, until he pushed your panties aside and two of his fingers teased your entrance before entering you. The both of you moaned at the same time, and you moved your hips against his hand trying to follow his pace.

"Gods, you look so beautiful" he groaned, his free hand caressed your body and his lips captured one of your nipples. It was too much, and when he pressed his palm against your clit you gasped and your walls clenched around his fingers. But then he stopped, and your moans of pleasure turned into a bothered whine. You opened your eyes to glare at him and he chuckled, shaking his head.

"You're not going to cum until I'm inside of you" he whispered against your neck. You quickly fumbled with his pants, and when you finally freed his hard member Ivar groaned again. You would have loved to return the favor and leave him on the edge, but you couldn't wait, you needed him. You had waited enough.

"Put it in for me, kitten"

You nearly came hearing his voice on your ear, whispering the pet name he used to call you. Your hand clenched around his cock and he rolled his eyes and moaned deeply, letting you enjoy pretending you had the power for a few seconds. Until you pressed his member against your entrance and he grabbed your hips and thrusted into you.

Your mouth widened on a silent moan. It was intense, and Ivar let you adjust to the size before starting moving, but once he started, he couldn't stop. He sat down to kiss you again, and you grabbed his shoulders and his arms when your legs were too weak to support you anymore.

"Ivar" you moaned against his neck "God, Ivar"

"I missed you so much" he muttered, and it sounded like he truly meant it.

You didn't really have time to think whether he meant it or not because the warm tingle on your lower belly was becoming too much. Your walls started clenching around him and his thrust became sloppy. He breathed heavily against your skin.

"I'm not going to last" he whispered again "You're too much"

You had missed this Ivar so much.

You came around him, moaning his name and digging your nails into his back, your body shaking around him and your face hidden into his neck. Ivar came right after you, and he quickly turned his head to fix his ocean eyes into yours, with his pouty and swollen lips parted just before kissing you again, making you sigh and smile, happy for the first time in months.

____________________________________

Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @therealcalicali @blushingskywalker @awkwardfangirl02 @gruffle1 @justacripple @love-dria @heartbeats-wildly @letsrunawaytotomorrow @inforapound @sallydelys @hellogabysblog @winchesterwife27 @hecohansen31 @youbloodymadgenius @xinyourdreamsx @funmadnessandbadassvikings @eteramfools @tgrrose @lifeisabitchandsoareyou @lovessce @tootie-fruity @didiintheblog @alexhandersenx @belovedcherry @fantasydevil2002 @xceafh @astrape-the-weatherwitch @destynelseclipsa @poisonous00 @littlebear423 @justbloodlydreaming @xbellaxcarolinax @soleil-dor @geekydane-post @katarokkar11 @crackhead1-800 @momowhoo @pedrolorian @flokisdaughter @crazybunnyladysworld @anotherfan07 @heavenly1927 @jungkxxkk @satanhalsey @nanahachikyuu @cocovikings23​ @ecarroll1978 @darlingjae

[enhypenandpaper]

rewriting fate (to get the ending we deserve) | yang jungwon

pairing: Yang Jungwon x gn!reader

genre: soulmate!au, angst (with a happy ending), some fluff

warnings: blood, self-inflicted wounds (in an unconventional sense), mentions of scars, self-doubt

word count: 2.3k

summary: in a world where the universe designates two people as soulmates with matching tattoos, you were raised to trust and respect the universe’s will to no end. however, when the boy you love turns out not to be the other half of your fated pair, you begin to question how much the universe can really be trusted. are you and Jungwon actually making a mistake? Or has the universe?

-

You were laying on your back next to your boyfriend, the blanket he always kept in his car for moments like this protecting your clothes from the wet grass. With the stars shining above you and the boy you loved beside you, you felt like you could conquer the world.

You turned your head so you could look at Jungwon; his big, sparkling eyes, his soft hair resting on his forehead. Your eyes travel down his long neck and pause at the collarbones peeking out from his t-shirt. You watch as his chest rises and falls, it takes a moment for you to realize that yours is moving at the same pace. Your breathing was linked.

Jungwon, having felt your stare, moved his head to confront you. He raised his eyebrows and started to smirk, obviously about to make a joke about how whipped you were for him until you interrupted.

“You’re so beautiful,” you tell him.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, watching Jungwon try and fail to hide the way your words affected him, pressing his lips together to hide his smile and turning to face the night sky again so you can’t see how pink his cheeks are.

Your boyfriend unlaces your hands and, before you can whine, configures the two of you so that you can rest on his chest with his now free arm around you.

You snuggle closer into him, feeling his heartbeat pulse through your body.

“My parents had a talk with me,” you blurt out, unable to keep it a secret like you originally planned.

“…About?” Jungwon asks tentatively. 

“They think we’re too old to be dating someone who isn’t our soulmate.”

God, you hated that word. 

In this world, everyone was born with a mark, sort of like a tattoo, somewhere on their body. The placement changed with each generation and growing up, you and your peers walked around with dark blue drawings right above your hearts, courtesy of the universe. There were only two of each mark per generation, a matching pair indicating that those two people were soulmates.

Soulmate, perfect match, life-long confidante, a person who complemented you in every way and was worth any sacrifice, a person fated for you and you, them. 

If you didn’t think it was total bullshit, you would’ve found it romantic.

You weren’t usually one to question the universe or think up complicated conspiracies to refute how the world worked, but this was something you wouldn’t budge on.

Because how could the universe always be right when you and Jungwon didn’t have the same mark?

Yang Jungwon, the boy with the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen and a smile to match. The person who could make you laugh at the most inappropriate of times, smile at the darkest, relax at the most stressful. The boy whose side you would never leave, the boy you would let the world burn for, the boy for whom you would do anything because anything that brought him happiness brought it to you by default. 

Your best friend-turned-boyfriend, Jungwon has been by your side through it all. But now that you two were becoming adults, you were expected to leave your little “crushes” behind and start looking for your respective soulmates. People in your world still dated, even if they knew their significant other wasn’t their soulmate, but it was mostly seen as a way to gain experience for later. It was a given that if the person you were dating found their soulmate (or wanted to start looking), you would let them go with no questions asked.

That was sort of the plan when you and Jungwon started liking each other back in your last year of middle school, giggling and looking away whenever you held hands or made eye contact for long enough, but the young relationship that everyone cooed at easily developed into a strong bond between you and the boy lying next to you, an unbreakable bond that nobody could seem to understand.

So, to everyone else, you and Jungwon were just wasting time.

“Do you agree with them?”

“What?”

“Do you agree with what they said?” Jungwon repeated quietly. “Do you think we’re wasting time?”

“No,” you answered immediately, feeling your boyfriend exhale. “Do you?”

“Y/N, if I ever thought that this wasn’t worth it, I would’ve ended it right away. I would never hold you back like that.”

He always thought in terms of you, not him.

“But what if I’m holding you back? I want you to be happy, the happiest you can be, and if that means you have to be with someone else-”

“It doesn’t,” he assured you. 

Your hand that was resting on his stomach fiddled with the fabric of his shirt.

“I told them that I had already found my soulmate, that I haven’t needed to look for anything since you moved in down the street.” You smile, thinking of how chubby Jungwon’s cheeks were when you first met as children.

He huffed out a laugh, raising his head to kiss the top of yours.

“You make me feel unstoppable,” Jungwon told you, “like the two of us could take on the universe when we’re together.”

“We kind of already are,” you joke, referring to how you’ve been ignoring the universe’s will for years now, “even the universe has failed at keeping us apart.”

You hesitated, unable to force something to the back of your mind.

“What about them, Jungwon? Are we horrible people for leaving them alone?”

He knew who you were talking about.

“I hope that they both have someone in their life who chooses them,” he told you, “instead of letting some glorified drawings control their happiness. I mean, if they really are supposed to be exactly what we need, maybe they aren’t looking for us either. Maybe they’ve found what we have.”

You sat up suddenly, Jungwon’s arm falling off your shoulders and flopping down beside his own body.

“What happens when you’re running errands one day or you’re out with your family and you see someone with the same mark as you?” You ask softly, staring ahead at the ground as your fingers tangled themselves in the grass, tugging and breaking the weak strands. “What if you meet them one day? What if someone’s shirt slips and it’s like you’re standing in front of a mirror or someone taps you on the shoulder because they could’ve sworn that-”

“Y/N,” Jungwon stops you, pleading. 

You hear him sit up to join you.

