#who knows what happened there because she was unpredictable in what set her off

[drdemonprince]

I grew up with abstinence-only sex education, and it did a real number on me. But I’ve shaken off enough of my old cultural programming to realize that the transmission of bacteria and viruses is a thing that sometimes just happens when animals come together, no matter how stringently we might try to prevent it.

I have gotten urinary tract infections when a stray microbe found its way into my urethra after sex. Lube and bodily fluids have disturbed my vagina’s pH and caused a yeast infection many times. So has wearing a bathing suit for too long without drying it, yet another “risk” worth the pleasures of swimming along the sea wall.

Once or twice I’ve had an outbreak of cold sores, just like 80% of humans. If I’m like most people, I probably caught oral herpes when I was very young, sharing a sippy cup or rolling around at a sleepover.

None of this makes me disgusting, irresponsible, evil, or dangerous to others. It just makes me a living creature that exists in close contact with other creatures. I believe I have a responsibility to get tested regularly, to alert people who have been close to me when I get sick, and to use preventative measures like condoms, PreP, vaccines, toys, and masks to prevent the spread of infections as best I can. But I never imagine I can lead a life without risk — or that such a life would even be desirable.

There is no such thing as completely “safe” sex. A friend of mine can’t use condoms because they give her bacterial vaginosis. She chooses instead to fuck raw and take PreP and get anything else she catches treated. A guy I know who masks and tests religiously caught COVID while fisting someone (with a gloved hand!) at an air-filtered party. HPV is so prevalent that most sexual wellness clinics don’t bother testing for it, and can’t do much for a patient if they do have it. Our bodies are teeming at all times with various endemic viruses and microbes that we will never have the power to purge.

Then there are the possible costs of not having sex — vaginal atrophy, pelvic floor weakening, reduced access to endorphins, loneliness, touch starvation, the despair of harboring dreams that one never dares try. I can’t decide for anyone else which dangers loom the largest, but for me a gonorrhea shot is a fair trade for the hours of leg-cramping, bed-staining, hypno-kinky sex that led to it. There’s no guarantee that the next time I have sex it will be anywhere near as much fun, but the potential keeps me throwing the dice.

I hear quite frequently from sexually inexperienced Autistic people who crave an intimate connection, but desperately wish to remain responsible and “safe.” They want there to be a set of iron-tight rules they can follow that will guarantee they remain a virtuous person who never hurts anyone’s feelings, and never catches any sexually transmitted infection.

I understand why they want someone to impose order onto an unpredictable, terrifying world. But I can’t give that certainty to them, nor can anyone. All I can suggest is that they be honest with themselves about what they want, inform themselves of the costs and benefits to pursuing their desires, and then venture forward — proudly welcoming the correct risks into their life, rather than trying to avoid any risks at all.

Life is nothing but a negotiation of risk. If a person has gender dysphoria and they want to combat it, they must risk a transition they could one day regret. If an abolitionist wants to take a stand against the police state, they must plan for the possibility of arrest or political repression. When we open our hearts to love, we expose ourselves to grief — our partners will keep changing and growing, sometimes away from us. Each step that we take forward in life closes off potential paths. There is no avoiding this.

Instead of chasing after the false promise of “safety,” trying to remain completely insulated from harm and challenge forever, we must get better at admitting risk into our lives.

I wrote about all about the messy business of risk mitigation, and how the pursuit of perfect safety is used to justify isolation, theft of bodily autonomy, and political repression. It's free to read (or have narrated to you by the app!) at drdevonprice.substack.com

[astraystayyh]

An eye for an eye.

assassin!hyunjin x journalist!yn. slow burn. suggestive and angsty at times. she/her pronouns. 7.4k.

it is perhaps the most decisive night of your life. what are the odds that at the same time and place, it happens to be hyunjin’s too?

warnings: mention of alcohol, guns, bruises and injuries. brief talks of grief.

a.n: this is prompted by how hot villain hyunjin looks in the ate era 😭 it was supposed to be a drabble and i didn’t plan on it to be this long.. but i hope you’ll enjoy reading tehee it’s different from anything i’ve ever written so please feedback would be so appreciated,, muah muah 😘❣️

A ruby red lipstick. 

Your first childhood dream was to become a journalist, but not the complacent, obedient kind. You wanted to shed light on uncovered events, dig into the raw truth with your claws, and hold it up for the entire world to witness. You craved justice. You never believed in letting things flow their way, like a current that morphs into a torrent, destroying everything in its path.

No, you were a dam, forcing the water to change its trajectory. After all, you have always believed that all it took for change to happen was a trigger, a single flicker that would in turn burst into flames.

You wished to be it.

It was hard to grow into this specific kind of journalist, though. Not because you lacked drive, passion, or discipline. Especially not because you weren’t curious enough, brave enough. You were Seoul Press’s youngest and brightest reporter, after all.

But in a highly competitive field, you still needed your big story, your breakthrough which would put you on the radar of esteemed awards that all journalists venerate. Though you deemed it much easier to obtain a Pulitzer than to squelch your heart’s quest for truth, justice, and most importantly, in an unpredictable curb that life threw at you— revenge.

Your second childhood dream was to put on ruby red lipstick. Your thirteen-year-old self deemed it the ultimate show of power and confidence, each time you saw your aunt wearing one to her most important meetings. You dreamed of the day you could put it on as well, on your way to uncover the truth. 

And tonight, as you applied your ruby lipstick precisely, gliding the vibrant color across your lips, you felt nerves tighten like thorny vines in your stomach, puncturing your tender skin and leaving you a bloodied mess from within. 

Tonight, in your black gown and your ruby lipstick, in San Heo’s mansion, your country’s most prominent presidential candidate, and the man who ruined your life, it seemed like you were about to achieve both dreams at once.

… 

The clock hand points nine on Hyunjin’s Tank Louis Cartier watch. He throws a fleeting glance at the Victorian watch, before eyeing the people mingling at San Heo’s party. 

He knows all of the guests, memorized their faces and their habits. He knows the school where they drop off their kids and what bar they frequent every Sunday. He memorized their mannerisms and antics, knows what set them off and what did not.

This is the fruit of two years of work, after all.

He knows exactly why everyone is here, tonight particularly. Three politicians’ families and friends gathered as a show of power, to prove that they weren’t afraid of whoever’s been forcing politicians to come clean about their crimes for the past three months.

In the least glamorous manner, at that too, to put it delicately—ten bloodied tapes sent to the country’s most prominent media channels, where ministers and heads of multinationals are bound by ropes to a chair, recalling their most heinous crimes: money laundering and embezzlement for most, theft and murder for some.

The latter is Jung Cho’s case, San’s most successful competitor for the presidency, who has also mysteriously vanished from the police’s grasp since the release of his tape. No one can get a hold of poor Jung Cho anymore. 

Hyunjin smirks lightly to himself. His knuckles seem to have healed well since he last dislocated Jung Cho’s jaw. Well, that was before he shot him through the roof of his mouth.

The golden cuffs of Hyunjin’s Versace blazer reflect the light of the dangling crystal chandeliers, and he runs a weary hand through his black locks. He never chose to gel them back; he wasn’t one for structure, preferring the feeling of his silky strands brushing against his fingers. 

His eyes catch those of San’s across the room, who tips his glass of whiskey towards Hyunjin—a job well done, he reads in San’s stare. Hyunjin raises his red wine back, before settling it across the table once more.

It is a boring half an hour that awaits Hyunjin.

That is until he sees you.

You weren’t here two minutes ago, Hyunjin is sure of this. And, judging by the way you are leisurely sipping your sparkling water, your eyes gliding across the room in search of someone in particular, you had just stepped foot into the party.

Fashionably late, if he were to add.

But that is none of Hyunjin’s concern. What intrigues him the most is that your face isn’t familiar to him. That isn’t normal.

You weren’t supposed to be here, then.

Who are you?

As if hearing his question, your gaze locks onto his. He cocks an eyebrow at you; you mirror the gesture like clockwork.

Thus ensues an intense game of eye contact. You don’t break away from his gaze until two minutes later, a light scoff escaping your lips that he can discern even from afar. You then turn to look at San, your eyes morphing into something fiercer, more determined— a sniper finally locking eyes on its target.

Hyunjin feels a slight headache growing at the base of his temple. He downs his drink, before taking long strides towards you.

It’s official, you’re going to be his nuisance for the night.

27 minutes.

“Care to dance?” Hyunjin inquires as he materializes before you, a hand extended towards your body.

“Pardon?”

“A dance? To the lovely music we are hearing right now?” 

“I know what you mean,” you roll your eyes, leaning your body against the chair right next to you. Hyunjin’s eyes glaze over your legs peeking through the high slit of your dress. Had it been another setting, the sight of your black sheer tights would have made this night turn much differently.

Your voice dispels his thoughts like morning fog. “I mean why are you asking me?”

“Because I’m bored.”

“How flattering,” you grin sarcastically and Hyunjin feels the smallest urge to return your smile, although he knows it isn’t genuine.

“I know. Shall we?”

Your gaze flees to San once again, seemingly debating something in your head before finally sighing.

In the few seconds of scrutiny you consecrate to his boss, Hyunjin’s gaze lingers on your bright red lipstick, and the way you tuck your lip slightly into your mouth as you ponder.

A beautiful nuisance, he corrects himself.

“Fine,” You place your manicured hand in his in response.

“What’s your name?” he asks, as he settles one hand atop your waist. The fabric of your black dress is too thin, he can feel the heat emanating from your body seeping through his palm.

Focus. You need to discover who she is.

“Julia,” your hand settles atop his shoulder, while the other entwines with his. “And you?”

“Sam. What are you doing here?” he quickly inquires.

You shake your head slightly, gliding your hand from the base of his neck to the end of his shoulder.

“Isn’t it my turn to ask you a question?”

Hyunjin tilts his head curiously at you, before smirking slightly— “Yes ma’am.”

“What do you work for?”

“I’m Mr. Heo’s political adviser.”

“You’re quite young, though,” you note.

“I know.”

“And I don’t see you by his side a lot.”

“I work in the background, mostly. I don’t do well with the cameras.” He spins you around, picking up speed as the orchestra picks up the violin. “How do you know Mr. Heo?”

“I’m Kang’s niece, you know, Mr. Heo’s economic adviser? Uncle Kang is ill, and my father is out of the country so both of them chose not to come.”

Hyunjin’s memory faintly brushes off Kang’s single niece, completing her architectural studies in Paris’ Sorbonne. 

“C’est beau à Paris?” Is it beautiful in Paris?

You don’t even blink— “Même magnifique, tu devrais visiter.” Marvelous even, you should visit. 

Checks out.

“I’ll hold you on to that offer,” he says, before spinning you around, your chest settling across his back. Hyunjin ignores how his heart skips a singular beat at your proximity.

“So, what are you doing here?” he asks, his lips tantalizingly close to the shell of your ear. He watches as your chest rises once before your airy voice floods his ear.

“Networking, though you didn’t quite allow me to speak to anyone but you,” you tease slightly.

“I fail to see what an architect has to do with politicians,” he muses, as he sways you gently from left to right.

“I want to oversee the building of Jamsil Sports Complex.”

“So you’re using your father for work connections?” he taunts and you swivel around, placing both your hands on his shoulders before interlinking your fingers behind his neck, caging him within the notes of your perfume.

“Is it a crime?” your voice is airy, too airy, everything you say sounds rehearsed, you don’t seem intimidated by him, by this setting, as opposed to how a newly graduated student, one who grew up away from her father’s world should.

“Depends on your definition,” he counters.

“Do you regard it as such?”

Hyunjin’s gaze flickers all over yours. He senses something urgent in your gaze, as if you are pushing for more, beyond what this simple question entails.

When he remains quiet for a tad too long, you let your hands drop by your body, taking a step away from him.

“I need to go,” you say. He grabs your wrist instantly. “Where to?”

“Bathroom.” And with that, you quickly turn around and walk away, leaving behind notes of your floral perfume and ghosts of your ruby lips.

Hyunjin steals a glance at his clock. 09:13 p.m.

He drags a hand across his forehead wearily. He won’t let you ruin this night.

17 minutes. 

You are washing your hands obsessively in the bathroom, lost in thought as you gaze at your reflection, all blurry from your unfocused eyes. You only turn off the water once your skin starts to sting from the force of your touch. 

The orange-scented soap doesn’t seem to get rid of the stench of blood. 

A week ago. 

“I don't understand your obsession with Mr. Heo,” Christopher Bang calmly removed his glasses, placing them next to the shiny placate reading ‘Editor in Chief of Seoul Press’.

“He is corrupt.”

“As all politicians are,” he spoke matter of factly, and it angered you how unfazed he seemed before your, you admit, far-fetched request. 

“You don’t understand, sir. He’s different.”

“Did he do something to you?” Chris asked, leaning back against his chair. You felt exposed all of a sudden, like a flower left bare without its stem. 

“Would my answer change anything?” You inquired tentatively. 

“It would explain many things, yes actually,” he got up from his chair, before sitting on the one right across from you. “You are a talented journalist, Yn.”

“Thank you—“

“But you are utilizing the company’s resources to conduct your personal investigation on San Heo.” 

He knew. 

“You’ve been working on his case from the day you joined our media. Which was exactly 389 days ago. I know that you’ve managed to uncover quite some dirt, one that would make an explosive case if you get more information. That’s why I turned a blind eye to everything you did because I trust your skills and integrity.” 

You remained silent.