You looked at him and physically felt all the anxiety leave your body in waves once your eyes met his. His sparkling eyes held so much love that it would be painful for anyone who didn’t share his feelings to look directly at them. 

“There is nothing that anyone could say or do to ever make me rethink my decision, make me rethink you. We’ve never needed something to tell us how to feel, this relationship is entirely our own. Nothing can take away what we feel for each other… what we’ve built together.”

That was when you smiled, overwhelmed by the sweetness and the realness of the boy sitting next to you. 

He was right, of course, your love wasn’t sketched out in the blueprint of the universe. It was grown and cultivated by two pairs of gentle hands, like a flower blooming in the box outside someone’s window or a blazing fire heating a home.

You had never needed the universe’s help to find true love.

Your boyfriend reached toward you, cradling your tear-stained cheeks with his hands. 

“Do you feel that, Y/N? Do you feel like you’re on top of the world? Because that’s how I feel whenever I’m with you. You give me strength, strength that has defied the universe. How could a stranger pull my attention away from all of this? From you.”

“If they see them, how do we explain to them that there was some mistake?” You whispered.

You and Jungwon may be set on ignoring the curses inked on your chests, but the ones who shared your marks may not be.

 One would think Jungwon was going to kiss you with the way he was staring at you, but his gaze was much too serious for that. It looked like he was searching for something, searching for a solution, an answer to your question.

But, instead of kissing you, he moved away and toward the picnic basket you had packed and brought for your little stargazing date.

He dug around for a few seconds before finding what he was looking for. The moonlight flashed across the silver knife as Jungwon moved back to where you were sitting with it in his hand. 

“Jungwon…?”

He pushed his shirt off one of his shoulders. Your eyes grazed over his bare upper chest and sharp collarbones before settling on the blue ink resting above his heart. 

The skin around his soulmate mark was a little lighter than the rest of his body, because of how often he covered it, which made it stand out even more. 

It was the thing you hated most, permanently attached to the thing you loved most, so you couldn’t stop staring.

The glint of the knife tore you from your daze. Jungwon had raised it to his chest.

“Jungwon, what are you doing?”

He paused. “Choosing my own path.”

You placed your hand on top of his that was clutched around the hilt of the knife. You weren’t really sure what he was trying to do, you had never been so in the dark when it came to him before, but you knew that you didn’t like the idea of something dangerous being so close to your boyfriend.

“We should be free to be with whoever we want, Y/N, and for me, that’s you. Mark or not,” he told you.

You stared into each other’s eyes, a silent conversation passing between your gazes. You let go of his hand and watched, torn, as he brought the edge of the knife up to his chest and began to slice a clean line through his soulmate mark. He hesitated before drawing another line in the opposite direction, ending up with an “x” over this tattoo. 

The blood dripping from the cut exposed how deep it really was. It would definitely leave a scar, as you knew was his goal.

You grabbed napkins from the picnic basket, carefully wiping the blood away from Jungwon’s skin before it all traveled far enough to stain his clothes. He sat there quietly, watching you, trying to gauge your reaction to what he had done.

You dabbed at his skin gently. With the blood gone you could really see what the knife had done. A red “x”—the blood was already coming back—had marred the small stain of the universe. He had made sure that nobody, not even his soulmate, would be able to see it, let alone recognize it as a copy of their own.

All those years of being told that the universe’s will was absolute and that a splotch of blue ink was the highest law that could be adhered to had been rendered invalid with two swipes of a knife. Jungwon had freed himself from the heavy, groundless expectations set by an invisible force and upheld by your friends, family, society. 

The one thing that kept Jungwon from being completely yours (at least, in the eyes of everyone else), was now gone.

The knife lay discarded next to the two of you, blottings of Jungwon’s blood staining the blade and the picnic blanket beneath it.

“Y/N, if you’ll still have me-”

You picked up the knife, already brushing your shirt to the side with your other hand.

“Wait, I never expected you to-” he tried to stop you.

“I want to.”

His hands reached out toward you but stopped halfway, watching, confused, as your fingers traced the mark that, while completely different from his, was in the same exact spot on your chest.

You could feel your heart beating beneath your soulmate mark. It was pumping hard, as if to force the mark off your body from the inside. You thought of how much time you had spent hating the tattoo, wishing you would wake up one day and it would be gone or would have somehow morphed into something that resembled Jungwon’s. 

You recalled the night when you realized that you loved Jungwon, no matter how much your own skin was telling you you didn’t, and you had tried to scratch the ink off. Of course, it was much too deep to take off like that, and the resulting redness just made it stand out even more like Jungwon’s had, results of the contempt for your marks.

You mirrored your boyfriend’s movements from before, crossing out your tattoo with the knife and ignoring the bleeding. Jungwon went to clean up the wound with napkins, like you had done for him, but you stalled him, wanting every last remnant of ink to bleed out of your body.

Once the bleeding had slowed down, Jungwon placed a hand over your heart that beat solely for him. His thumb rubbed the tender skin gently, marveling at the new look of it while still being careful around the fresh cuts.

“Look, Wonnie.” you point a finger at his hand on your chest and another at his own. “We match.”

The two of you had overridden the universe and created your own matching pair. A soulmate pair. 

Jungwon smiled warmly, a giggle escaping past his lips as you shared this moment of disbelief and freedom and love.

He cradled your face in his hands once again, pressing his lips to yours and making you question how something so obviously perfect could ever be a mistake.

-

A/N: i hope that this isn’t… too much, the idea of two people making this choice for themselves, in this way, knowing that they were defying a fundamental law… i thought it was so romantic! drama is a little necessary when it comes to love, you know?

mwah <3

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Anything you write is so amazing so can I please request a marriage au and possibly mafia with Hyunjin. You can pick the plot!!

Hi! I’m not sure if you wanted smut, but I was inspired to write smut. Please enjoy.

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Hyunjin

Genre: Mafia AU; Marriage AU

Warnings: Language and Smut

Word Count: 1.7K

It was cold when you pulled up to your expensive estate, bundled up in a luxurious coat and an evening gown that cost more than the car your driver had brought you home in. But no amount of money could improve your current mood, silently loathing your husband’s insistence, yet again, that you return home early and miss out on all the fun at your best performing club.

“Fuck him,” you decided aloud, slamming the door closed behind you as you marched along the neat sidewalk leading to the front door. 

For the past several weeks, you had done your best to run the club downtown where you entertained the wealthy patrons who enjoyed the rare alcohol selections from the bar. You were the reason why the club was so successful, but then everything seemingly changed overnight, and you would always blame the drunk, inconsiderate asshole who started a huge fight that had to be broken up by every security guard you had hired. 

By the time Hyunjin arrived on the scene, your husband was incensed, and he enforced a very strict curfew that prevented you from staying in the club past nightfall. “Extra security measures my ass,” you growled. “Who else is gonna run that place while he drives around town making all sorts of deals?”

He hadn’t always been that protective. When Hyunjin found you after taking over your father’s pathetic excuse for an organization, merging the two together, and sealing the deal by asking for permission to marry you - the gorgeous daughter who could certainly handle herself in a fight - he promised that you would be involved in every aspect of his underground mafia dealings.

But then the fight happened, and you were stuck at home bored out of your mind while you resented Hyunjin’s decision to keep you locked up like some kind of animal. The anger and frustration continued to grow each night you found yourself gazing out the window in the living room and wondered what was happening to the rest of the world while huge, well-armed security guards walked the premises of your home and kept you inside. “I’m not doing this anymore,” you decided, and you didn’t even bother to change out of your club skirt before planting yourself at the mini-bar in the kitchen where you would wait for Hyunjin to drag his ass back home. “I won’t stand down!”

It was a worthy declaration, and you were in the process of rehearing everything you wanted to say to Hyunjin, ruminating over the past few weeks of isolation while glancing at the fancy clock ticking away in the background. The hour had entered the early AM when you heard the front door open, followed by the sound of Hyunjin’s voice as he spoke on the phone to one of his subordinates. “We’ll meet with him this Friday,” Hyunjin said, and you watched him walk into the kitchen, startling when he realized you were still awake. “Yeah, I’ll call you back tomorrow.”

You smirked, waiting until he hung up the phone before speaking. “It’s about time you get here.”

“I had some things to take care of,” Hyunjin replied, and he must’ve been ignorant to your foul mood as he walked over to spread your thighs, making himself comfortable between them. “You’re still all dressed up.”

“We need to talk,” you said, deciding that it was best to get straight to the point.