“But now, you’re asking me to completely disregard my deontology by finding a way for you to break into Mr. Heo’s mansion. That is a crime.”

“Not break in. I want an invite to his party, it is the first time he organized one in his home, probably the last time, it is my only chance to—”

“Details,” he waves a hand disinterestedly in the air, cutting you off. “Your intentions aren’t to mingle with politicians, it is to dig in his office and find something of substance. While I admire the lengths of what you want to go through, I must stop you here.” He leveled his eyes with yours. “This can land you in jail, he is the most important man in our country right now.”

“What if I tell you he did something to me, that he ruined my life? Would you help me then?” your voice was hoarse, tears pricked your eyes as you tried your best not to avert your gaze. You hated displays of weakness, despised them even more in professional settings. 

“What did he do?” 

You bristled at the question, ugly memories flashing before your eyes like a blinding light, your body begging you to flee away from this question and the heavy response it entailed.

Still, you spoke. 

Christopher remained silent as you recalled what happened on your doomsday, the night in which your world ceased to spin, and simultaneously, the reason why you joined his company, to begin with. When your sniffles subsided a few minutes later, he gently handed you a napkin, a silent invitation to wipe away the tears that had escaped.

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his weary face before finally speaking. 

“I’ll give you the invite tomorrow. Say that you are Kang’s niece, her name is Julia. She went to Paris for architectural studies, and that you are back for a vacation. Kang is ill these days, he won’t attend the party, and his brother is out of the country, no one will question you.”

“How do you know this?” 

“Because I know them,” he toyed with his lower lip lightly before a tiny smile drew upon it. “An eye for an eye, right? I’m Kang’s cousin. I changed my last name because I didn’t wish to deal with them anymore.” 

“So Bhang isn’t your real last name?”

“No.” He ran his thumb across his lower lip, seemingly debating adding something. “San’s office is on the far end of the third floor.” 

You heaved a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you.” 

“Don’t get yourself killed.”

13 minutes. 

It was one thing to stare at photographs of San seared behind your reddened eyelids or to stand at the far end of his press conferences. It was another to step foot into his mansion, to stand amidst powerful people who are capable of ruining your life had they known of your motives. 

But you didn’t have time to dwell on your personal feelings. Fear, nerves, all of those feeble emotions pale before the chance you have today. So, you nod at your reflection in the mirror, count to three in your head, and finally head out of the bathroom. 

“Five minutes, were you crying?” Sam’s bored voice startles you as soon as you set foot outside. He’s leaning on the wall across from the door, hands deep into the pockets of his suit.

Not again. 

“I know that I’m very pretty but don’t you have better things to do than to follow me?” you ask, pausing right in front of him. 

“I’m not following you, I just happen to be particularly fond of the architecture of this corridor,” he jokes and you ignore his words, walking past him with a renowned determination. He pushes himself off the wall, only to grasp your wrist once again, spinning you around until you’re facing him. 

He chuckles softly, tilting his head to the side. His icy blue contacts pierce through your skin like a puncture needle.  “You know, I’m curious, Julia. You seemed very eager to get away from me.”

You take a step forward, closing the distance between you two. “Have you considered that I found your company utterly boring?”

“You wound me,” he places a hand on his heart, any trace of humor absent from his voice. His grip tightens on your wrist for a millisecond. A warning. “I need you to leave.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“I’m serious. You shouldn’t be here tonight.”

“And why should I listen to you?” you challenge and his eyes darken further. 

“I can’t tell you.”

“Then let me go,” you mutter, slipping your hand away from his grasp. 

“Julia,” he says sternly, pulling you back till your back is against the wall, his hands rooted on either side of your body. 

It is a dimly lit hallway, and the sound of the orchestra barely reaches you. Your worry intermingles with a new kind of nerves, all orchestrated by his proximity, and the way his gaze brushes against your body like a skilled painter. 

“I’m not joking, leave.” His voice is much softer when he adds, “It’s for your own good. What will happen later doesn’t concern you.”

He knows something that you don’t know, something that, from his tone, none of the guests are aware of. You see something human in his eyes, in the slight crease doting his eyebrows. He seems genuinely worried for the innocent civilian he thinks you are. 

Your eyes turn to look at his hand near your head, only to notice his faintly bruised knuckles, shades of purple and green doting a delicate porcelain skin. They have healed well, then. 

Should you unearth the memory from two weeks ago— pleas for mercy, a deafening gunshot, and an excruciating silence afterward, the quiet after the murder that you remember most? 

Then, another scene rings in your head like bells of an ancient church— a bruised hand brushing against your own in an art gallery from two days ago, raven locks, and familiar, melancholy-tinted eyes. 

Could it be? 

Your voice turns sweet, tender, “should I trust you for the night?” your thumb brushes against the skin underneath his eye, wiping away the concealer you knew you spotted.

There it is, the eye mole you thought he covered. 

It clicks in your mind in an instant, pieces of a puzzle falling into place, there are still a few missing but you manage to grasp the bigger picture.

If he’s not letting you go then he could be of good use. 

What other choice do you have but to gamble with a killer? 

Your sharp nails drag across the nape of his neck, before settling right beneath his jaw. You mimic a gun, his eyes narrow in response.

“Is this how you killed Jung Cho, Hyunjin?” 

You feel a cold barrel instantly press against your stomach. “Police officer?” he asks. 

“No.”

“Journalist ?”

“Yes,” you slowly mutter.

“What’s your name?”

“I don’t wish to tell you.” The gun only presses further onto your skin. You feel a cold bead of sweat roll down your exposed spine. 

Breathe. 

“It’s Yn.”

“What do you know?”

“It’d be easier for me to talk if you removed the gun,” you smile lightly and Hyunjin only leans further, a distance as thin as a blade between you both.

“Speak.”

“You killed the only candidate that stood a chance in front of San. You drove him to the empty deposit near Inwangsan Mountain, tortured him for three days, filmed his confessions, and then sent them to many media outlets. Ours included. I know it because I followed you.” 

“Why did you follow me?” he questions. Your eyes flee to the end of the corridor where an impossible staircase sits. You are wasting your time. 

“Because I am investigating San. And through following him I ended up getting to know you. You are different from everyone he meets. Very secretive. So I figured it’d be worth a shot following you too,” you explain as calmly as you can. You’re sure the barrel of the gun will leave a bruise on your skin. 

“And why didn’t you write a piece about me? Everyone is dying to know who I am.”

“I have, I just haven’t released it. If I don’t come back home in an hour my head chef will post the video of you murdering Mr. Cho on every SNS. The public loves you for what you’re doing. But the politicians will come together to kill you. They have a price on your head. You are threatening everything they ever built.” 

Hyunjin drags his gun up your stomach slowly, trails it across your collarbones before it settles on your jaw. 

“I could kill you too, right now.” His tone is cold, evil. Very different from the man who asked you to dance. You know that I can.” 

“My death would only sign yours.”

Hyunjin’s forehead rests on the wall right next to your head. You can hear him inhale deeply, hear the gears turning in his head. “Fuck, you are driving me crazy.”

He drops the gun and takes a step back. “Why didn’t you expose me?”

“You are not the one that matters to me.” 

“What do you want from me then?” 

“Three minutes. Open San’s office, and then I’ll go. No one will ever know of your identity.” 

He remains silent. 

“Hyunjin, please.” 

“Fuck, fine. But whatever happens next you’ll have to trust me, okay?” his hands settle on your shoulder, his eyes leveling with yours, “if you’re not leaving then you’ll have to trust me enough, for tonight.” 

8 minutes. 

“After you,” Hyunjin bows slightly as he opens the door to Heo’s office. You step in first, and he steals a quick glance behind him—no one’s here, for now.

“That saved me the hassle of breaking the door.”

“You know how to do that?” he asks, slightly impressed.

“One of my hobbies,” you shrug before walking directly to the desk. Hyunjin leans against the wall, watching as you lift your dress slightly, revealing a small packet tucked into your garter. The sight drives Hyunjin a little crazy, and he closes his eyes for a second.

He really, really wishes he hadn’t met you here tonight.

You take out a listening device, tapping the bottom of the desk until you find a suitable spot, and then you stick it in place.

“Another one of your hobbies?” he smirks.

You giggle. “Mm, aren’t I the most fun?”

“You are,” his eyes drag across your figure, and he notices a slight falter in your posture, “the most beautiful too.”

You blink, and he’s suddenly in front of you, trapping you between the auburn desk and his toned body. You don’t seem intimidated, placing a palm on his chest as you tilt your head to the side. 

“Aren’t you curious why I’m going after San?”

“No, he angers a lot of people.” His thumb caresses your cheek, a touch so soft in contrast to his next words. “A lot of people fantasize about his death.”

“Are you one of them?” you question, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Right now, all I’m fantasizing about is you.” His voice is husky, and he finds it comes out much easier when he actually likes the person he’s attempting to seduce. 

It takes you a few seconds to speak again. “Is that so?”

“Mm, let’s dance.”

“Didn’t we dance downstairs?”

“That was Sam and Julia dancing,” he says as he entwines his fingers with yours. “You see, Hyunjin is a different kind of dancer.” His hand presses against your back, snaking against your bare skin. “Can I pull you closer?” he asks, and you simply nod, eyes fleeting widely all over his face. 

His chest presses to yours, so close he’s sure your hearts are syncing with one another, his inhales alternating with your exhales. 

“Yn,” he whispers your name, as you look up at him through the curve of your eyelashes.  

“Yes, Hyunjin?” His name sounds soft as it stumbles from your ruby lips, innocent from all the blood that drenches his soul.

“I like the way you say my name.” He glances at his watch above your head. 9:57.

“Hyunjin,” you repeat, as your hand drags up his neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair and gently dragging it backward, exposing his enticing neck to you. “You are always looking at your watch, what are you waiting for?”

He chuckles faintly, grabbing both your hands and spinning you around till his chin rests on the small of your shoulder. “You’re perceptive,” he mutters, as his fingers drag down your bare arms. “But so am I,” he says coldly as he grabs both your hands, bringing them behind your back. “Look, your hands are shaking just from my proximity. I don’t think you have it in you to film me killing Jung Cho. I don’t think you have it in you to watch me torture someone for three days.”

Click. Cold metal wraps around your wrist in an instant, handcuffing you to the leg of the table before which you’re standing. 

“I think you lied to me, Yn. I don’t like being lied to.”

“What are you doing?” you ask disoriented, panic spilling from your being like an overflowing cup.

Hyunjin pays you no mind, taking out his phone and dialing a number. “Boss, we have a problem. I caught a journalist trying to get into your room,” he taps his chin slowly as he looks at you. “No, no need for security. Just come alone. Don’t alarm the guests.”

2 minutes

“Are you serious?” you ask as soon as he hangs up, a prominent lump in your throat. “You told me to trust you.”

“Did I say I was worth that trust?” he pouts, seemingly mocking the vulnerable ordeal you found yourself in. 

A loud chuckle escapes your lips, your head thrown back as if before a hilarious spectacle of sorts. Hyunjin frowns, crossing his arms in front of his chest as your giggles slowly quiet down. 

“You’re a peculiar person, aren’t you Hyunjin? You need to hide your identity but you crave normalcy still, so you open your art gallery. You go to crazy lengths to cover your moles and wear contacts because you wish for people to look at you with admiration in their eyes, kindness. But you don’t deserve it.” There is a fire lit in your eyes, flames latching into his black suit and burning his already scarred skin. “You’ll always be as evil as them.” 

Hyunjin doesn’t respond for a while, his eyes simply softening at your words.

“I know,” he whispers. 

“Who’s this?” San’s voice booms loudly as he sets foot into the office. Hyunjin’s eyes break apart from your figure to look at San, bowing slightly to greet him. 

“Julia, she infiltrated the party,” Hyunjin explains, stealthily locking the door behind San. “She’s been investigating you for quite some time now. And… She knows about the murders.”

“Mm, she’s clever. Should we hire her?” San jokes and Hyunjin smiles politely, dragging his eyes over your face. You simply roll your eyes, seemingly more bored than scared. 

Cute. 

“Anyways,” Heo stares at you for a fleeting second before tapping Hyunjin’s shoulder. “She looks easy to kill. Just get rid of her. But don’t stain my carpet though, it's expensive.”

“Sure thing,” Hyunjin nods, taking out his gun and pointing it at your temple. He steals a final look at his watch— 9:30 p.m. he reads. 

Time’s up. 

“You didn’t think I’d let you go?” Hyunjin mocks, cocking his head at you. In a split second, a bullet ricochets loudly, but not at you. It grazes San’s ear, making him pause near the door, his back towards you both. 

“Right boss?” Hyunjin’s tone is slightly whiny, annoying is the best way to describe it. You can hear police sirens blare loudly outside, see the red and blue hues reflect off the window. Loud shouts erupt downstairs, Hyunjin leisurely reloads his gun, one hand deep into his pocket, San’s posture slightly falters, his fingers digging into the skin of his palm. 

“Do you hear that Heo? Your mansion is surrounded. All your filthy dirt is exposed. The police officers are arresting everyone downstairs right now. And they’re coming for you. The man of the hour.” Hyunjin makes a show of curtsying deeply. You stifle a giggle at his theatrics.

“You dare turn your back on me?” San yells, pivoting around to face Hyunjin’s barrel, the latter simply yawns as if it’s a regular Saturday activity for him. 

“Oh, don’t get emotional on me,” Hyunjin pouts, before his eyes narrow down coldly. “Now kneel. Let’s end this without staining your carpet.”

You see San slowly lowering himself to the ground, Hyunjin’s gaze sets on you for a millisecond, his pupils dilated in apology, in concern, you don’t know, you don't get to decipher his look because San is taking out his gun from his back pocket, aiming it at Hyunjin. “Watch out”— is all you manage to shout, and hyunjin ducks in an instant, propelled by the sound of your voice to the ground.

He could have died, he could have died because he looked at you. 

It all happens so fast, Hyunjin diving into San to take away his gun, both their weapons flinging into the air, San punching Hyunjin’s mouth and the latter retaliating by flinging his fist up against his nose. You’re struggling with your restraints, trying to reach out for the lone gun that fell to your right. 

A bit more, tune out the sirens, tune out the punches, slowly, only a few centimeters left, your wrist is on fire but that is the least of your concern, almost, there, you grab it.

You fire the gun.

It’s quiet once again, for the first time in two years, it is quiet in your head.

It’s over. 

You close your eyes, tilting your head back into the desk. The sound of your mother’s laughter floods your ears, her airy giggles as she brushes your hair and tucks you into her chest, her being a vision of beauty underneath the sun’s caress. 

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin kneels before you, wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks with his bruised knuckles. He is worried, even behind those icy blue contacts, you can still grasp his worry.

You nod, swallowing the sob that is lodged within your throat. Hyunjin is quick to unlock your handcuffs, entwining your fingers with his as he pulls you off the ground. 

You slightly push him aside, your eyes set on San’s bleeding figure. He’s still alive, rugged breaths escaping his chest, his palm pressed to the bullet that punctuated his stomach. 

“I want him dead,” you mutter, grabbing Hyunjin’s forearm to support yourself, “but I want him to rot in prison too.” 

“He will, for all his crimes. I have it all documented. The police have it too,” his palm rubs soothingly against your back, you lean further into his touch.

“He’s a monster.” 

“I know. They all are. That’s why I killed them,” he simply says, before guiding you back to a couch on the right of the office. He shrugs off his suit, draping it over your trembling shoulders. 

“Give me a minute.”

You watch as he grabs the gun you fired off of the ground, before taking a handkerchief out of his pocket. He wipes your fingerprints, making sure to leave his all over the gun. He then walks to the table, taking away your listening device and crushing it to the ground.

He’s calm and collected as he rearranges the scene to his liking, it looks like he has done this a million times before, as if this is the element in which he thrives— a sunflower turning to face the sun, at long last. 

He kneels before your freezing figure one last time, tilting your chin to the side so you’d look at him.

“I fired the gun. You had no idea any of this would happen, you’re just an ambitious journalist who wanted an insider scoop.” He senses you’re somewhere far, pulled by the ropes of memories that had long haunted your dreams. His warm palm presses to your cold cheek, your eyes are glossy as they rest on him. 

“You didn’t do anything. I’m the one who used you as a scapegoat to bring San up here, just like I agreed with the police. Alright? You did nothing.You know nothing.” 

“Alright.”

Hours pass in a cold blur, the weight of time lost on you as three police officers take turns questioning you. You repeat the lines Hyunjin taught you, your voice flat, devoid of emotion. Even as you step out of the police station, with Hyunjin's hand resting gently on your back, you feel nothing. A slight tremor runs through you when he mentions that San survived and will be transferred to prison once he's healed.

You don’t know why you’re disappointed you didn’t become a killer.

You don’t know anything, don’t feel anything as Hyunjin drives you home. You don’t question how he knows your address or the code to your elevator. It’s only when you unlock your door and he starts to pull away that reality snaps back.

Without thinking, you grab his wrist, suddenly aware of the loneliness that awaits you inside, an uninvited guest preying on your vulnerable heart.

“Would you like some tea?” you ask, your voice tinged with hopelessness, knowing just how silly you sound. Why would he stay? He has so many loose ends to thread after his finishing blow, you know he’s part of something far larger than you. 

As if mocking your question, his phone buzzes for the tenth time in the span of five minutes.

But then, to your surprise, he turns it off.

“Yeah,” he says with a soft smile, “I’d like some tea.”

As you bring the water to a boil, Hyunjin rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt, casually wandering around your apartment as if it’s not his first time setting foot in here. He’s always at ease— with a gun pointed at him or while looking at the souvenir magnets on your fridge. 

His calmness helps instill some peace in your heart too. 

“I like your apartment,” he says, accepting the cup of chamomile you hand him. “It’s cozy, feels like a home.”

“Thank you,” you whisper as you sink into the couch, your head hung low. So much has happened in just half an hour, too much for you to fully comprehend and process.

“Let me see,” he says a few sips later, as he gently removes the cup from your clutch, before sliding his thumb across your right wrist. The bruises have already begun to form, the red marks from the handcuffs clear evidence of your struggle to reach the gun.

“I’m sorry I involved you in this,” he murmurs, frowning as he avoids your gaze, staring intently at your wrist as if he could will the blue hues away. “I didn’t plan for you to be at the party.”

“I involved myself,” you chuckle softly. You’re not one for physical touch, but you don’t feel the usual urge to pull away from his grasp. His hands are warm, the roughness of his fingertips a stark contrast to the softness of your skin.

“You’re a stubborn journalist,” he says with a small smile, finally meeting your gaze. you suddenly yearn to look into the rich brown of his eyes once more. Was its shade as deep as you remember?

“And you’re an excellent painter,” you retort, eliciting a surprised laugh from him. The sound is unexpectedly endearing, and you’re caught in a whirlwind of contradictions. Is this really the same man you saw taking a life? The same man now holding your wrist as if it were made of porcelain?

“Right, you figured out my identity. What gave me away?” he asks, still smiling.

“I heard about this new gallery where the artist’s only clue to his identity was the name signed on his paintings. So, I decided to see for myself. While everyone else was captivated by the artwork, I noticed you, standing in the corner, observing the reactions of everyone around. You smiled when someone smiled, and your grin grew wider with each compliment. That’s when I started to suspect that the artist was you, all along.”

“I remember it now. I bumped into you as you were leaving,” he says, and you nod.

“What stood out to me were your sad eyes. That’s what I remember most. Well, besides your bruised knuckles.”

“And that’s how you connected the dots.”

“Yes, and your eye mole, too. Even though you tried to conceal it with makeup, it still showed.”

“Very perceptive,” he says with a grin.

“Thank you.”

“Aren’t you worried I’ll expose your identity?” you ask, as his hand gently slides into yours, his fingers resting lightly on top of yours. A simple, innocent touch, yet it stirs something unknown in the pits of your stomach. 

“I trusted you when you said I’m not the one who matters to you.”

“Why would you trust me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because I miss putting my faith in someone, even if they end up failing me. Isn’t that the most human trait of all?”

How could an assassin create such heartfelt paintings, overflowing with emotions too hard to explain with words, let alone colors? Perhaps because this isn’t the life he always wanted.

“Did you choose this?” you ask softly, your voice barely a whisper. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from the interrogation, or the near brush with death, or perhaps the relief that this chapter is finally closing for both of you. But something compels you to keep talking, to ask, to hold on to Hyunjin just a little longer.

“Being a killer, you mean?” His voice carries a tenderness that seems at odds with the weight of his words. He’s a walking contradiction, balancing two identities within himself—Hyunjin and Sam. One feels heavier on his bones than the other. 

“I grew up in this world,” he continues. “My parents run a large network of assassins—or vigilantes, depending on how you see it. Some people hire us, and sometimes we act on our own when we see injustice or corruption festering for too long. We conduct thorough background checks. We only kill those who truly deserve it. We always make sure of that.”

“An eye for an eye.”

He nods, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I always feel good in the midst of a case. One less evil in the world. But after, there’s just this emptiness. Now what? I always wonder. So I try to fill the void with painting.”

“Now what…” you repeat, your voice trembling as a lump forms in your throat. “Now what? What should I do now?” Tears well up and spill over suddenly, streaming down your face in an unstoppable torrent. “San is behind bars, but my mom isn’t coming back. So what now? What was all of this for if I can’t get her back?”

You find yourself burying your head in the crook of Hyunjin’s neck, his arms wrapping tightly around you, holding you close as if he could contain your sadness, preventing it from seeping from your soul and reaching your mother, wherever she may be.

You haven’t allowed anyone to hold you like this in two years, denying yourself any comfort until you could bring your mother’s killer to justice. It was a promise you made to yourself after San drunkenly ran her over and fled the scene, leaving you alone to hug her cold body in that sterile hospital room.

“It drove me crazy,” you sob, your words broken and incoherent. “He bribed everyone—the doctors, the paramedics, the stores nearby. Everyone acted like my mom didn’t d-die because of h-him,” you hiccup, and Hyunjin only holds you tighter, closer, enough to stitch your wounds with time, only if he remains this close to you. If he wishes to, if you allow him to.

“But now he’s behind bars, and I still don’t have my mom. What do I do now that I can’t bury myself in revenge? Hyunjin, what should I do when I miss her so much and I can’t see her?”

Five hours later.

“The article is perfect, no corrections needed,” Chris says, removing his glasses and looking at you with approval. “Excellent work, Yn.” 

“Thank you,” you nod, feeling a mix of relief, but mostly exhaustion. “I stayed up all night working on it.” 

“Goid, it’s only 6 a.m. so we know that no other media outlet has touched this yet. Our article will be the one to shape public opinion. This is a big win for us. It’s a thorough investigation, and I’m confident you’ll get the recognition you deserve,” he writes something down onto his notebook before looking at you once more. “Take a few days off—you’ve earned it. I’ll reach out if anything urgent comes up.”

“Thank you, sir.” You bow slightly before turning to leave the suffocating office. Or maybe it’s your own mind that’s suffocating you. You don’t have time to dwell on the question before Chris speaks again. 

“Oh, Yn?” Chris calls out just as your hand touches the doorknob. “One last thing, did you ever figure out who was behind all those tapes?”

Your grip on the doorknob tightens imperceptibly. “No sir, no clue.” 

One month later. 

It’s a few minutes before the art gallery closes when you walk in. Hyunjin spots you before you see him, your distinctive walk etched in his memory as vividly as if it were only yesterday that he had seen it.

He approaches quietly, stopping behind you as you gaze at the newest addition to his collection.

“Is this us?” you ask, not turning around. Hyunjin’s eyes follow yours to the abstract painting of a couple waltzing in a ballroom, their hands intertwined just like yours were, four Saturdays ago.

“Yes,” he replies softly.

“It seems I left an everlasting impression on you,” you tease, he can hear the smile in your voice without seeing it. 

“You did. You looked beautiful.”

“So did you.”

“I’m glad you came,” he says sincerely. “I missed you.”

“But we only spent a day together,” you giggle quietly, and Hyunjin wishes he could capture your laugh and tuck it away in the veins of his heart.

“Didn’t that day feel like a year, though?” he muses, resting his chin gently on your shoulder. You lean back into him, closing the space between you.

“It did,” you admit before nervously clearing your throat. “Are you free right now? We could grab a drink, if you’d like?”

“Chamomile tea?” he chuckles, and your laughter vibrates through his being.

“No, something stronger this time.”

He hums, hesitating as he despises the words that would stumble out of his mouth. “I have some things to handle tonight. Urgent matters.”

“Ah,” your voice dips slightly, the disappointment clear in your tone. “Well, it’s okay. I’ll see you another time, then,” you say, finally turning to face him. 

He really missed you. 

“Okay. I’ll see you.”

“Okay.”

“Congratulations on your award, by the way,” he says, watching your expression soften, a delicate smile forming on your lips.

“You saw it?”

“I did. I read your piece, too. I’m sure your mom would be proud of you.”

Tears of gratitude well up in your eyes, and you squeeze Hyunjin’s hand tightly as you whisper, “Thank you. Really. Thank you, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin’s words linger in your soul, echoing through your mind for the rest of your day, his voice the only sound that seems to fill the silence within you. That is until three loud knocks resonate through your apartment, just minutes before midnight. 

You open the door to find Hyunjin standing there, a fresh bruise marring his jaw, his knuckles freshly scraped and bloodied.

“Let me guess, you had nowhere else to go?” you joke, trying to regain your composure at the sight of him once more.

“No,” he replies, his tone earnest, “I wanted to come to you.”

Your smile falters at the sincerity in his voice. You can’t quite place what it is about Hyunjin that pulls you toward him, how amidst everything that’s happened in the past month, the most vivid memory is how he held you gently as you cried and cried.

“I forgot something,” he says, pulling a tube of cooling cream from his back pocket and offering it to you. “I meant to give this to you for your bruised wrists.”

He’s a month late, you both know your wrists have long since healed.

“I… yeah,” he sighs before your silence, turning to leave, a light blush tinting his cheeks. But before he can, you drop the tube and grab his hand, spinning him back around.

“I forgot something too,” you say quickly before pressing your lips against his.

You don’t fully understand what draws you to Hyunjin, but you know his lips taste as sweet as cherry chapstick, that his hand around your waist feels like water flowing gently over your skin, warm and encompassing. That his brown eyes remind you of sunlight dancing on autumn leaves, that no one has touched your soul as deeply as he has.

You know you wish to make him feel as human as he makes you.

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

Mockingbird

Synopsis: Charles Leclerc as always been a family man, so it makes perfect sense to everyone when he chooses to adopt a child. Specifically, you.

adopted monegasque daughter reader x charles leclerc

A/N: for this one; charles will adopt y/n when he’s 28, for the most part, the grid will be the same as the 2023, everyone’s just older, and because charles’ relationships are unpredictable, he chooses to adopt and raise y/n mostly on his own.