“Sweetheart, what’s your problem?” Hyunjin asked, and you frowned as he started messing with the knot on his tie.

“My problem is you, Hyunjin,” you snapped, furious that he was being so nonchalant.

“Me?” Hyunjin scoffed. “What the hell did I do wrong?”

“Really?” You rolled your eyes at how dense he was. “Can’t think of anything?”

“Is it because I’m home so late?” he asked. “You know I work late sometimes, baby.”

“Quit calling me that,” you growled. “I’m talking about the new club. You know I’m the best person to run it, but you keep sending me home like I’m a kid or something.”

Hyunjin smiled. “Is that all? You’re precious to me, baby,” Hyunjin whispered, kissing you like you were something delicate to be treasured.

“My father taught me how to use a knife when I was ten,” you hissed against the seam of his mouth, pulling back to glare at Hyunjin. “I’m not a flower.”

Hyunjin scowled, and you realized that you had said something to piss him off, swallowing hard when he grabbed your arm even while trying to keep on a mask of false bravado. “I just wanted to come home and make love to my wife,” he said, and you winced when the hold around your arm grew tighter. “No,” he continued, and all previous semblances of softness were gone. “You want to be fucked, isn’t that right?”

“I want to be treated with respect!” you protested, yelping in pain when he forced you up out of your chair only to spin you around and bend your entire upper half over the counter.

“Is that right?” he growled into your ear. “You want me to let you do whatever the hell you want?”

“I can protect myself,” you said. “I did it before I met you!”

“But you have me now, sweetheart,” Hyunjin cooed, and you shivered when he started sliding your skirt down your thighs. 

“I don’t need you to boss me around,” you insisted, even though it was quite obvious that Hyunjin had had enough of your attitude.

“Speak like that to me again,” he snarled, landing a sharp slap to the flesh of your ass. 

“What are you gonna do?” you challenged him. “Fuck the fight out of me? Act like the big bad mafia boss who orders everyone around?”

“Maybe I will,” he whispered, and your next words were wiped clean around a moan when two of his fingers immediately penetrated your tight cunt. “Not so mouthy now,” Hyunjin said, and you whimpered at his tone, legs shaking at the fast movements of his fingers against your delicate walls, grazing that sweet spot with every stroke. 

“This isn’t fair!” you whined, but Hyunjin only laughed in response, wrapping his free arm around your waist as he brought you back against his chest, curling his fingers just right as he flexed his wrist with talented motions. 

“You’ll cum once like this from my fingers,” he said. “And then once from my cock.”

“Is this your way of controlling me?” you asked, wincing when he abruptly removed his fingers and allowed you to tall back down against the counter.

“It’s my way of loving you,” Hyunjin said, and you could hear the raw emotion in his voice. “I just want you to be safe and happy, Y/N.”

“Hyunjin...” you tried, but there was no finishing a coherent sentence when his fingers were back on your clit, drawing harsh little circles with his thumb while three fingers stretched the walls of your still-tender pussy, pushing you closer to the edge while murmuring sweet nothings into the hair at the back of your neck.

“Feel good for me,” he said, and you choked around a stuttered exhale when your first orgasm of the night left you reeling from Hyunjin’s dramatic shift to something soft and decidedly un-mafia-like. 

“Baby,” you sighed, allowing your forehead to touch the cool surface of the counter to alleviate the sweat building there, groaning when Hyunjin slid down your panties and started working apart his well-pressed suit pants. 

“You can cum again for me, Y/N,” Hyunjin said, and despite the ache in your core, you spread your legs even wider for him when he started to push his cock between your gaping walls, replacing the spaces where his fingers had previously brought you to the edge. “So tight,” Hyunjin moaned, and his hands held firmly to your hips as he started pounding immediately, leaving you no time to adjust; although, you were already prepared for him because of the mess he had made from finger fucking you into oblivion. 

“Shit your cock is amazing,” you cried, tossing back your head against the fresh waves of pleasure, closing your eyes as you took everything he was giving you.

It almost felt like a peace offering, especially when your husband was more than inclined to take you over any available surface of your lavish home. 

“Yeah?” Hyunjin grunted, and you could practically feel his proud smirk as he gave you all his attention, working his cock at different angles and listening for your reactions: staccato moans and dramatic cries of his name. “Tell me when you’re close.”

“Soon,” you promised him, arching your back just a little more because it gave Hyunjin better leverage to hit your g-spot on every thrust. 

He took the hint, grinding his hips against your ass and working you over as only someone who had spent years learning your body could. “Do you need me to touch you?” he asked and you nodded fiercely, unable to resist the tears that started to fall when one hand returned to your throbbing clitoris, giving it some much-needed attention as the rest of you started to fall apart.

“I’m coming!” you cried, looking back over at your husband and nearly losing it at the sight of his concentrated expression. Sweat falling down the sides of his hairline, eyes focused on the place where he was pumping his cock inside of you, expression shadowed by the same lust and desire curling at the place where he was working you with his cock and fingers. “Hyunjin!” you shouted, losing every single last reserve of your inhibitions as you came for a second time, panting and desperate for him as he gave two deep thrusts before his cum joined your own.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, pulling his cock from your ruined cunt as you held on to the counter with whatever strength you had left since your legs almost felt numb from his prior ministrations. “I got you,” he said, reaching down to collect you into his arms, holding you close as he brought you both upstairs to your shared bedroom.

You sighed at the feeling of the satin sheets against your lower back, reminders of the extravagances that his mafia dealings could afford you both, reaching over to wrap an arm around Hyunjin’s waist to keep him close. “I know that you love me, baby,” you said, drawing his attention. “But I still want to work the club at night.”

“Y/N,” Hyunjin growled, and you savored the wild, animalistic look in his gaze that promised you both a very long night.

[theotherhufflepuff]

Simon Snow Trilogy Tarot Cards...

Ok so, a little while ago I saw this frankly stunning artwork by @vkelleyart and I started thinking about the Major Arcana archetypes and how characters from my favourite book series could fit into them.

So I made this list. It took a lot of thought and I’m still not 100% sure on some of them but I have explained my thought process for each card.

I don’t know how much crossover there is in the Venn diagram of “Simon Snow fans” and “tarot readers” but I’d love to hear your opinions and/or alternative suggestions (be respectful though, obviously). I’ve left “visual prompts” for most of the cards explaining what they looked like in my imagination and if anyone wants to draw any of these (or their own alternative version!) please tag me; it would make my day! I can’t draw for toffee so I am 1000% never gonna try to illustrate any of them myself.

List under the cut because it is loooong.

Spoilers ahead for the whole series!

0 The Fool - Shepard - Shepard just follows magickal creatures around and says “yes” to everything... he is the pure embodiment of the Fool archetype to me; care-free, innocent... prepared for everything and yet totally clueless. Visual prompt: Shepard about to (attempt to) step into the fog as he follows a fairy into the forest.

1 The Magician - Penelope - “Penelope Bunce is a fierce magician, I don’t mind saying” Baz, at least once in each book. Penny never worries about not having the power or words available to do whatever she wants; she is comfortable in her power and it is always there, ready to be wielded however she sees fit. Visual prompt: Penny wearing her Stevie Nicks cape, standing by a chalkboard in the classic “Magician” pose, ring clearly held aloft.

2 The High Priestess - Dr Mitali Bunce - Dr Bunce is possibly a more formidable magician than her daughter. Highly intelligent, straightforward and, let’s be honest, judgemental. But she does have all the answers. Visual prompt: Dr Bunce carrying around her laptop, phone sandwiched between her ear and her shoulder.

3 The Empress - Lucy Salisbury - Lucy exudes the nurturing, Earth Mother vibes that are central to the Empress archetype. She saw the best in everyone and all she wanted was to love Davy and live with him in their cottage with her chickens and their child. Visual prompt: Lucy, barefoot and pregnant, feeding the chickens outside of their cottage.

4 The Emperor - Lamb - This is one of the ones I’m not totally sure about. I went through a few different ideas but ultimately settled on Lamb as the “Vampire King of Las Vegas”. He is an imposing figure, ruling his city with an iron fist; if you are in his favour, Vegas is your playground, but cross him and you will suffer the consequences. Visual prompt: Lamb sits on an antique chair in his opulent suite at the Katherine, the lights of night time Vegas visible through the window behind him.

5 The Hierophant - The Mage - Again, this one took some thought and I’m sure some people will disagree with this interpretation... I’m not completely sold on it myself. The Mage was all about reforming the old traditions of the World of Mages and he amassed a following by doing so. But he turned out to be somewhat of a false prophet; abusing his power to oppress those he deemed “the enemy”. Visual prompt: The Mage in his Robin Hood costume, sitting at his desk at the top of the Weeping Tower, surrounded by his piles of banned books.

6 The Lovers - Simon and Baz - Obviously. As stated at the top of this post, I love @vkelleyart’s version of this card, but there are a lot of scenes across the series that could be used to illustrate this archetype. I personally always love to see the original “and then he kisses me” scene.

7 The Chariot - Fiona Pitch - I struggled with this one a bit and I don’t really think that this is the ideal version. But the image of Fiona, rolling up to Blackfriars bridge in her vintage sports car to rescue Baz from the Numpties really stuck with me so that’s what I went with, for lack of a better idea.

8 Strength - Ebb - Ebb is often dismissed and underestimated by other magicians but she is wicked powerful. But more than that, the Strength card is about inner strength, self control and the wisdom to know when to fight, and when to rest. Ebb is highly intuitive about the people - and goats - around her and is always careful not to talk about her twin brother, only conceding that she knows of his presence once a year and never giving in to the temptation to talk directly to him. Ebb saw the war coming and knew that she could probably end it all by herself with the power she had; but she also knew that she didn’t want that and she had the strength to say no, to eschew the expectations the rest of the World of Mages placed upon her and live quietly, instead. Visual prompt: Ebb in the hills behind the school with the goats, she wears a flower crown that the Dryad made her.

9 The Hermit - Agatha - the Hermit eschews the outside world in order to take an inner journey of self discovery, knowing that this is the only way to find real answers and achieve real growth. Agatha, jaded by the World of Mages, took herself off to California, leaving her wand at home. She didn’t know what she wanted but she knew it wasn’t magic. Visual prompt: Agatha sits on the beach at twilight by a small campfire, Lucy the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel by her side.

10 The Wheel of Fortune - The Crucible - The Crucible’s decisions, like the Wheel’s, are unpredictable and inevitable. Once it’s happened, you’re stuck with the consequences - sometimes bad (being stuck with a toff vampire who hates you) and sometimes good (getting the best room in Mummers house).

11 Justice - Natasha Grimm-Pitch - Natasha needed justice to find peace; her whole story is about justice. She was swift to act when the vampires attacked Watford, dispatching them without hesitation. When she came through the veil to find Baz and ask him to bring her murderer to justice, she knew that would also provide some closure for him, too, both for her death, and for his. Visual prompt: Natasha Grimm-Pitch appearing from beyond the veil, looking for Baz and finding Simon.

12 The Hanged One - Nicodemus - The Hanged One is about feeling stuck, but also about finding peace where you are when there’s nothing you can do about it. Nicodemus chose to cross over for eternal life, but he was stricken from the book; his (considerable) magic effectively taken from him and his fangs removed. He was stuck in between - not a full vampire, not a magician; he exists on the fringes of both communities. He got himself there and then he had to figure out how to get by, carve out a place for himself in order to survive. Visual prompt: Nicodemus sits in the tree in the garden of his mother’s house in South London, waiting for Ebb to come and sit on the empty bench beneath him.

13 Death - [scene on the Great Lawn] - Ok, so.. this might need some explaining. My immediate thought for this card was that it should be the Humdrum but Death is all about clearing out the old junk in your life that doesn’t serve you in order to make space for the new. And the Humdrum isn’t making space for anything. So I was thinking about times that has happened in the story and I thought about how the death of the Mage made room for real progress and an end to the war with the old families. Visual prompt: Penny and Baz (literally) run into a fleeing Agatha on the Great Lawn; the Weeping Tower looms in the background, the Mage and Simon visible through the blown-out stained glass windows.

14 Temperance - Simon and the Humdrum - Temperance is, as you might expect, about balance and harmony. Simon used so much magic at once that he couldn’t control it and it tore holes in the magickal atmosphere. Simon had to fill the Simon-shaped hole to restore equalibrium and stop the magickal firmament from collapsing altogether. Visual prompt: Simon kneeling in the Weeping Tower, pouring his magic into the Humdrum as he fades away.

15 The Devil - Smith Smith-Richards - The Devil is about feeling trapped by temptations in your life, often because we’re afraid of what we would do with the freedom we’d have if we let them go. Which got me thinking about Smith-Richards (that name never gets any less ridiculous) and all the magicians who were taken in by the temptation of “fixing” their magic. But it was a false promise and those magicians who narrowly escaped taking Smith-Richards’ spell were all freed from the idea of their magic being “broken” in the first place. Visual prompt: Smith-Richards (looking like the guy who would be cast to play Simon in the Netflix series) standing on a stage in the packed-out White Chapel, rapt audience hanging on his every word.

16 The Tower - The Humdrum - Originally I wanted to use the Weeping Tower for this card because the imagery is on point but the meaning doesn’t match. The Tower is about absolute destruction, the crumbling of something you thought core to your being. The Humdrum steals magic and renders magicians homeless because of it. The Tower is about having to start again from the ground up - just as the Grimms did when all the magic was drained from Hampshire. Visual prompt: The Humdrum, wearing Simon’s face, stands in the grounds of Pitch Manor, laughing. (I have always thought of the holes looking like a burn in a piece of paper - sort of glowing and smouldering at the edges as it eats away the atmosphere. I know the holes can’t actually be seen - the Normals would freak out - but that is imagery I would use here)

17 The Star - Lady Ruth’s candles - The Star is about hope and healing after the devastation of the Tower. Lady Ruth’s candles were a symbol of hope that kept her going when she thought she had lost her children. They provided comfort and, at the end when it became clear the Lucy was gone, the healing of knowing that her child had finally found his way home to his family. Visual prompt: Lady Ruth’s candles in front of a window, a bright star can be seen through the window.

18 The Moon - Agatha and Simon - So, the Moon is all about examining blurred lines between illusion and reality - nothing looks totally clear in the moonlight. It reminded me of how Simon never really seemed to have a clear view of his feelings for Agatha and what their relationship was. When he properly examined his feelings, he found that he didn’t love Agatha and was going through the motions because he thought it was what other people expected of him. Agatha was doing the same. It also brought to mind Simon, going out of his mind worrying about Baz when he was missing - as well as basically every other thought Simon ever has about Baz before Christmas Eve 2015 - and somehow mistaking it for hating him?? Simon is not stupid but sometimes he’s real dumb. Visual prompt: Agatha and Simon meet on the ramparts, both looking for Baz, and break up.

19 The Sun - Simon - This card is all about innocence, optimism and joy. Nothing about this series personifies this more than Simon flying above Shepard’s truck in America, feeling free and hopeful about the future for the first time in over a year. Visual prompt: Shepard’s truck drives through the vast empty desert, the sun beating down. Simon flies above the truck, joy on his face.

20 Judgement - Niamh and Agatha - Ok, this one was hard to figure out and this is maybe not the right solution, but I was very stuck. Judgement is about self improvement through self reflection. As a small twist on that theme; Niamh and Agatha challenge each other’s view of themselves and their interactions with the world around them. Visual prompt: Agatha and Niamh, sweating to death in Niamh’s “shitty Ford Fiesta” (I’m very salty about that line; my Ford Fiesta is lovely and it has aircon). Niamh is frowning, obviously.

21 The World - Simon, Baz, Penny and Shepard - The World is about completeness, the ending of a story, fulfilment and belonging. At the end of AWTWB, Simon has finally found his biological family, he is starting to accept that his boyfriend and his found family love him for who he is, magic or no, and he can finally start to imagine a future for himself. Baz has learned new information about his vampirism, Penny has found new confidence and Shepard is finally fully accepted into the group. Visual prompt: Baz, Penny and Shepard sit on Simon’s sofa (possibly still pink from Baz’s spell, possibly he spelled it navy blue again) Simon sits on the floor. They’re all eating leftover sandwiches and cake from Lady Ruth’s.

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Hello dear! I'd like to request a matchup for the hobbit please.

I don't really care who I end up with, but I have a preference for guys. I'm woman (she/her/herself) in her late 20s, who wears glasses. I have brown slightly curly, thick hair and dark brown eyes. I'm 5'6". (I'm also a single mom of 4 year old girl)

I'm very empathetic, but won't tolerate being manipulated or taken for granted. I'm independent, hard-working and responsible, but I really do have a soft spot for the people I love and can't ever be mad at them. I'm caring and treat everyone with respect, if they deserve it. But I'm known for overworking myself and suffer from frequent migraines.