. okay so

. again, charles has always wanted a family

. small, big, when he’s young, when he’s old

. doesn’t care, just wants a family

. specifically, a child

. but after many not-so serious and semi-serious relationships

. he realizes that he’ll have to wait a few years until he can have one of his own

. unless

. “what if I just adopt a child?”

. “I won’t have to wait any longer, I can just have one and raise them on my own terms”

. charles decides he likes this idea very much

. so he thinks it over and talks about it with his own family

. then after many conversations with his mother

. he visits a few adoption centers

. talks to a lot of social workers and child protective service workers

. finds one wide-eyed, adorable, 3 year old girl

. and falls absolutely in love

. the directors of the adoption center tell him all about you

. your birth parents, your story, your situation

. his heart was set

. the adoption process takes a few months

. so charles take that time to get ready for you

. but nothing could prepare him for the day the adoption agency called and told him you were his

. he swears it was the best day of his life

. he was beaming the entire drive to the adoption center with pascale

. had tears in his eyes when he finally got to hold you in his arms

. so then

. charles leclerc is a father

. the first two years of living with charles was definitely an experience

. you don’t remember much but he tells you how chaotic ages 3-5 were

. about how he basically lived with his mother in his childhood home for those years so she could help him take care of her granddaughter

. how much he loved getting to know you

. finding your favorite foods, toys, shows, ect

. how he loved teaching you his languages

. (he raises you in french, italian, and english, particularly in that order)

. how he cried when he dropped you off for day care and kindergarten the first time

. how he loved helping you know him

. like playing songs on his piano for you

. teaching you how to play different sports

. or watching old formula 1 races together

. speaking of formula 1

. you were raised racing

. charles bought you your first kart when you were six

. brought you to your first f1 race when you were five

. actually, charles had a love-hate relationship with bringing you to races with him during the early years of having you

. because on one hand

. there’s thousands of cameras around during a race weekend, and charles doesn’t want you televised 24/7

. and there’s also hundreds of people around him while he’s in the paddock, and he wants none of them near you

. it’s also hard to give you his full attention during race weekends

. which is something he always wants to do

. so he’s against the idea at first

. but on the other hand

. he can’t bear being apart from you for a few hours, nonetheless a few days or sometimes weeks

. and he knows you don’t really understand what’s going on, only that your dad puts on a red suit and drives a very fast car for a hour and half

. but he loves coming back to the garage to see you sitting with andrea, clad in ferrari merch and big headphones with a happy grin on your face

. it cheers him up no matter what happened on track

. and he knows he has lots of people willing to look out for you while he’s busy

. because you instantly became beloved by the grid the moment charles walked in with you in his arms

. who’s carlos sainz and pierre gasly?

. you only know uncle carlo and uncle pear

. uncle lew, uncle max, the list goes on

. although charles never lets you out of the ferrari garage

. his closest friends come in and visit you often

. sometimes because your dad asked, sometimes just because they want to

. also, speaking of max

. you met penelope during the winter break when you were five

. and even though she’s three years older than you

. she instantly became like your older sister

. and suddenly charles and max hang out a lot more often for the sake of their daughters

. anyway, the early years of living with charles were still chaotic, but he says that those years contain some of his favorite memories

. he loved watching you grow up

. sending you to primary school

. watching you kart on the same track he drove on when he was your age

. spending many afternoons at his mother’s house with his brothers

. (arthur and lorenzo are the best uncles by the way)

. watching you discover your own passions, whether that be racing or not

. traveling around the world with you, both to race and to explore

. watching you become independent, speaking up for yourself and what you believe in

. it all goes by very fast for charles

. and suddenly you’re a teenager

. by now charles is close to/about to retire

. so you don’t spend that much time in the paddock as a teenager

. but the times that you do are very fun

. instead of staying in charles’s team garage, you explore the paddock with penelope, who’s still an older sister to you

. you befriend all the newer drivers

. and hang out with whichever drivers are left from the grid when you first got adopted

. however, the drivers that charles has been friends with and have retired by now

. lewis, daniel, carlos, pierre, max, george, alex, lando

. you’ve formed your own big family with them and their kids

. because almost all of you live in monaco, you see each other often

. you guys go on vacations together when you don’t have school

. holidays on private beaches and expensive yachts

. or at booked-out ski resorts and mountain lodges

. you and penelope are the oldest, and are mostly in charge of looking after the youngest kids

. but you don’t mind, you love them

. it’s your own little f1 community

. but this is barely the beginning of having charles as a father

. he loves embarrassing you, for one

. at first glance, it might seem cool to have your dad come pick you up from school in a ferrari

. until he gets out in strangely pattered pants and a shirt that will never match

. “papa, do you not have anything else in your closet?”

. “what do you mean? you don’t like?”

. he says it keeps you humble

. you say he should just stay in the car next time

. charles does make sure you’re humble and grateful for everything you have

. but he doesn’t help by spoiling you to death

. you like something from the new gucci collection? it’s yours

. new dior bracelet you said is pretty? your birthday gift

. you think aruba looks nice? where do you think you two spend your next summer vacation

. “papa, when I said I wanted a break from school, I didn’t mean in italy”

. “but mon petit soleil, you are relaxed now, non? you’ll be back by monday, don’t worry”

. whether it be italy or not, wherever you go, charles tries to keep you as safe as possible

. he’s always been cautious of fans and paparazzi around you, no matter how old you are

. making sure you’re holding on to him when a crowd comes out from no where and gets too close for comfort

. keeping you by his side when there’s paparazzi around

. and doing whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe and happy at home/school/in the paddock

. anyway

. I could go on and on about being charles’ daughter

. but the point is that he loves you

. you’re y/n jules leclerc

. his petit soleil

. he couldn’t imagine his life without you

[mechaknight-98]

Holy Grail 1

Authors note: the poll fic is coming along with a few other ideas I’ve been churning out. In the meantime here is a SFW stitching together of last week’s fics with some extra story at the end

“Picture this: it's the final round of Core-A’s Tatsunoko VS Capcom blast from the past tournament and my friend Bonsai is facing off against a new challenger whose gamer tag is Mothra. (she also happens to be his girlfriend Olivia Hye, but more on that later) The set is tied between Bonsai and her. She's been wrecking His team of Frank West and Tekkaman so to throw her for a curveball He goes Polymer and Morrigan. Mothra is confused “No one plays Polymer,” she says perplexed at Bonsai's choice, but Bonsai smiles at his opponent, and says confidently "I do," being a strong competitive player Bonsai easily beats Mothra with his unique team.”

Our friends clap happily as I recount the tournament story for those who weren't present; Jacob, Haseul, Arin, Nagyung, and Tobi. Olivia Hye (Mothra) was less than happy with my recounting of events.

“Yeah, I don't know why you're so cocky; you came in third,” Olivia rolled her eyes, her skepticism evident.

I narrowed my eyes at her before asserting, “Yeah because I only lost to Bonsai. I beat everyone else I played against, and I would have beaten you,” I said, laughing, knowing that despite my boisterous and arrogant antics, I often backed it up with skill.

Bonsai knew I put in more hours into the game than he did. I was constantly in the training lab, mastering characters, but he still bested me because he was the better player. Bonsai also knew If I hadn't pushed him to learn more characters, including Polymer and Morrigan. Plus my strategic input, proved invaluable against high-tier players due to their unpredictability. he would have not won today's tournament

Olivia remained unconvinced. “Oh, come on, Bonsai beat you in three rounds with one flawless win,” she retorted.

Sensing an opportunity to dismantle her argument, I was ready to point out flaws in her playstyle and offer ways to improve, but Bonsai, defending his girlfriend from my unwanted critiques, intervened, “Sorry, Liv, but Daizo would level you. I only beat him because I know how he approaches the game and his patterns.”

Hyeju laughed, “Please, and like I couldn't! We all play together every Thursday, and he always comes in under us.” Bonsai and I exchanged knowing glances, and I decided to drive the point home.

Raising an eyebrow, I struck the killing blow, “Um, Olivia, what two characters are my mains in TVC?”

Olivia shrugged, “Um, Karas and Chun Li?”

I looked at Bonsai as he broke the news to his girlfriend, sighing as he explained, “Hye, he hates playing Chun Li and Karas. He only does it to you because I ask him to.”

Olivia was flabbergasted, “Why?” she asked.

Bonsai knew he had to broach this carefully. “Well, did you see his last match?”

Olivia shook her head. “No, all I heard from that was screaming while I got us lunch.”

Bonsai sighed, elaborating, “Babe, he zero to deathed his opponent after reading their first assist correctly, and he only started playing Joe the Condor today.”

Olivia looked at him, then at me, confused, as did the rest of the group.

“You just learned Joe today?” Arin inquired, struck with bewilderment.

I nodded, prompting Jacob to ask a very legitimate question, “Wait, why risk that at a paid tournament? That seems out of your win-at-any-cost mentality.”

I shrugged before answering, “Because as soon as I was in the same bracket side as Bon, I was getting third place no matter what, so why not see how far I could push my limits?”

Olivia looked at me with disgust, “How arrogant of you to think you can just waltz in and win a tournament on whim picks.”

I laughed and responded, “Liv, we had to give you an advanced tech crash course when you told us you wanted to participate on a whim, despite only playing occasionally with us. I don't want to hear about me doing anything competition-wise on a whim. I am always competition-ready.” This made Olivia go quiet.

Arin, bless her heart, sensed the tension and grabbed my hand. Her touch, as always, was a soothing wave cooling off the plasmidic heat that I felt burn in the Vacuous Core where normal emotional reactions should be.

It worked until Olivia's hurt ego resurfaced, and she said,

“Okay, then Daizo, if you're so great, how about a friendly exhibition match?” I heard Arin sigh, and I knew that either I or Olivia was going to receive a lecture later. But honestly, she already blooded the water by doubting me and further pushed me with an official challenge. So when we got to Bon and Liv's place, I was nearly delirious with anticipation.

I beat Liv 25-1. We could have stopped at 13-0, but the part of me that my friends don't like demanded I beat her more. Thankfully, before I could make Liv cry, Arin and Bonsai stopped me.

“Okay, Disaster, that's enough. You have proved your supremacy, and I don't think Hye can take anymore,” Bonsai's sad tone reached me, and I came out of that dark place.

Arin and I went back to our shared apartment, leaving Bonsai to comfort the almost in-tears and shocked Olivia on their shared couch. He cuddled next to his girlfriend, who was a little grumpy that I beat her...repeatedly

“I can't believe Daizo’s so mean,” she said with an adorable pout. You smiled and nestled closer.

“Come on, babe, you went after him and triggered one of his "episodes". Be glad we stopped it before you went 1-29,” Bonsai said.

Olivia was just revving up, though, “It's just…(He shut her up with an impassioned kiss) uh, babe, no fair.” Bonsai spent the rest of the night consoling his girlfriend's hurt feelings.

A couple of days after what I guess you could call my "bullying" of Hyeju, our little friend group met up again, as we had planned. Arin and I ended up being late due to circumstances beyond our control—a rainstorm that felt almost biblical in its intensity. Arin laughed as we finally entered her car.

"You know, this reminds me of the time we fell for each other," Arin reminisced.

"Yeah, it was a cloudy morning like this," I responded.

"Cloudy? It was pouring," Arin corrected.

I raised an eyebrow. "Huh, oh, I guess that day has such a weird recollection in my head."

"Yeah, me too, but I distinctly remember the rain and seeing how soaked Jacob and you were," Arin replied. "To think we were at each other's throats, and in a split second, we were making out on the floor."

"Yeah, love is weird," I said.

Jacob was grinning ear to ear as we walked to his car. "We're going to this party—there will be girls, grub, and, best of all, games," he said excitedly. I nodded as I got in the car with him. The synthetic smell of maple and brown sugar bombarded me uncomfortably.

"Dude, do you have to have the most obnoxious air freshener?" I teased.

Jacob laughed before saying, "Oh, so you insult my taste, huh? Well, what if I were to tell you that shirt is terrible?" He teased back.

I smiled and responded, "Nope, you can't hurt me. I'm too excited—I've been watching them for so long, so finally going to see Core-A in person seems sick."

"Me too," he said as he started his car. 

When he went to shift gears he gave a weird look and then said something odd, "Oh, one thing—don't be mad," he said.

I raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Arin is going to be there," Jacob responded, and I died a little inside.

I groaned. "Is it too late for me not to go?"

"Dude, she's a 5'5'' girl. You'll be fine, Mr. Legendary Spell Fencer," Jacob reassured me. I scratched my hair nervously, thinking about possible outs.

"I don't know, the last time we met, we yelled at each other for two hours," I said.

"I remember—you guys sounded like an old married couple... Maybe that's it. Maybe you two like each other, but your minds misattribute the attraction with spite. Maybe the two of you just need to kiss, and the wires will be crossed correctly," Jacob suggested as he drove off, sealing my fate.

I rolled my eyes and confidently explained, "There is no way."

Jacob hesitated as if remembering something. "Well, remember how the first time you guys fought, afterward you were all hot and bothered thinking about her for two weeks? It was also weird because you would say all these nice things about her like 'How could someone so compassionate and smart be so damn pig-headed and boorish? I hate that vexing bitch.' You know, weirdly flirty stuff," Jacob said teasingly. I looked at him with an "Are you serious?" look. He laughed, of course. 

"Hey, it's just a theory," he finished.