I can speak multiple languages including german, russian, and polish and I'm quite athletic, so I know how to defend myself. I even own a sword. I love being outdoors and doing sports or other activities. I really like plants and I have a bunch of them at my home. I just recently have really gotten into gardening.

I love comics and I enjoy watching documentaries. I like to read and draw too! I can also sew. I'm into astrology and your typical Capricorn. Ambitious, organized and reliable. Thank you! Take as much time as you need!

eigtht christmas matchup this year! if you want one yourself, check my christmas special!! thank you to everyone who has requested! I'm working on all of the asks, but the oneshots will have to wait until I'm done with my exams, which depends on when I have to retake physics... no christmas spirit for me <3 lol

I ship you with...

King Thranduil!

(though I do have to admit I was thinking about Bard, too.... Seems like you have a very queen-like attitude)

- The first time you meet, you're out in the fields, playing with your daughter as she's running from you, laughing, and the wind rustles through your hair and hers, and brushes your dress and hers, and suddenly you find yourself eyeing a tall, white stud, and almost bump into your daughters back, who stands quietly and looks up at the elven king. His interest in you firstly seems to be what an elven woman is doing on a farm all alone with her child, but there's other reasons he eventually finds himself seated in your kitchen, drinking tea and smiling at the little girl you're sending to her room. It happens that he invites you to go with him - with him to Mirkwood, leave your home behind, if only for some time. You’re not too fond of the idea at first, but you agree in the end, if only because your daughter begs you and a king is hard to disagree with.

- Thranduil marvels at whatever you do, every aspect of you that unfolds as time goes on, and finds himself admiring you and all that you can do. It takes time to get to know you, of course, but he enjoys every second of it, and it reminds him of something he felt long ago, something he's thought unable to feel ever again. You treat him with respect, but you don't behave as though you're threatened by him, instead welcoming, and friendly, and warm. Rarely has someone treated him like that, and even rarer has he let anyone do it.

- He loves your daughter. In a way that seems almost fatherly, a way that he's loved his own son, too, decades ago. Despite what one might think, he is open with her, playful and sweet. He doesn't mind her affectionate behaviour, even if you often tell her off for it. He runs around and plays tag with her, he teaches her about bow and arrow, about climbing and horseback riding and hairbraiding. You often join them or let him join when you're doing something with her, hiking up a hill beside a king and a little girl that holds his hand, picking flowers that you explain how to grow the right way and not one, but two elves listen, reading a book out loud as you lean against a tree with your daughter’s head not in your lap, but in his. It's a miracle how close she's grown to him only in the two weeks it takes to travel back to the castle.

- One night you find yourself unable to sleep, and so you take your sword, search for a little clearing in the moonlight and train, the same way you always do when you cannot drift off at night. And before the sun even rises, you realise that he's come to watch, but you don't stop, because he gives no sign to. Eventually he draws his own blade, and the two of you spar. He's surprised at how good you are, not quite a match for him, but almost. He teaches you what you do not know, and by the fifth time training with him, which has grown almost into a routine, you're able to press your sword against his throat. He smiles then, admiring once again your skill and your strength and your love for it, your passion and your will. It's like once again a flame flickers inside of him that he's long thought dead.

- As you reach Mirkwood, you know by first sight that no matter how lovely your home, this is the place you want to spend your life at, the place you want to see your daughter grow up. Especially once Thranduil shows you the gardens. They're huge, gorgeously, overwhelmingly huge, and there's so many plants that you can't begin to count. You squeal, out of pure bliss, a sound not even your daughter has ever heard you make. When you're not in your stunning chambers, you're here. Asking to help, wishing to help, even if it's just watering the flowers. And Thranduil allows you to. Allows you to do whatever you want. So you do. You still spend your time with your daughter, though not only does she finally find children her age here, but also takes great interest in Thranduil and Legolas, and more than often now you're alone, such an unknown sensation that it almost feels wrong.

- The king has never been absent as much as he is after you agree to stay. Never has he left his throne room for so long, never has he brought as many books from the library to give to you, never has he picked so colourful flowers to have you plant for him, never has he smiled so much. You amaze him. Everything you do, all that you say, your laugh and your every step amazes him. You can keep up with him when he trains now, you ride so fast into the sunset that sometimes he has trouble keeping up, you dance so gracefully and so carelessly that he can do nothing but watch. You have no trouble being close to him. You have no trouble touching his arm, no trouble kissing his cheek now and then. You treat him with respect, but only as much respect as you treat everyone else with as well. And he doesn't mind. For once he does not care to be seen as a king, does not wish to be.

- It's then when he realises that he's fallen in love. That moment that he watches you stand atop your horse, your arms stretched wide as though to hug the whole world and your laugh echoes in his mind, and he thinks to himself that he does not care if he is king or servant at your side. He acts on it eventually. It takes him months, months even to notice that the bliss he's filled by is one of love, because he's not felt this way in so long. So, so long. And he knows that you've experienced the same. It makes it easier for him.

- You have never wished to be queen, and you still do not, even when you agree to be with him. Agree because you do not care that he is king as much as you care about your love for him. Love that comes from the way he smiles only at you, the way he wields his blade and straightens his back, the way he walks and talks and plays with your daughter, the way he memorises your interests and gives heartfelt gifts. And being with him, he assures you, does not change your life the way it is now. It does not mean being queen, not right away. And even if it did - he knows you could do it, and that you would. He knows that you can work well, he's seen the way you do, he's seen the way you concentrate. You'd make a great queen, and he's well aware of it. But he does not rush anything, because he knows that you have an eternity time for it, and for now he enjoys your peacefulness, the curious beginning of a relationship, the laughter and the dances and the kisses in the rain. Indeed, you have eternity left together, and he will not waste a moment of it.

i had a lot of fun writing this!! though i do have to admit that i did at like, 2am, so parts of this are me hallucinating and dreaming and i kind of created a whole story in my head and the whole thing has strangely dreamy colours and i still hope youre fine with it because i really did enjoy that illusion <3

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Perceptive Blindness

Prompt: hi can i have some hurt/comfort lamp where virgil gets the others together and pines maybe? im feeling down and need to see virgil pining. ps i love all your fics (especially Is It Enough?)

Thanks to the nonny for this prompt! I hope it's what you wanted, I had fin with it. I love writing in Virgil's voice so much because I don't have to try and rein in my natural snark as much. 

Read on Ao3

Pairings: LAMP babeyy

Warnings: our buddy V has a panic attack but it’s not super explicit

Word Count: 4814

It should’ve been easy, right? To see it coming?

 Listen, Virgil’s job is to be observant, to pay attention to shit. Just because he’s notoriously, um, overreactive doesn’t mean he’s bad at paying attention. He sees a whole lot of shit and hey if you saw as much shit as Virgil did you’d be freaking out too, yeah? Okay, great, got that sorted.

 So. Here’s the thing.

When Roman starts sitting a little closer to Patton that he used to on the couch or offering to help him cook and clean when they all know Roman would rather do anything else, Virgil notices. When Roman starts getting up earlier and earlier so he can beat Patton down to the kitchen so they can do it together, Virgil notices. (It’s not like he sleeps, he notices this shit when there’s not supposed to be people up and at ‘em for another half-hour.)

 So yeah, maybe he sinks into Princey’s room one day and smirks when Roman startles terribly coming out of the bathroom.

 “Hey there, Princey.”

 “Don’t—goodness, Stormcloud,” Roman huffs, getting his balance back, “don’t do that. Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

 “You were in the bathroom, you wouldn’t have answered.”

 “How did you know I was—you know what, it doesn’t matter.” Roman shakes his head. “What do you want?”

“What, I can’t just pop my head in and say hi?”

 “I’ve never in my life heard you say ‘pop my head in’ and I never want to hear it again.”

 “That’s where you draw the line?”

 “Everyone has a line, Dark and Stormy.”

 Virgil shrugs, smiling when Roman glares at him for curling up on his bed. Which, alright fair.

 “So.”

 “You’ve yet to explain why you’re in my room,” Roman reminds, sounding less upset than confused.

 “Just thought I’d say hi.”

 “Yes, sure, that’s it.”

 “What, you don’t believe me?” Roman just stares at him. “Okay, okay, I...may have an ulterior motive.”

 “Aha!” Roman points at him victoriously. “I knew it! Now tell me, you fiend.”