After that, for the most part, we rode in silence until we reached Core-A's studio and the location of the party. We got out of Jacob's baby blue VW Beetle, which he lovingly referred to as the "Love Bug" (which I believe is copyrighted, but I could be wrong). We walked into the purple venue, though the atmosphere breathed competition without the sweaty smell. The air was chilled to a comfortable level as we filed in along with a few others.

"Ah, Jac, glad you could make it," a tall Korean man said as he approached us. He hugged Jacob, who smiled, and then the man sized me up. 

"You must be Daizohan?" the Korean man asked.

I nodded affirmatively. "I am."

He extended his hand and introduced himself, "Nice to meet you. My name is Gerald Lee."

I couldn't help but grin widely. "I know who you are. I'm a huge fan. I've watched all your channel's videos and loved what you have done, not only for the fighting game community but for competitive communities everywhere," I raved.

Gerald Lee smiled, then said, "Please, then enjoy yourself, make friends, eat, and have fun. I only ask that you be respectful. Some pretty public figures are roaming about who would like their privacy," I nodded in agreement.

"Sure thing, sir," I replied, to which he chuckled before walking away.

Jacob nudged me, pointing out, "Dude, I've never seen you smile that big."

I squinted at him, annoyed. "Jacob, that's one of my heroes."

Jacob laughed at my expense, "I can tell. Now, don't get too excited, but I think they have your favorite over there." I turned to see the familiar loading screen and couldn't contain my excitement. I lifted my hand in anticipation and walked over to the TV. It was exactly what I had hoped for: Tatsunoko VS Capcom. I sat down, feeling nostalgic as I hadn't played the game since childhood. Despite its age and my lack of recent practice, I was instantly transported back to the date of its release, a ten-year-old rediscovering his first fighting game and embarking on a decades-long love affair. I was engrossed in the game when I heard a voice asking,

"Hey, can I play with you?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. Let me just quit this arcade match," I said as I exited my current run-through of the mode.

"I'm surprised you've been so invested; you haven't moved once since sitting here," the voice remarked.

"Well, this is my second favorite game of all time," I explained.

I noticed the voice sitting next to me, intrigued. "Oh, what's the first?"

"Kingdom Hearts II," I replied.

"Oh, I hear a lot about how complicated those games are," the voice said.

I smiled, replying, "Well, they're usually less complicated than life, to be honest." The voice laughed, causing me to smile. It was feminine and pleasant, making me feel like I was at a calming beach.

"This is my first time playing this one, so I don't know how to play. Can you teach me?" the voice asked. I nodded and turned to face her, handing her the controller. Our hands touched, and then our eyes locked, sending my emotions into warp drive.

"Arin?"

"Daizo?"

Arin and I looked at each other with equally confused expressions before she abruptly stood up and said, "Bathroom. Now." I followed her, hoping to avoid a scene. Thankfully, no one saw us enter the furthest one from the party.

Arin and I silently glared at each other until she spoke first, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Um, I was invited by Jacob," I replied.

I watched as Arin rolled her eyes, “Yeah, of course he'd invite you. God, I hate you cameramen sometimes.”

Unaware of the growing feelings within, I gave her the response she wanted, “Damn it, why are you always so mean? Like, what did I do to you?”

Arin rolled her eyes and teased, “You? Please. I'm sorry, but why would I ever be friends with such an attention whore? Did mommy and daddy never give you enough as a child?”

Seeing where this conversation was going, I decided to do something more interesting. I decided to play into her analysis.

“Actually, yes. My parents were consumed with work much of my childhood and had a rigid structure that maintained my physical safety but preyed upon my social and emotional safety as a special needs child, leading to severely stunted emotional and social growth but excellent physical and cognitive growth. This manifested as childhood chasing and severe attention-seeking behaviors. Thankfully, I'm risk-averse enough to have that rein me in from being an absolute menace. Also, if I am attention-seeking, so are you, as often you join me happily in that, as seen by the show we put on for Nagyung’s birthday where we argued for three hours.”

Arin stood there stunned. I watched as she tried to form a response until I got bored and walked away. She grabbed me and said, “Wait, Daizohan (she was using my full name, so I knew she was serious). I am sorry, I didn't know.”

I gave her a kind smile and replied, “It's all good. I also didn't realize until just now when you were talking about it.”

Arin smiled, and that same feeling of a wave washing over me crept up. “Well, now that you know, I expect better from you,” I nodded, and we walked back to Tatsunoko vs. Capcom. While walking, I noticed how pretty Arin was. Like, she was distractingly pretty.

As we walked back, that distraction caused me to walk into a metal pole. Obviously, I fell, but Arin was quick to pick me up and begin scolding me about “staying aware.”

As Arin spoke and droned on and on, my body sent a shiver down my spine before sending a weird impulse to my brain.

“Arin’s stern scolding is kinda of hot; she makes a great and nurturing mother. I should make her a mother,” my brain told me, and I jolted. Arin noticed, and for a moment, the animosity in her eyes dissipated, and I saw something I wasn't expecting: genuine concern.

Arin’s features softened from a disgusted grimace to concerned caution as she said, “Are you okay? You just jumped!” I nodded, standing there dumbfounded. “Good,” she continued, “Hey, don't scare me like that, Daizo.”

In an instant, all that animosity turned into this overwhelming desire to kiss her. Before I knew it, all I could think about besides how pretty her eyes were with her cute glasses was how to go about kissing her. So, I did. At first, it was awkward as Arin was combating similar competing feelings of infatuation and infuriation. After a few seconds though, she joined me in choosing to be infatuated. We broke the kiss and Arin smiled at me and said, “What?”

“Oh nothing just remembering our first time together Arin smiles as we get in her car and drive to Nagyung and Jacob’s place.

While Arin and I were on our way to the meetup, she asked me what I thought Jacob would like for his upcoming birthday.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I already got his drinks, food, and presents handled," I reassured her.

"Good, I know when you're on top of things, you overachieve. I just need to remind you," Arin said, relieved.

"Oh, you never have to remind me of friends. I always show up for them when I can," I replied, which made Arin laugh.

“Hey babe, can I ask you something?” Jacob walked into the living room.

“Sure, what is it, Naggy?”

"Why did you invite Arin and Daizo? They're so gross," Nagyung whined.

Jacob chuckled before replying, "Daizo and Arin are my friends, and while they may be 'gross,' they are good company."

Nagyung sighed, annoyed. "But Jakey, they are obsessed with... that, what did you call it?"

Jacob raised an eyebrow. "The Holy Grail or fighting games?"

"The Holy Grail," Nagyung confirmed.

"Oh, well, yeah. Everyone needs friends who chase the Holy Grail. They show you where you're lacking," Jacob replied.

"What?" Nagyung responded, confused.

"Chasing the Holy Grail means chasing the impossible. Both Arin and Daizo have impossibly large goals, which is probably why they work so well together. But I digress. They are chasing impossible goals for different reasons. For Daizo, it's to see how far he can take himself in this world, and for Arin, it's to prove herself," Jacob explained. Nagyung nodded and then replied,

"But why can't they be satisfied with what they have? They're successful and have a great love life and careers. What more could they want?"

Jacob shrugged as he replied.

About 65 minutes later the couple finishing up cooking lunch.

"Wow, you guys finally made it?" Nagyung said smiling. I gave a thumbs up and Bonsai explained how traffic was terrible for some weird reason.

Arin perked up, "It's mostly because of the rain and the impromptu K-pop festival going on in Hongdae."

"Wait really? (Bonsai turns to Haseul) Why wasn't the best group ARTMS invited," Bonsai said 

exaggeratedly. Haseul blushed and smiled as Arin and I both suppressed the urge to say "What are you talking about the best is obviously Oh My Girl,"

Bonsai noted our restraint and smiled, "You know it shows that there are still tickets and they're pretty cheap,"  

Arin and I looked at each other before we both said "So it's settled We are all going," The group nodded excitedly as we got up and began prepping for the Concert. We all ordered Tickets and then walked to the venue. On the way, Arin grabbed my hand, "What's up?" 

"Nothing just showing everyone who you belong to," She said with a possessive smile,

"Are you jealous?"

"No, I am not the Jealous type but what's mine is mine end of story," Arin said smiling. I smiled back before kissing her forehead.

"Blegh. You guys are so gross," Hyeju says as she notices we haven't moved for a bit. Arin rolls her eyes before grabbing my hand and having us catch up to the others.

We arrived at the festival and its insanely lively fantastic atmosphere despite the gloomy weather. Plenty of Alcohol for everyone except Arin, plus me, and several acts we were more than excited to see. We decided to start with H1-Key as they were the next act. (We probably should have gotten food in hindsight but it's not that big a deal.) As H1-Key performed many of their hits Arin and I danced to music, as did our friends (At one point Nagyung was twerking on Jacob which was always hilarious). when the weather dropped to a colder temperature we moved less to conserve heat but still sang along. Arin nestled herself in my jacket to stay warm due to our size difference. After that act, We decided to get food and stopped by the nearby Ramyeon place. We all congregated around a pretty big table which allowed us to stay near our partners but also be in decent positions to talk to everyone.

Arin put her hand in mine as we watched our friends. "So Daizo how much longer are you here for?" Haseul asked.

I looked to Tobi for confirmation he held up the number three letting me know I had three weeks left

"Oh three weeks left," I answered. Subtly I noticed Arin tightening her grip on me. I turn to her and clarify, "I will be back though,"

"Oh, when," Nagyung asked.

"Uh probably in the second half of the year, around September," I replied.  

Arin‘s grip softened, and I looked at her before saying, “Don't worry I'll be back,”

After we finished we went back to the festival and enjoyed the rest of the acts.

We got back from the impromptu festival around midnight I want to say, and on the way back to Jacob's place we were stopped by a lady, She stood at the precipe of a crosswalk. She is holding a massive sword and she says,

"If one of you can land a hit on me; I will give you a massive prize." My friends all look at each other and then at me to stop me but I'm already walking to the lady.

“So I just gotta land one hit?” I ask

“Yes,” the lady responds

“Any other rules? Stipulations?” I add

“Nope give it all you got,” the lady says with a pleased smile.

“Okay! Let's do it.” I reply. Arin grabs my hand and says

“Go get em,” I smile and reply

“God I love you,” Arin beams and I turn to the lady. I summon my spell sword and get in a combat-ready stance. The lady smiles before taking out a needle and syringe. She injects herself and I watch as her eyes begin to glow. I stand guard as she also gets ready. I blink and in an instant, she is at my throat. I block her blade and disarm her by throwing both our blades away.

Taking advantage of her staggered and uneven stance I grapple her and throw her to the ground. As she lands I get one quick strike to her arm. She smiles,

“A thief with honor.” the lady says as I help her up. I notice her skin is a magenta color and she only has one eye. She smiles at me before saying, “Congratulations,” and everything goes dark.

When I wake up I am on a floor mat with Arin sitting above me. I sit up and Arin Jolts.

"Where am I," I ask.

"Babe relax," Arin says hearing my heart race

"Okay," I say as she has me slow my breathing.

"There has been a bad situation,"

"What is it?" I ask

"Look," Arin says sadly

I look at what she has gestured at and see my home planet shattered and exploded. I breathe in and out slowly processing what I am seeing, I turn to Arin and she grabs me tightly before saying, "It will be okay Daizo."

I had only one question on my mind, "who did this?"

[hells-wasabii]

Oh I have an idea! What about Velvette’s girlfriend meeting the other Vees for the first time?

A/N: I'm baaaack. Sorry for the sudden hiatus everybody, life got crazy and I just haven't had the time to write like i did when I started. Hopefully that'll change soon cuz there's still like 90 reqs in my inbox that I plan on writing. If I manage to get back down to a more reasonable number I may reopen reqs. but for now, here's some Velvette. A fair warning, though, I personally feel that this one is a little dialogue heavy, but hopefully yall enjoy it nonetheless

Character: Velvette

Type: Drabble (Velvette x fem!reader introducing gf to the Vee's, Fluff)

The initial pleasantries were out of the way, introductions and the like. It had gone well enough, you supposed, at least that part was over with. As bad as it sounded, you were thankful. Maybe you might actually survive the night after all.

“You know, darling, you’re quite the looker, have you ever considered a career in the film industry?” You shift your weight from one foot to the other, chuckling nervously before the overlords, because what the hell were you supposed to say to that? What the hell have you gotten yourself into? 

Velvette, who stood to your right, shot Valentino a sharp glare. A warning. There sure had been plenty of those tonight already, hadn’t there? The first of the night had been your own.

The influencer had told you what to expect before you had even set foot in Vee Tower. When your girlfriend had invited you to meet the rest of the Vee’s you had initially been unsure. Yeah, you knew Velvette already, the self-proclaimed backbone, the other two surely couldn’t be that, bad right?

“So…” Vox started, a serious expression settling upon his screen as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What are your intentions with our dear Velvette?”

Okay, so that’s where the night was going. Great. Maybe you’d been wrong, but all things considered, it genuinely felt as if you were meeting her parents. They had been surprisingly casual so far, but the trio of overlords had a reputation for being unpredictable, so that could really change at any minute, you realized. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you sputtered in response. Shit, you’d expected the other two overlords to be intimidating, but definitely not like this.

Velvette was quick to respond, slamming a not-so-subtle heel into his foot. The video star let out a yelp, electricity crackling around his screen as he glitched before pulling his leg away as though to defend it from further assault. 

The Vee’s truly were something else, you decided as the tall moth demon continued with another playful gibe.

“Oh no, Voxy, if anything we should be more worried about Velv’s little girlfriend here.” Valentino grinned as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, you inhaled sharply as you were pulled closer. “Is she treating you well, doll?”

“Of course she is.” You couldn’t help it, really. The words rolled off your tongue before you could think better of it. Velvette raised an eyebrow as a lazy smirk Oh there was no doubt in your mind that the influencer would tease you endlessly later.  The way that Velvette flashed you a lazy smirk made your stomach do a little flip. With flushed cheeks, you cleared your throat while the television demon across from you barked out a laugh.

“You can relax, we’re not gonna bite. Why don’t we sit down and you tell us about yourself?” Vox began, though a smirk overtook his welcoming smile as he went on to tease the youngest overlord further. “We’ve already heard so much from Velvette, but I’d much rather hear about you without all the mushy shit.” 

“Oh for fucks sake, what happened to actually behaving yourselves tonight?” the influencer groaned, though there was no real venom to her words. This prompted another chuckle from the other overlords, you even found yourself stifling a laugh.

“Oh my dear we are behaving.” Though the grin on Valentino’s smug face suggested otherwise. You watched as the three continued going back and forth as you were led to a lounge Despite her protests, Velvette was clearly at ease. This was going to be an interesting night, you thought as a fond smile took to your lips.

[darknight3904]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖆𝖈𝖊

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴏᴄ! ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ /ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Longest chapter so far 2.8k :)

132 AC

The moon had disappeared behind a cloud. Her room was darker than ever as Rhaella tossed and turned beneath her covers. She had bid Rhaenrya's family farewell only half a day ago and was to depart for Highgarden in the morning. Yet, she could not find sleep. Perhaps it was her conversation with Lucerys and Jace in the library the other day. Or how Aemond seemed so hellbent on revenge for something that happened a lifetime ago. All she knew was that sleep was evading her.

The padding of footsteps and the clanking of armor passing filled her ears. The light of a torch reached it's way across her chamber from the crack under the door. Something was happening while the castle slept...Or perhaps the guards were catching Aegon slinking about, no doubt returning drunk from his ventures in Flea Bottom.

As she lay there amongst feather-stuffed pillows and silken sheets, she thought of Aemond. How he had angrily marched her back to her chamber muttering a goodnight before disappearing down the steps. He had been so distant and cold lately. Rhaella thought it might lessen once Jace and Luke were finally gone from Kings Landing but after their litter left the yard, he had turned on his heel and disappeared into the castle with nothing but a murmur on his lips.

Perhaps it was all for the best. She was going to be married before the next moon, she shouldn't remain hung up on a childhood friend. Truly, leaving whatever they had in the past was what was best for all. For herself, for Aemond, for Lord Tyrell's son whom she had yet to meet.

That being said, she couldn't help but want him. His presence, the way he smelled slightly of citrus from whatever soap he used for his baths. Before she left she was determined to see him again, the way she wanted to, not however he wanted to portray himself to her. The gloomy solitary self Aemond had painted would not be what she would remember for the rest of her days with her husband.

The stones of the castle floor were cool on her feet as she slipped into a simple pair of slippers. Perhaps Aemond would still be awake at this hour.

In her haste, she quickly zipped down the hall, only to be stopped by a whisper of her name. Aemond? Was he lurking somewhere?

"Rhaella!"

She turned to her right where Maester Edric's door greeted her.

Seven Hells, the old man was going to be the death of her.

"Yes?" She greeted, pushing his door open. She felt like she was a child again, being scolded for not wanting vegetables at dinner.

"Where are you off to now?" He asked from his bed

Maester Edric's age was catching up to him, a fact Rhaella hated. He had become immobile four moons ago and his eyes had begun to go as well. Rhaella hated that it meant he'd most likely die soon. He was too weak to travel with her to Highgarden and she feared he might die before she was able to visit again.

"Just because I cannot walk does not mean my ears are not sharp." He said

"How did you know it was me?" Rhaella asked, sitting at his side

"I only know one person who dashes about the halls like that at night. You've done it since you were a little girl. Crawling into my bed claiming a White Walker was beneath your bed or hiding in your wardrobe." He laughed

"White Walkers aren't real." Rhaella laughed

"You never know." He smiled, "Now tell me, where are you off to tonight?"

"I want to visit Aemond. He has been...troublesome recently." Rhaella said

"You spend too much time thinking of him," Edric said, waving his hand in dismissal.

"He is important to me." Rhaella sighed

"He is young. Aemond is unpredictable." Edric sighed, "Better you turn your sights on something more stable."

"Let me guess? The Tyrell I'm set to marry?" Rhaella groaned not wanting to hear anymore of him, it was all Queen Alicent talked about around her.

"I was going to suggest Sōna." He laughed, "But the Tyrells work as well."

"What about Sōna?" Rhaella asked

"You're a dragon rider. You ought to train with your dragon. The best Targaryens have always had a strong bond with their dragons. Your father is an example of it." Edric said

"My father is hardly a great Targaryen." Rhaella laughed

"Perhaps he is not a good person...But no one can deny his fierceness. He is a warrior, his bond with his dragon is one of the strongest I have ever seen." Edric smiled

Rhaella shook her head even though Edric couldn't see her. She hated it, but he was right. Daemon had always had a magnificent bond with Caraxes.

"A bond like that takes years." Rhaella sighs

"You better start soon then." Maester Edric encouraged

A loud cough interrupted whatever was going to leave his lips next. Rhaella immediately reached for the cup of water that was kept on his bedside table. She slowly tipped it back and helped him drink.

"I'll let you rest." She said, started for the door.

"Are you going back to your room?" Edric asked, "Sleep is important."

"You know me...always dashing through the halls," Rhaella said

Edric lets out an amused laugh and wipes at his face where the water trickled down the sides of his face.

"Wherever you go, be safe." He encouraged

Rhaella gently shut the door behind her, hoping the old man on the other side would truly sleep the way she wanted him to. She thought of what she originally set out to do. Aemond. He was just a few halls and a flight of steps away from her. Perhaps he'd see her, maybe he wouldn't.

"Better you turn your sights on something more stable."

Her dragon riding clothes were a bit smelly. She made a mental note to hand them off to her handmaiden tomorrow morning. The horse she had stolen away from the stables snorted loudly as she tied him off in the small stable outside the pit.

"Hush. You're alright." She soothed pulling a ripe apple from her pocket and feeding it to him

Sōna bellowed, most likely in confusion, as the keepers brought her out. Rhaella must've woken her up. Her dragon was on the lazy side, much like her mother. She had heard tales from Dragonstone that Silverwing often slept the days away.

"Lady Rhaella, are you sure you wish to fly? It is late." The keeper said, rubbing sleep from his eyes

"Yes. I will be back before dawn, do not worry." Rhaella said, reaching to climb on her dragon

"Sōvēs!"

The way the cold air whipped at her face would never grow old. Rhaella took a deep breath of the fresh air among the clouds. Here, the stench of the city couldn't reach her nose.

Sōna let out a loud trill as they flew over the Kings Wood. Rhaella looked around. What could she possibly see this late at night? A stag running through the trees? Dragons were constantly hungry...

Instead of a possible snack for her dragon, Rhaella was met with another loud bellow. However instead of Sōna making it, she looked down to see Vhagar looking up at them from a large clearing.

What the hell were they doing out here?

Rhaella's feet crunched over the dried leaves and sticks as she walked through the woods. The moon was doing a good job of providing light but Rhaella was still stumbling every few steps. Sōna let out a churn everytime she nearly lost her footing. The dragon was more nervous than Rhaella was.

"Aemond?" She called as she reached the shore of the lake where Aemond taught her to swim so many years ago

The chirps of bugs and the hoot of an owl responded. Perhaps he was not here. Could it be that Vhagar was just resting here? Perhaps Aemond was back at the castle now sleeping the night away the way Rhaella was supposed to be.

"Looks like he's not here, girl." Rhaella said turning to Sōna who looked back at her, expressionless.

The loud crashing of bushes being trampled through had Rhaella's head snapping to the right. Sōna let out a deep growl beside her, the dragon's mouth opened, her long teeth gleaming in the moonlight.

"Seven fucking hells!"

Rhaella's eyes widened when Aemond crashed through the shrubs.

"Rhaella?" He asked looking at her

Rhaella glanced over at Sōna who was already looking at her with interest. Neither of them was expecting this...

"Aemond...what are you doing?" Rhaella asked, taking in his appearance. He was disheveled, a few leaves were even stuck in his hair. Oddly enough his hair was free from its usual style, instead it was tucked behind his ears, a few strands falling free and framing his face.

"I could not sleep. I thought a flight and a walk would clear my head." Aemond explained, "I...got lost in thought and wandered off the path."

"So you were lost?" Rhaella asked, a smile pulling at her lips.

"No!" Aemond said defensively

Aemond Targaryen, master swordsman, flyer of Vhagar, prince of the city had been crashing through the woods, lost. Rhaella could feel the laughter welling up in her stomach.

"Sure you were." Rhaella laughed

"I was not." Aemond said

"You're lying," Rhaella said, even Sōna knows it. Rhaella motioned to her dragon who had decided to lie down after realizing Aemond was no threat to her rider.

"Your dragon isn't even awake." Aemond pointed out, "Much less discerning whether I am lying or not."

Sōna let out a loud snort, as if she could tell Aemond was talking about her.

"Why are you out here?" Aemond grumbled, changing the subject.

"Same as you, I could not find sleep," Rhaella explained

"Clearly we need better tactics," Aemond said, sitting down on a large rock

Rhaella laughed at his tone. This was the Aemond she had been missing. His boyish humor and sarcasm were something she had always enjoyed. She quickly closed the distance between them and sat beside him, bumping their shoulders together.

"What are you doing?" He asked

"Sitting next to you. " Rhaella explained

Aemond let out a grunt and kicked at the dirt at their feet.

Silence settled around them as Sōna's deep breaths were the only thing that reached her ears. Rhaella took in Aemond's appearance. She couldn't remember the last time she saw him with his hair down surely, it had been years. Her eyes greedily roamed his frame as she sat next to her, eyes fixed on the lake. He had been bigger than her for years now but Rhaella had never been able to get over how truly board his frame had become. He was nowhere near fat but his thin frame was clearly muscular, his broad shoulders were what truly stood out to Rhaella. Surely if she placed her hands on them, she'd be able to feel the way the muscles beneath his dragon-riding clothes tensed.

"I am sorry." Aemond's soft tone filled her ears, "For ignoring you these past weeks."

She wasn't expecting an apology from Aemond, he never apologized when they were children. Even that one time when he scared her in the middle of the night and then she walked into a door. Her nose had bled for nearly twenty minutes after that.

"I have...been upset that you are leaving for Highgarden. I guess I thought if I ignored you, the issue would vanish....I see I was wrong though." Aemond sighed, still not meeting her gaze, "And now you are leaving tomorrow and we have no good memories to look back on."

No good memories? What were the past few years then?

"Do the past years not count?" Rhaella asked

"No!" Aemond jumped "They do. I only meant...you're going to fly off tomorrow and all we've done is ignore each other."

Rhaella smiled, no matter how he grew and tried to change, Aemond was, at least with her, still the same boy she had met years ago.

"We can still make a few memories...." Rhaella grinned jumping to her feet, "Come."

Aemond watched wide-eyed as Rhaella began to shed her dragon-riding clothes. What was she doing? Secretly he hoped she didn't stop losing articles of her clothes but he knew that was wrong.

"What are you doing?" He sharply asked, catching her hand as she went to shimmy out of the ornate shirt she was wearing. The faux dragon scales that had been created from fabric glistened on her chest under the moon.

"Remember when you taught me to swim here?" Rhaella asked

"I tried to," Aemond said surveying the area thinking back to the day he plotted to murder a duck for food before Rhaella stopped him. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Tired to." Rhaella smiled, "Let's have another lesson."

Aemond swam out to where Rhaella was already struggling in the water.

"Relax." He said, gently placing his hand on her shoulder.

He tried to ignore the way her chemise was clinging to her in the water. Surely it had been like this last time. Had he just not noticed? How foolish of him, to ignore the way the wet fabric made her look. It was positively sinful.

"I am relaxed." Rhaella defended, a gulp of water invading her mouth.

"You're about to swallow half the lake." Aemond said, "Watch me."

He slowly moved his limbs in unison, hoping she could see the way he was moving. A simple breaststroke surely wasn't too hard for Rhaella and her lack of skill.

Aemond found himself smiling when she swam towards him, copying his movements.

"I'm doing it!" She smiled when she reached him

"Not bad." He said

"Would it kill you to compliment me?" Rhaella groaned beside him, treading water so she remained afloat.

"It would, in fact." Aemond laughed

"You are truly terrible." Rhaella declared, flicking a bit of water onto his face. most of it hit his eyepatch and dripped off into the lake.

"Do you ever take it off?" Rhaella asked

"What?" He asked, pretending to be clueless

"The eye patch. I know you have a sapphire below it but I do not recall ever seeing it." Rhaella said, swimming so close that their noses brushed

"It's not a sight you want to see." Aemond said thinking of the ugly flesh below the leather on his face.

"I'll be the judge of that." Rhaella said

Before he could protest, she reached for his face and pulled it off his face.

"Rhaella!" He gasped reaching for it with his head pointed down.

"Come get it!" Rhaella called swimming off

He never should have taught her how to swim.