 It’s only the slight uptick of Roman’s mouth that lets him know that’s probably supposed to be a term of endearment.

 “Oh, nothing much,” Virgil sighs, “just wondering about your sleeping habits.”

 “Considering you’re the only one in the Mindscape who gets less sleep than me, you’re in no position to—“

 “I’m not here to yell at you, Roman,” Virgil says quickly, relaxing a bit when Roman’s shoulders slump, “I just…you know, I hear you when you get up.”

 “That’s…kind of creepy.”

 “It’s my thing, Roman,” he sighs, “I pay attention to shit and it’s not like I’m asleep.”

 “I know, I know, I didn’t mean it like that.” Roman sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Are you asking why I’ve been getting up earlier?”

 “Yup.”

 “It’s nothing bad, Virgil.”

 “Never said it was.”

 Roman sighs again, more dramatically this time, flouncing over to his desk, definitely not pouting. “Virgil…”

 “What? If it’s not bad, why don’t you wanna tell me?” Virgil’s eyes widen. “Ooh, is it a secret? Are you keeping secrets, Roman?”

 “Shut up!”

 “No!” Virgil lobs a pillow at him. “Tell me!”

 He ducks quickly when another one flies back at him.

 “Hey!”

 “You threw it first!”

 “Yeah, and!”

 “Gah!” Roman throws himself up out of his chair, trying to hide how red his face is. It’s not working. “What do you want?”

 “I told you, Princey,” Virgil grins, “I want to know why you’re getting up earlier and why you don’t want to tell me.”

 “Because I want to!”

 “And why do you want to?”

 “No,” Roman insists, pointing his finger at Virgil, “I told you, that’s what you wanted.”

 “Giving me the vaguest answer that doesn’t actually answer the question is not an answer.”

 Roman stares at him for a second. “We’ve said the word ‘answer’ too many times. It’s not a word anymore.”

 “Pity.” Virgil shrugs. “Guess you’re gonna have to just tell me.”

 “That’s not—how does—“ Roman pinches the bridge of his nose. “That is not how this words. Works.”

 Virgil snickers.

 “Shut up.”

 “You’re so flustered, Princey. I haven’t seen you like this in ages.”

 “Leave me alone, Virgil.”

 The note of genuine irritation in Roman’s voice is enough to give Virgil pause. He slides off the bed and walks over to Roman, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels.

 “You mean that, Roman?”

 Roman looks at him from between his fingers, then looks away. “…no.”

 “Okay.” He bumps Roman with his elbow. “Sit down, Princey.”

 He winces when Roman lets his knees buckle and just collapses onto the floor.

 “I didn’t—okay fine.” Listen, Virgil has no respect for ‘normal’ sitting places at the best of times. He sits next to Roman and watches the prince worry at the cuffs of his sleeves. “Roman, you gotta—you’re gonna fuck them up.”

 “It’s fine,” Roman mutters absentmindedly, “I’ve done this before.”

 “…not exactly reassuring me here, dude.”

 “No, not—not this, I just meant the—my sleeves, they’re…they’re not…it’s fine.”

 Virgil nods, frowning as Roman starts to fidget a little more.

 “…Princey—“

 “It’s Patton,” Roman blurts, his face flushing even brighter, “I—that’s why I’m waking up earlier.”

 Something in Virgil’s chest twists.

 “I figured,” he says instead, bumping Roman’s shoulder again, “you, uh, you had that look about you.”

 “What look?”

 Virgil tilts his head a bit. “You…you do know what you look like when you’re in love, don’t you Princey?”

 If Roman’s eyes could go wider than when Virgil said he knew what was going on, well, they do.

“I—I’m—wait, what?”

 “You’re romance, aren’t you?” The corner of Virgil’s mouth tugs upward. “Passion, desire, romance, all of that, right?”

 “I am, but—“

 “You—alright, I gotta figure out a way to say this without being sappy as shit,” Virgil grumbles, looking away for a moment. “Okay, uh—you’re—there’s no way to say this and not sound absolutely ridiculous, but um…your color’s red, right?”

 Roman nods, still staring at him.

 “You…your eyes turn red, Roman,” Virgil mumbles, “like…you know how cartoon people get like…hearts in their eyes?”

 “I get literal heart-eyes?”

 “Kind of?” Virgil waves his hand. “You just—you’re—your irises go red and like…sparkly.”

 “They do?”

 “Have you seriously never noticed?”

 “No!” Roman looks like someone just told him Thomas got another Disney job or something. “I—oh my goodness, this is incredible! How can I see this!”

 “Here’s a tip,” Virgil snickers as Roman’s cheeks start to color again, “next time you’re in the kitchen with Patton or something, look at yourself in the mirror or something reflective right after you look at him.”

 “O-okay,” Roman mumbles, “okay, okay, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this—“

 “Hey—“ Virgil prods him— “you’re supposed to be downstairs in ten minutes anyway, just go now.”

 “Right!”

 “And…he’s gone,” Virgil sighs, getting up and sinking back to his own room. He pulls on his headphones and turns up the music.

 Had Roman…really never noticed his eyes did that? The dude’s had eyes for—well, as long as you have eyes for. Has he never looked at himself when he’s working before? Jeez, and here Virgil thought Roman was looking in a mirror every two seconds.

 Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s noticed something that none of the others did. But still, what with how…obvious Roman can be sometimes, had the others really never noticed this either?

 As it turns out, the answer is yes, but also no.

 They’re in the living room a few days later and Roman’s bouncing off the walls, as per usual, as Logan looks up every so often from his book, and Patton giggles. Virgil is decidedly not paying attention because of course he isn’t, curled up on the floor out of the way of Roman’s bouncing.

 “Watch where you’re going,” Logan scolds when Roman almost brains himself on the banister, “you’ll hurt yourself.”

 “Pfft,” Roman blusters, “I haven’t paid attention to a single thing in my entire life and I’ll be damned if I start now.”

 Virgil snorts. Patton makes a vague noise of concern. Logan just sighs.

 “Roman, you are clearly intelligent enough to demonstrate that you do pay attention to things.”

 “I dunno,” Virgil says, “he didn’t notice his heart-eyes when he’s in love until I told him about them.”

 Roman sticks his tongue out. Virgil sticks his out back. Then they notice that Logan and Patton are quiet.

 “Guys?”

 “Roman has what?” Logan closes his book. “I…I was also not aware of this.”

 “Hah!” Roman points at Virgil. “See, it’s not just me!”

 “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

 “Patton? Did you also know this?”

 “Y-yeah,” Patton manages, his voice strangely quiet, “I mean, I knew about Roman’s eyes, but…doesn’t he have that all the time? Not just when he’s in love?”

 Oh.

 Oh, shit.

 Roman freezes, his mouth opening and closing without making sounds. Logan looks quizzically back and forth between the two of them until Virgil clambers to his feet and knocks his elbow.

 “C’mon, L, let’s go somewhere else.”

 “Why?”

 “You’ll see.”

 Sure enough, after a few minutes of them walking away to give Roman and Patton some privacy, Logan makes a small ‘ah’ sound.

 “Yeah,” Virgil sighs, “took them long enough.”

 “I am pleased to say that this I did notice.”

 “Right?”

 “I mean it’s not like it isn’t obvious.”

 “That’s what I said.”

 “Honestly, did they believe we couldn’t see?”

 “I don’t think they knew until like, ten seconds ago.”

 “They truly are a bit oblivious, aren’t they?”

 “Oh, hell yeah.”

 Hey, you know how sickeningly adorable Patton and Roman are normally? You know how much more sickeningly adorable they got after this happened?

 Great.

 Now double that.

 Now you have like, some idea of what Virgil’s going through.

 Dates. Kisses. Flowers. Baking together. Sitting on top of each other. Whispers in the corner. Curled around a phone so tight they can’t tell whose legs are whose.

 All.

 The.

 Time.

 Is Virgil happy for them? Yes. Absolutely. Great for them. Is he also about to down a bottle of soy sauce to even out the amount of pure sugar he’s being forced to consume? Pass that salt factory over here, please, pronto. That’s probably why the feeling that twisted in his chest hasn’t gone away any.

 “Seriously,” Virgil huffs to Logan after the two of them vanish from the kitchen, “Thomas is gonna have so many cavities.”

 “That’s not how it works, Virgil.”

 “But it fucking could be.”

 “I must say I think this has had a…positive impact on Thomas,” Logan says instead, “that his heart and his ego are so…compatible.”

 Virgil snorts. “That’s one way to put it.”