Aemond chased her into shallow waters where they both could stand. Rhaella was laughing when he finally got close to her. He let out a curse when she evaded him again. Since when was she so fast? All that fabric from her small clothes should be weighing her down.

He caught her off guard by quickly catching her by the waist. His face heated up even as the cool water lapped at their skin when he felt Rhaella's legs wrap around his waist. Did she truly not realize what she was doing?

"Give it here." He said

"Look at me first." Rhaella said

He reluctantly turned his head. He hoped she wasn't too scared, he was enjoying this proximity, the way her body was pressed to him was driving him mad.

Rhaella examined Aemond's face. The sapphire was gleaming in the moonlight and only seemed to shine brighter in contrast with Aemond's silver hair and milky skin.

"Has anyone ever told you how good-looking you are?" Rhaella asked, in awe of her friend's features.

Aemond scoffed, pulling the eyepatch from her hand and slipping it back on.

"I don't need you to lie to me." He said

"I'm not lying," Rhaella said, placing her hands on those shoulders she had been thinking about earlier. She had been right, you could feel the way the muscles below the skin tensed with each movement.

"We should fly back. Dawn is coming." Aemond said quietly, his face slightly red

"Just...one more minute." Rhaella said, resting her head in the crook of Aemond's neck, "I don't want to leave yet."

Cool water lapped around them as the moonlight faded away. A minute passed, and then two, and then many. Aemond was not sure how long they stayed there, water up to their chins as Rhaella drove him mad with her closeness. All he knew was that he never wanted this moment to end.

Next Part

The dance is looming...Aemond and Rhaella are you ready??? (They are not ready)

Also uh idk what happened but this part posted twice and the second time it posted it only posted half of it?? Tumblr is on something.

Comment below to join the taglist. (The taglist is not by chapter, once added, you will remain there unless you ask to be removed.)

Taglist:

@caspianobsessed

@starryhiraeth

@franzelt

@holymusicalmothman

@koobratzy

@schelfinser

@mizuki80

@flusteredmoonn

@sunmigs

@mizuki80

@dramioneforevertilltheend

@fix5idiots @canpillowscry

@aleemendoza2425-blog

@optimistic-but-very-realistic

@vieenr0se

@minttea07

@void21

@lothiriel9 @saraiadg

@simp-sundae-06 @truly-abysmal @spacexdrago

@rosey1981 @bitchyfestivalbouquet

[archangeldyke-all]

Sevika × Great outdoors lesbian reader

Because Sevika has definitely never laid a hand on a real tree. But that's fine! She can just fall in love with somebody who knows all about trees and nature in general :)

(Maybe they can go hug some together when they're old coots)

this is hilarious

men and minors dni

sevika doesn't like nature.

she's never been one for the outdoors. as a kid, she spent most of her time in her room reading. as an adult, she spends most of her time working. being outside is something that happens to sevika only when she needs to get from one inside setting to another. she'd never choose to just... go outside.

there's bugs outside. and wind. and unpredictable weather, which always ends up with sevika sweating and getting all sticky, or getting caught in the fucking rain and being damp the rest of the day, or freezing her tits off on what was supposed to be a mild spring day.

so, no. sevika's not an outdoors-y person.

but then she meets you.

you guys hit it off instantaneously, sevika's pretty sure she falls head over heels in love with you on your first date. it's pathetic and embarrassing, but she's too enamored to care about how cheesy she is with you.

and then you ask her out on a picnic.

she tries so hard to pretend like she likes nature. she tries to pretend that the sun beaming down on her is pleasant, and not making her hot; like the grass isn't prickly and itchy; like the mosquito and flies swarming your spot aren't bothering her.

and she is having fun, don't get her wrong! she loves seeing you in the sun, she's pretty sure you've got sunshine somewhere inside you. she adores watching you make flower chains, is impressed with how patiently and gently you place a stray beetle crawling on your lap onto a plant, loves listening you babble about various birds that fly overhead, and the type of tree you're sitting under.

but, that doesn't stop her from grumpily shoving her hair out of her face when the wind blows it, or screaming when a spider crawls across her leg.

"sevika." you giggle at the end of your date. you've walked her home, and you're exchanging kisses at her front door.

"mhm?" she asks.

"if you don't like being outside, we don't have to go to the botanical gardens next weekend." you say, referring to the date you guys planned together a few hours ago. "we can go to a restaurant or catch a movie or something."

"but you're so excited for the arbor day celebration! you've been babbling about it since you picked me up!" she says. you giggle.

"yeah, but i don't want you to be miserable on our date."

"i won't be, i promise." she says, kissing your worries away. "i'll be with you-- nothing can make me miserable when i'm with you."

as your relationship progresses, sevika becomes slightly more connected to nature. how could she not, when you're constantly outside in the yard, gardening and watching birds and fucking foraging wild foods-- always rambling sweetly about the plants and animals you see?

this doesn't mean she'd ever choose to go outside. but if you're going, she'll always tag along.

she starts to like nature walks. when she's moving, the bugs can't catch her as fast. plus, she sees a ton of cute dogs on her walks with you-- that's always a plus.

she loves the more scientific side of raising a garden with you. she'll be the one to sprout all your seeds inside on a sunny windowsill, nurturing them until they're big enough to survive outside. she's also the one who'll visit the garden supply store and help you figure out ph-levels in soils, fertilizers, where you should plant each crop to get the proper amount of sun in your yard... she's into the logistics of it all.

she takes care of all the houseplants too-- she's got a little schedule written for herself on a post-it about which plant to water when. it's really cute.

you're most likely to get her to spend a day in the park with you when it's fall.

it's her favorite season. the sun is always hiding behind grey clouds, which means she gets less migraines. the bugs have all gone away for the season, and the coolish weather is the perfect temperature for her. plus, she loves the smell of the dying leaves.

(you know she likes the way the leaves change colors too-- but she'll never say something so romantic and cheesy out loud.)

her favorite outdoor activity, however, is sitting on your screened in back-porch-- a pair of binoculars hanging from her neck, both of you waiting for pretty birds to come visit the various feeders you have scattered around your property. she gets to sit and smoke, she gets to be kinda inside, and she gets to watch the way you grin when you see a bird you've never seen before.

sure, she finds the birds pretty, but she finds your reactions much prettier.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re

@raphaellearp @iamastar @sevikitty

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Hi! What is Rabid bits of time WIP about?

Thats kind of a dark one sjsjsj its for bad things happen bingo sole survivor, where Buck vanishes in the days after the tsunami and takes place a few years later when Athena takes a wellness check call and finds the person a few days dead in their basement from a trip and fall head injury, next to a chained up, severely injured and emaciated Buck... Will be Eddie (and maaaybe Athena pov), lots of flashbacks of like pre disappearance Eddie and Buck working towards something romantic but Eddie not being ready for it and Buck saying he'll wait, buck's disappearance setting off Eddie's season 5 breakdown early, Eddie dating guys but still grieving Buck, and then everyone dealing with Buck suddenly being back and in really rough shape. Bobby is not doing great! He's not been doing great for several years!

Here's some drawings of the second time Chris sees Buck when he comes back (the first time didn't go great because like... Everyone else looks more or less the same but a kid grows up a lot in 2 years so it hits Buck for the first time how long he was stuck down there)

And here's a little snippet

It’s a Thursday, sunny. Weather has been unpredictable this winter but it’s been nice out for a few days now, seems like it’ll hold til the weekend. Shift ended at noon but went over a little, had to deal with a pileup in midtown, so it’s almost one o’clock as Eddie heads out to his truck. Still, he has a few hours before he has to get Chris, school not out until 2:30 and then another hour for science club. They need groceries, and the laundry is starting to pile up, but a nap is maybe too tempting to resist. It had been a long night, lots of calls. The turn in the weather, maybe, more people out and about to get into trouble. He’s making a list in his head of what they need from the store so he can make a quick trip after the nap, before or after he gets Chris depending on how long he sleeps, and is about halfway to his parking spot when a cop car tears into the lot. He didn’t catch the number on it but he supposes he’s not surprised when Athena appears moments later, walking towards him with tension coiled into her every muscle.  “The others still inside?” She calls, barely looking at him long enough to see his nod, not slowing down as she walks towards the station. Her face is grim, jaw set tight, and Eddie thinks it’s entirely unnecessary when she says “Come on, you need to hear this, too.” There’s only one thing this could be about, as impossible as it may be. Eddie follows her inside feeling kind of muffled, like there’s a layer of cotton between him and the rest of the world. Hazy, as Hen comes out of the locker with a frown on her face, as Chimney freezes halfway down the stairs. Athena’s shout for Bobby sounds half as loud as it probably is. Bobby comes out of his office immediately, looking less calm and collected every step closer. They all end up in a little huddle in the middle of the room, other firefighters giving them both a wide berth and curious stares. Hen’s elbow digs into his left arm, Athena is close enough to his right to feel her body warmth. Bobby, wearing that kind of see through look he gets sometimes, scans his wife’s face. “What’s going on?” “We-“ Athena seems choked for words, suddenly, and that more than anything makes this feel real. For her to be scared. Dread bubbles up in the hole in Eddie’s chest that he thought he’d mostly patched up these days. “Bobby. We found him. We found Buck.” Eddie takes a step back, involuntarily. Hen grabs onto his arm, so tight her nails dig in. Chimney makes a strangled sort of noise, hand hovering over his pocket like he wants to go for his phone. Does Maddie know? Eddie is sure he’s thinking it, they’re all thinking it. Who told her? It should be one of them. It shouldn’t be a stranger, not after this long. It should be-  “How?” Bobby asks, the crack in his voice turning it from how did you find him to something more like what condition is the body in? What do we have left to bury?  Because, well, none of them have any delusions about it. Not after this much time. Two years and nearly three months ago Evan Buckley vanished, and not a single trace had ever been found of him. The only thing waiting for them at the end of this is a body.  Except Athena stands there, in the warm air of a pleasant afternoon, and says “We found him alive.”

[mugentakeda]

the weirdest thing about it just being the four of them is how insistent lu ten is about him and azula getting a vote in everything. hes trying really hard to stop feeling weird about it.

at first, zuko was more than okay with just going with whatever mom and lu ten have in mind. theyre the grown ups, after all, and they make a good team. they haven’t been captured, or even chased, so that has to mean something. it never really hit him how well they got along until now that theyre alone. he can’t help but start wondering about how long they knew each other before he was born.

and things between him and azula have been… awkward. he doesnt really know what to do with how well shes been taking this. something her and lu ten both do is that when they think nobody is looking, they get these really tense and faraway looks on their faces.

zuko is pretty sure it has something to do with dad and uncle.

it might be bad of him, but hes not all that upset about being away from dad. hes terrified of what will happen if they get caught, yeah.

but they wouldnt have any kind of fun in this crazy new life if dad was here, would they?

last night, lu ten grilled a bunch of big red fish over a fire, with some steamed bamboo. mom acted out a story for them as entertainment. its something she hasnt done in… well, forever. but she would stop and ask both him and azula what happened next, they both would yell out the possible answers, and mom would pick either or and change the story depending on which she chose to make the ending unpredictable.

its the ease he feels on ember island when just the four of them go, just in a different place. so maybe it’s not as weird as zuko thinks it is.

mom and lu ten decided that leaving was the only way to be happy and have opinions, so they left. the palace rules stopped that, and nobody went along with palace rules more than dad. so he didnt get to come with. mom and ursa aren’t very upset about that, so neither will he.

at the cost of his dad, yeah, and thats traitor talk, but hes alive, isnt he? agni hasnt struck him or everyone else down for being glad dad isn’t here, has she? he’s okay with that and they’re okay with that.

zuko decides as he stares up at the blue sky peaking between the tree tops, that he wont feel bad about wanting to be happy and giving his opinion anymore. and he’s not weird for that if mom and lu ten aren’t weird.

azula is way weirder than everyone that’s weird on the whole earth combined, though. so it might be harder for her to not feel bad about wanting to be happy or giving her opinion. or being happy about things that arent weird, because only the weirdest things make azula happy.

lu ten is better at talking to her than anyone else, but…

he scoots next to her on the rotted log she’s resting on, watching mom comically struggle to help lu ten prepare breakfast.

“do you miss mai and ty lee?” he asks her, forcing himself to sound casual. she hasnt tried to set his butt on fire since they left, but who knows what might change that.

“miss them?” she repeats, but not like shes mocking him for the question- more like she’s asking herself again.

“like, do you wish they were here too?”

his sister makes a face. “why would they be here? this is a family affair.”

“just go with it. for the sake of the question.”

azula rolls her eyes, but hums thoughtfully. trails off.

he tries something else. “do you think mom’s storytelling last night wouldve been better if ty lee was there doing interpretive dance?”

to his surprise, she snorts. “probably,” she replies. “and mai would probably enjoy the macabre of it all. the more drama and bloodshed, the better. you wouldn’t know mother likes all the dark ones just by looking at her.”

azula turns to him, suddenly. there’s something mischievous in her eyes that zuko immediately distrusts. “why are you asking? do you miss mai?”

his face immediately flushes. “no! i was just asking, cus, well…”

“oh, don’t feel the need to explain yourself to me, zuzu. its just the four of us in the middle of nowhere, after all-“

“i was just asking, cus you haven’t seemed… well… sad. about leaving. dad and the palace and stuff. you didn’t even say much when we had to burn our old clothes and wear this green stuff instead.”

azula pauses. she doesn’t quite scowl at him, but she furrows her eyebrows and twists her lips in this weird, thoughtful way. she turns back away from him and sighs.