 “I suppose it makes sense.”

 “Yeah, yeah, it makes sense. Right brain boys, we get it. Doesn’t mean I don’t feel like I’m drowning in a gallon of vanilla syrup every time I walk into a fucking room.”

 “Alright, enough,” Logan says, giving Virgil a reprimanding look that’s just this side of too smiley to be effective, “I need more coffee.”

 “Ooh, get me some too?”

 “I have a better idea: why don’t you come with me?”

 Virgil groans. “But that requires moving. And effort.”

 “You have legs.”

 “But—“ Virgil wriggles down into the nice little divot in the couch cushions— “comfy.”

 Logan sighs, shaking his head in what might be fond exasperation. “Very well. Hold this.”

 “Okay,” Virgil mutters, taking Logan’s empty coffee mug, “what are you—hey!”

 Logan, because apparently none of them have noticed that he can apparently do this, simply tucks Virgil under his arm like a sack of potatoes, conveniently ignoring the fact that Virgil is, you know, a fucking heavy-ass person, and walks off toward the kitchen like this is absolutely fucking normal.

 “Do I even weigh anything to you?”

 “Your weight is not insubstantial.”

 Well, judging by the way Logan’s just walking, like a normal person, uh, it doesn’t seem like it.

 “How—since when—what?”

 “Articulate as always, Virgil,” Logan remarks, stride never faltering, “I do seek to maintain some level of physical fitness.”

 “Some level of—Logan, you’re carrying me like it’s nothing!”

 Logan glances down and raises an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

 Nope. Absolutely not. Not from this angle. Holy shit.

 “No,” Virgil squeaks, “no, nope. I’m good. No problems.”

 Logan hums and looks away, easily setting Virgil back on his feet once they get to the kitchen.

 Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine right now. Everything’s so fine. Everything’s so fine and good right now in the way that it’s happening. It’s never not been fine. Virgil’s never been more fine in his fucking life.

 Holy fuck.

 Okay, so Virgil was not observant enough to pick that up the first time around—get it? No? Fuck you, that was funny—but he does start noticing it more often. How Logan can just sigh and pick up the couch to grab his pencil, or how he never balks at having to put away the really heavy dishes that Patton struggles with. It’s—okay. Yep, he can deal with this. Totally.

 Virgil just sees a lot, okay?

 Which means that he can see how Roman and Patton react when they first realize how strong Logan is.

 Patton’s looking for something in the top of the cupboard, straining on his tiptoes. He sighs and starts to try and climb the counter.

 “Patton!” Logan rushes into the kitchen past Virgil who sits back to watch the show. “Don’t do that, you know how dangerous it is.”

 “I know, I know, but I can’t find the brown sugar, I think I pushed it back too far!”

 “Just get the step stool, you know where it is.”

 “But it takes so long to reorganize the closet to get it out,” Patton protests, “and I know where it is, it won’t take long.”

 “We do need to fix that, don’t we?” Logan sighs. “Alright. You say you know where it is?”

 “Yes! I can see it, I just can’t reach it.”

 “Alright. Ready?”

 “Ready for—oof!”

 Patton squeals when Logan just…picks him up and holds him by the cupboard, clutching Logan’s arms like he’s going to fall.

 “L-Logan!”

 “Can you reach it?”

 “Y-yeah, I can probably—oh my goodness, Lo, you’re strong!”

 “I’m not going to drop you, Patton, just grab the sugar.”

 “Okay, okay, I, um…” Patton fidgets, still clutching Logan’s hands. “Gosh!”

 “Patton? The sugar?”

 “R-right!” Patton pulls the bag of sugar out of the cupboard as Logan lowers him gently to the ground. “Wow, thanks, Logan!”

 “Of course. Though we really must get the closet reorganized, the step stool does not good if we can’t easily access it…”

 Virgil snickers as Logan goes off about the closet. He knows damn well Patton is not paying any attention to what he’s saying. He catches Virgil’s eyes and just mouths ‘wow!’

 Virgil responds with a shrug of ‘what can you do?’

 “Virgil?”

 “What’s up, L?” He cranes his neck back to peer up at Logan.

 “Patton has requested that we all come to stay in the kitchen,” Logan says, offering a hand to pull Virgil to his feet. Virgil briefly entertains the idea of making Logan pick him up again when he decides against it.

 “Okay…?”

 “Do you happen to know where Roman is,” Logan asks as he pulls Virgil up, “or no?”

 “I think he’s in the Imagination?”

 Logan rolls his eyes. “Then you may as well come with me. We’ll have a better chance of finding him.”

 Virgil tips Patton a lazy two-fingered salute as they make their way up the stairs. Sure enough, the bright red door to the Imagination is ajar, and as Logan steps through, Virgil spots a castle, a briar garden, and many many cloud fortresses above.

 “Well,” Logan huffs as Virgil closes the door, “he’s not running out of energy any time soon.”

 “Good.”

 “Quite.” Logan glances around. “Well, we’d better start looking.”

 Virgil’s about to agree when he hears something whistling above him. He looks up and squints.

 He takes two steps to the left.

 “Virgil?” Logan turns around. “What’re you doing?”

 In response, Virgil just points up.

 Logan follows his finger, his expression changing from one of confusion to that familiar fond exasperation again. Virgil expects him to glance around for something soft, or squishy, or at the very least move out of the way.

 Instead, Logan simply sighs, takes two steps closer, and holds out his arms…

 …and catches Roman effortlessly in a princess carry.

 “Hello, Roman,” Logan says like he didn’t just fucking do that, “Patton wants everyone downstairs.”

 “I don’t think Roman’s got speech right now, L,” Virgil snickers.

 Indeed, Roman—which, hang on, let’s preface this by saying this is a reasonable reaction, okay? Logan just fucking caught him after falling from god knows how high like he weighs less than a fucking pillow, this is not something that just happens—is staring open-mouthed at Logan, panting heavily, frozen in Logan’s arms. Logan tilts his head.

 “Roman? Are you okay?”

 Virgil snorts when Roman suddenly flails and tries to struggle out of Logan’s arms.

 “Roman,” Logan says sternly and holy fuck, “if you want me to put you down I will, but if you do that you’re going to hurt yourself.”

 “Yep,” Roman squeaks, “you can—you can put me down, I can walk, you can put me down.”

 “There we go.” Logan puts him down only for Roman to quickly brush himself off and dart toward the door. “Where are you going?”

 “Patton! Downstairs! Forgot! Bye!”

 “Well, he seems to be in a hurry,” Logan sighs, adjusting his glasses, only to frown at Virgil when Virgil just bursts out laughing. “What?”

 “No, no, you gotta—holy shit!” Virgil doubles over, still cackling. “Oh my god, his face.”

 “I don’t understand what’s so funny,” Logan says a moment later when Virgil’s wiping tears from his eyes, “did I do something wrong?”

 The concerned question sobers Virgil, at least enough to stop dying. “No, no, L, you’re fine. Roman’s just…having a moment.”

 “Because he forgot about Patton’s request,” Logan nods, “and does not wish to offend him.”

 “…yeah, that’s it.”

 “Well,” Logan says, dusting himself off, “let’s not be late too, hmm?”

 “Sure, L.”

 Logan might not know why Roman and Patton are muttering furiously to each other and spring apart the second they appear around the end of the stairs, but Virgil does. He just chuckles and winks and settles in to watch a dinner of the three of them being absolutely idiots.

 It’s fine.

 It’s so fine.

 It’s probably because he was laughing so hard that his chest still hurts.

 This lasts for like a week, and Virgil’s fucking face hurts from laughing at their fucking faces and trying to hide how hard he’s fucking laughing. And yeah okay Virgil’s in no position to judge, he’s got no idea how ridiculous he looked when he got jump scared by Logan’s freaky strength.

 And it’s just not fucking fair because if it was Roman, they’d all expect it. He’d be sweeping them off their feet every two seconds and they’d be used to it by now. If it were Patton, he’d just pick them up and hug them and be the best dad ever and that would be great. But no, it’s Logan.

 Logan who’s…Logan. Who can calm them all down better than anyone else but also has that sharp-as-hell tongue and quick wit that runs circles around them. Fuck. He’s just—gah.

 Okay, at least Virgil’s not alone here. He’s seen Patton fumble through his words around a surprisingly patient Logan for ages now, and watched Roman stand way too close to Logan too. And yeah, okay, he’s seen the way Logan looks at them too.

 So much so that he bites the bullet one day and sighs, tugging Logan out of the living room and to his room.

 “Virgil? What’s going on?”

 “What’s going on,” Virgil sighs, “is that if I have to look at you pining over them for one more second I am going to scream.”

 Logan, to his credit, doesn’t try and deny it. Instead, he simply adjusts his tie and glasses, studiously avoiding Virgil’s gaze. “I suppose it really is that obvious.”

 “To me, yeah, to those two, not so much.”

 “I will get over this, I’m working on it.”

 “God, no, L, that’s not what I—“ Virgil pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just talk to them, okay?”

 “Are you certain? But you’d be…okay with this?”

 Virgil levels a stare at him. “Dude, have you not seen how they look at you?”

 “…no?”

 “What is it like for you guys? It must be so boring.”

 “I can assure you,” Logan says wryly, “I can see perfectly well.”

 “Sure, Specs.”

 “Alright, that’s enough.”

 “Yeah, uh-huh. Sure.”

 “Virgil!”

 “No, no, I’m just saying it’s interesting that—“

 “That’s enough.”

 Virgil gulps. “Mhmm. Okay. Yep. Got it.”

 He wisely does not go into the living room for the rest of the day.

 There’s a lot Virgil sees. He sees the way Logan makes two extra mugs of coffee, sits just so on the couch, touches the small of Roman’s back or the crook of Patton’s shoulder. He sees the way Roman smiles when he looks at Patton the way he doesn’t smile any other time, wraps his arms tightly around Logan’s waist and hooks his chin over his shoulder, keeps his door cracked a little more than usual. He sees the way Patton fusses over the cookies, making sure they’ve always got Roman’s chips and Logan’s pretzels stocked, walks in the middle of the two of them with their hands swinging.

 He sees a lot.

 And, uh…he realizes something.

 Remember that, uh, funny feeling in his chest that he totally thought was from somewhere else?

 Listen, just because he sees a lot of stuff doesn’t mean he’s the best at recognizing it.

 So yeah. He’s, uh…

 You know.

 Don’t make him say it.

 As it turns out, that can make you blind to certain things. When he’s hyper-focusing on the things he knows he’s going to see, he doesn’t really have the space to realize there’s a whole host of things he doesn’t see.

 He doesn’t see the way Patton’s smile drops when Virgil declines his invitation to movie night, saying he doesn’t wanna crash or invade. He doesn’t notice the way Roman makes a point to ask permission to hug Virgil too, cradling him with a tenderness he doesn’t notice that he’s only seen for the others. He doesn’t realize how much Logan’s behavior toward him is how Logan treats Roman and Patton now.

 He doesn’t notice much past the ache in his chest.

 Then he has a panic attack on their date night and the pain sharpens to an unbearable whine.

 They’re not coming. They’re not coming. There’s no one here to help him, he’s alone, he’s always going to be alone, in the dark, in the shadows, away from the light. They’re not worrying about him, why would they? They’ve got each other, they don’t need him, they’ve never needed him, not like he needs them, he’s—he’s all alone, he doesn’t have anyone, no one wants him, he’s going to die like this. He’s alone. It’s cold. The cold is painful. His chest burns from how cold it is. He can’t breathe, it’s so cold.

 “Virgil?”

 No one is here, no one is coming.

 “Roman, can you—?”

 Something bangs in the distance.

 “Virgil!”

 Strong arms wrap around him and pull him into something warm. More strong arms cover his hands and gently pry them away from his face. Something soft rubs his face and strokes over his back.

 “I need you to breathe with me, kiddo, come on…”

 “We’re right here, Stormcloud, you just calm down now.”

 “It’s okay, Virgil, everything is okay.”

 They’re…here?

 No, no, no, they’re not supposed to be here, it’s their date night, they—oh, god they’re missing their date night for him and he’s ruining it and they’re going to hate him now and—and—

 “Shh, shh,” comes Logan’s voice from somewhere above him, “hush now, Virgil, it’s alright. We’ve got you.”

 “You’re safe, sweetheart,” Patton coos, “I promise. You just sit with Logan for a minute, okay?”

 “I’m—I’m so—sor—sorr—“

 “None of that, shadowling,” Roman murmurs, brushing—wait, what?—brushing his lips over the back of Virgil’s shaking hand, “it’s not your fault.”

 The ache in Virgil’s chest expands and collapses in on itself again.

 Logan makes a comforting noise, tugging Virgil gently this way and that until he’s square in Logan’s arms, his head pillowed in the crook of Logan’s neck. Roman’s hand cards through his hair. Patton taps the 4-7-8 rhythm gently on his arm.

 “Virgil, honey?” Patton reaches up to dab at his damp cheek when he mumbles a full apology. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

 “Yeah,” Virgil manages, “y-you can go now, ‘m sorry.”

 Roman chuckles. “If you think we’re leaving you, little demon, you’ve got another thing coming.”

 “B-but you—“

 “Shh, shh,” Roman says quickly when Virgil’s breathing starts to pick up again, “take it easy, V, it’s okay, we’re not in a hurry.”

 “It’s your date night,” Virgil blurts, the words clumsy and too loud in his mouth, “you—you shouldn’t have to be here. W-with—“

 “…with,” Patton prompts gently, “with what, kiddo?”

 “…with me.”

 “Oh, kiddo…”

 “If you think,” Roman says quietly, “that we’d rather be anywhere else than right here, with you, at any time, you’re sorely mistaken, V.”

 Wait.

 What?

 “B-but we’re—you’re—I’m not—“

 “Not what, kiddo?”

 “…yours.”

 Saying it out loud punctures his chest again. Tears well up in his eyes as he buries his face shamefully in Logan’s neck.

 “…oh my god,” he hears Roman say faintly, “it happened!”

 “But I thought we—we were being more obvious!”

 “I know! I thought we were too! But this happened! It’s just like the stories, oh my goodness—“

 “Oh, kiddo…”

 Virgil can’t process any of that right now, thank you very much, because he’s currently hiding in Logan’s embrace and would rather never emerge again.

 If he had, well, he may have been a little more prepared for Logan to cup his face with one hand and pull back enough to look him in the eyes.

 “Virgil,” Logan whispers, “we thought you already were.”

 Stop.

 Wait.

 Pause.

 Go back.

 Rewind.

 “What?”

 “Surely you’ve noticed, kiddo, haven’t you?” Patton squeezes his arm. “We love you, Virgil.”

 “B-but—you—“

 “Stormcloud,” Roman whispers, brushing his lips over Virgil’s cheek, “we do, and you’re ours as much as you’d like to be.”

 “I—I—Logan—“

 “Patton’s right,” Logan says, still cupping Virgil’s face as he wipes away stray tears, “to be honest, I….well, I thought you and I were in a relationship long before Patton and Roman.”

 “You what?”

 In response, Logan leans forward and kisses Virgil’s forehead.

 “You don’t think I’d do that for just anyone,” he whispers, too quiet for the others to hear, “do you?”

 Hello, yes, hi, Virgil has precisely zero idea what’s going on right now, so uh, if everyone could just hold the fuck on for two seconds it would be greatly appreciated.

 “Aww, Left Brain boys!”

 “Shh!”

 Virgil isn’t interrupting date night.

 The others care about him.

 The others love him.

 The others want him to be a part of their family.

 Logan thought they were in a relationship already.

 “Shh, shh,” Logan shushes, his thumb stroking Virgil’s shaking cheek, “you don’t have to say anything right now, darling. This is a lot, I’m sure.”

 “Logan’s right.” Roman ruffles Virgil’s hair. “We’ll be here for you, Stormcloud.”

 “And that’s a promise.”

 Yeah, Virgil’s brain is way too fried by all of this to process any of it. But he does know that Roman’s hand in his hair is warm and soft and perfect. He knows that Patton’s murmuring something quietly that’s lulling him right to sleep. He knows that Logan is still holding him tightly, his lips pressed to his forehead, whispering how much they love him.

 “Go to sleep, darling,” Logan whispers, “we’ll be here when you wake up.”

 “…rude?”

 “You’re not being rude, kiddo, promise.”

 “Close your eyes,” Roman calls softly, his fingers scratching around Virgil’s head, “and you’ll see, Stormcloud.”

 As Virgil’s eyes drift closed, maybe…maybe they’re right.

 Maybe it’ll be a little easier to see that way.

General Taglist:  

@frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious  @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @private-snippers @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @elizabutgayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @such-a-dumbass

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist please let me know! ^_^