“cousin lu ten didn’t carry me out of the palace like a little baby. he had to convince me why i should choose to come with. so this is me, standing on the decision i made. why should i be sad about something i chose?”

“i was asleep the whole time, but i think i would’ve said yes to mom if i was awake, too. i just wanted to know why you said yes. cus you… had more going on than i did, back home. this is… way different, for you.”

zuko really wants to believe that she didn’t just agree because she knew that dad wouldn’t punish her if they got caught. and he won’t know if shes lying to him about it either.

“i don’t think i would’ve said yes if mother was the one that came to get me instead of lu ten. even if, deep down, i wanted to come with. and then i would’ve been mad about it forever, and hated her and you and lu ten for leaving me. because mother just took you while you were mostly asleep, and now shes just lucky that you ended up being okay with it anyway.”

zuko startles at how easily she’s talking about this. maybe it’s the distance?

“but lu ten and i… are in the same boat. we’re the same, like how maybe you and mother are the same. and he told me how he felt. and i guess i figured i’d feel the same. so i decided to do the same as him, too. and i have yet to falter, just like how lu ten hasn’t faltered.“

his sister turns to him, very seriously. “father wouldn’t have done interpretive dance to mother’s stories. one day i’ll do interpretive dance to mother’s stories, and so will you and lu ten. so only people that are willing to do interpretive dance to mother’s stories are missed by me. does that make sense?”

he thinks he gets it. in this crazy situation, not feeling bad about wanting to be happy and having opinions probably would mean the same as being willing to do interpretive dance.

“i think my interpretive dance would be better than yours,” he blurts, instead of answering.

azula blinks, then narrows her eyes. “you wish.”

[allegraforchrist]

Self Image as a woman is constant battle between comparison and content.

Idolize the perfect body, the perfect hair, the perfect skin routine, the perfect face shape, the perfect breast size, the perfect gym glutes, the must-be-perfected everything about ourselves.

And after we ‘achieve’ one of the above, we move on to the next project of ourselves.

Women of God, there’s a difference between bettering your body and eating habits, versus objecting your body and eating habits. What I mean by objecting is subjecting ourselves as constant object of attention - attention to the self, and not to God. Attention to the self-image, instead of God’s image.

We should want what is God’s best - for our souls, minds, bodies, and health. We are the temple for the Holy Spirit. But taking that best and turning it into nitpicking obsession, is never going to satisfy your fleshly self-image. You are created in God’s image.

You are the rib, the daughter, the child, the woman of God. When you complicate your beauty in Christ, (beauty as in faith, modesty, prayer, love, kindness, fruits of the spirit, peace), you compromise Christ.

Instead of reflecting Christ, you’re reflecting the world. You’re fixing your outward appearance to match the mask of unpredictable industries.

You can’t say you love God, but then love complaining about your facial features, your body shape, your weight, your stretch marks, your hair, your lips… your whole Godly make up boiled down to what the world defines as a “woman”.

I’ve been here, and I am here, and to be honest, nothing in the world is going to make you a more beautiful daughter, sister, mother, wife, than being in Christ.

We need to value ourselves according to the Word, and not the word of articles, tiktoks, hacks, tutorials, skinny exercise Pilates or whatever.

We mustn’t trade our authentic femininity for short-lived vanity. Don’t idolize what you wear, your makeup, your hair, your skin, your fitness level… etc. Instead of praising God and giving Glory to Him, you give praise and glory to companies and models, and products. I’m not saying don’t get your hair down, don’t go to the gym and get fit, don’t get your nails done, don’t eat healthier, don’t try new methods to help with your acne and stretch marks and dermatological complications, don’t not love your gift of being pretty. I’m saying we mustn’t make our outward appearance the standard over Christ. Our outward must reflect our inward, and that happens when we take our eyes off our insecurities and set them in Christ and the loving Word of God.

Nothing in appearance lasts forever, we aren’t going to look younger and cuter when our bodies are buried one day. Proverbs 31:30, “Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.”

Seek God, seek His image in you, seek His beauty, His purity, His love: because we are made in His image. We are fearfully and wonderfully made! Psalm 139:14, “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”

No, maybe you’re not a Victoria Secret Model like Adriana Lima. You’re not the ideal blonde like Taylor Swift, you’re not curvy like Kim Kardashin, you’re not fit like Simone Biles, you’re not attractive like the DCC Cheerleaders, you’re not super intelligent like Amy from the TBBT, you’re not cleared skinned like Jennie from Black Pink. It doesn’t matter what you’re not, it matters what you are: a woman of God. What makes a woman of God attractive and beautiful and intelligent and pleasing, Her love for Christ! PROVERBS 31! Your value and belle is beyond worldy measure. Proverbs 31:15-18, “…She is more precious than rubies; nothing you desire can compare with her. Long life is in her right hand; in her left hand are riches and honor. Her ways are pleasant ways, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life to those who take hold of her; those who hold her fast will be blessed.

Don’t spend your life hating your body, it is your vessel for the Adonai Almighty.

^ 1 Corinthians 6:19-20, “Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.”

^ 1 Corinthians 10:31, “So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.”

Don’t simplify your significance to God, by treating it as an insecurity. You’re perfect as following Him makes you to be. Matthew 19:21, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”

[starbunii]

hi! may i request kokichi x reader with no ultimate talent but found them interesting regardless because of their unpredictable-ness? thank you <3

omg this one is rlly cute!! i kind of made the reader like a mix of hajime; no talent, but pretty bad luck! a blunt attitude, yet sweet! i hope thats ok!!

-- ♡ --

CRASH !

You winced as another plate hit the floor, pieces of glass scattering everywhere. You jumped back with a small whine, wary of the blood-sucking porcelain that threatened to munch on your feet. After letting out a small sigh, you carefully swept up what remained of the dish.

These types of things had always happened; every day contained another mess up, another mistake -- some sort of unpredictable inconvenience that bothered you and everyone you knew.

But Kokichi didn't see it that way.

Of course, you didn't have a talent. In the world of Hope's Peak, you were practically invisible. Why would anyone bother with you? Kokichi would, that's who.

You were a realm of possibility, moldable, shapeable. You didn't have a set destiny. You were...unpredictable.

He whistled as he walked into the room, watching you clean up the glass. You were funny to watch; waddling around with the dustpan as you carefully dumped everything in the trash.

"Wow...messed up again, huh?" He smirked, leaning against the counter as he rested. You shot him a glare, which only made him giggle.

You didn't question why he was in the kitchen at this hour. There was no point in it. He'd either answer with a lie or tease you for asking at all. Because unfortunately, he was as incalculable as you were.

"It just happened...I don't know..." You grumbled, getting out a different plate and serving yourself a snack.

"Well, you really ought to be more careful. Kirumom's gonna be pissed if she finds out one of her plates is broken." He smirked, speaking in a sing-song tone, still watching you like a little cat.

You huffed and rolled your eyes, storming off to your dorm room.

Now he wasn't expecting that. He chased after you, clearly wanting to pester interact with you some more. "H-Heyyy, now! Come on, dontcha wanna talk to me?" He picked up the pace, his short little legs catching up to you.

"Not particularly." You sighed, shutting your door in his face - at least you thought. Oddly enough, he had snuck in. He glared at you, arms over his chest as he puffed out his cheeks. The straps over his legs swung due to the air of your ceiling fan.

"What?" You glared, taking your snack to your desk.

"Why aren't you paying attention to me?!" He huffed, stomping his foot like a fussy toddler. "You're so...so stupidly interesting!" He grumbled, now beginning to pace.

"Every time I think you're right where I want you, it's like...like you move! You just don't stand still! You never do what I want you to do!" He grunted, tugging at his hair. "It's...it's seriously bothering me...why are you so..so...stupidly unpredictable?! Why can't I manipulate you?!"

"...Manipulate me?" You raised an eyebrow. "I'm not surprised you want to do that...but..I'm not the type to be manipulated so easily."

"Ghhh, I know! You're as smart as I am! Why can't you just be stupid like..like Gonta, or that dumb cum dump, Miu?!"

"Don't insult our classmates..."

"Oh, shut your mouth." He glared, flopping onto your bed. "I hate it...you're smart. You're unlucky but you handle everything so well. You're funny, you're a realist, you're interesting, you're pretty-"

"Huh?"

"..." He shifted onto his side, looking at you. "I...I said you're pretty."

"...Why did you say that..?" You tilted your head down, confused. The look on your face captivated him; not embarrassment, not flirtation. Just sheer and utter confusion.

You always were unpredictable.

starbunii 2024 — all rights reserved. do not redistribute or translate to any other platforms

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for insisting my roommate not get me a Christmas present/WIBT if I insist even more?

🎁 so I can find this later!

TLDR WIBTA if I insist harder than I already have that my (unaware of being transphobic) roommate not get me a gift for Christmas, since my being autistic and nonbinary may complicate things?

Sorry for the long one, there's a lot of context going into this.

I (18X) am a college freshman and am rooming with a person I didn't know beforehand. Our rooming situation is weird, so neither of us had talked to each other at all before moving in. I'll call her S (18F).

S is a very big gift-giver; it's her love language. She's gotten me a couple things in the past and has wanted me to try things so she can see if they'd make for good gifts. The problem is, I'm more on the masc side of being nonbinary, as well as the fact that I have low-intensity ASD, so usually the stuff she would want to get me (skin care, makeup, etc) is never exactly my style (most notably, she wanted me to see how a skin cream felt and I ended up complaining a bit too much, embarrassingly, before realizing that it was rude and assuring her that I appreciated the gesture, which I think helped her feel a little bit better) (another add-on, she knows I'm nonbinary, but still refers to me as a girl and uses she/her for me, which is why she keeps wanting me to try feminine products. I've played it off as not caring because I'm low key a little scared of her lol (in the way that anxious people are scared of confident people))

Because of said confidence, she tends to dominate conversations, and I'm always happy to listen, as someone who doesn't talk much myself. Because of this, I know she loves plushies and has a history with them, so for Christmas a couple weeks ago I ordered her a plushie online and snuck it into our dorm for her to find, and she ended up loving it.

Thing is, as she told me this, she said she was going to get something once she went home for the break. Apparently it's going to be expensive, too, since she joked that she told her mom to prepare for an expensive purchase beforehand.

I insisted that she not get me the gift, and that I didn't need one, but she is incredibly stubborn about it and was set in her ways of getting me one.

This is very nice of her obviously, and I appreciate the gesture, but.. I genuinely don't like being given gifts. If it's a mutually-discussed thing before-hand, sure, but most of the time gifts are a no-go. I don't exactly like giving gifts and I dislike being given gifts even more. There's way too much unpredictability, and because of my ASD, whenever I get a gift I don't like, I end up complaining about it without thinking, before realizing it's rude and assuring the person that I really do appreciate it. I've tried working on this before, but it's something I can't help— it literally happens without me thinking. As well as that, I only really knew what she'd liked because I actively listened to her a lot and spent over two months using the information I had gathered on her to get her the perfect gift. I am awful about this, since I'm very bad at coming up with gifts for people and this process— taking multiple months just to figure out what to get her— is the best I can do. I'd much rather hang out with people and buy stuff for them on the town, like paying for a dinner or sweets or whatever. The only reason I went through all of this for her is because 1 I appreciate her trying to be nice to me despite the fact that I am literally the type of person she'd bully in high school, 2 it's Christmas, and 3 it feels like I'm repaying her for trying to buy me all this stuff

So her getting me this gift just.. wouldn't sit right with me. I'm terrified of her getting me something I won't like and complaining about it before I can even think because of my ASD, and it'd feel like a massive debt to repay that'd eat at me forever. Plus, despite trying her best to respect my identity, she.. doesn't really know how transphobic she is, and I'm worried she might get me something very cutesy feminine that'd either make me 1 act uncomfortable or 2 lie to her and reaffirm her beliefs that I'm just female-lite. So, this is where my problem lies. WIBTA if I insist harder for her to not get me a present, despite it being her love language?

What are these acronyms?

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

A Night Out

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~3.1k

Summary: You meet Pietro and he doesn’t give the best first impression

A/N: There were a lot of possibilities for this one...

Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort 

You sigh happily as you sit down at a table in your favorite restaurant, ready for dinner. You and Wanda are meeting at a place you frequent often because of its location and ownership. Although you don’t know the specifics, it’s in Wanda’s territory and everyone who works here treats her like the boss. No one has dared bother you two here, and luckily that’s continued to be the case in the short period of time you’re alone waiting for her to arrive.

You’d planned on meeting about ten minutes ago, but Wanda had texted you just now telling you that she’ll be even later than she thought. She’d run into issues at work, but she was leaving shortly so hopefully she’d be there in 20 minutes. You weren’t mad because you’d known in your time together that her schedule was unpredictable, and despite being a boss, she couldn’t control everything. You were at least grateful that she wasn’t too late, and that you were waiting somewhere you could get food. She’d actually told you to go ahead and order because she knew how hungry you got, but you’d promised to wait.

Well, you’d get some appetizers while you wait, but you didn’t feel a need to order and have Wanda feel like she was truly running late when she saw you eating dinner without her. You lean back and set your menu down as soon as the waiter leaves. There’s still a smile on your face as you consider your plans for the rest of the night.

Wanda had been ridiculously busy lately, more so than usual, and you were glad that she had promised you the weekend. She’d been working on something that caused her more anxiety that you were used to, and this was the first time since she’d started on it that she was willing to see you in public. You weren’t a stranger to how paranoid your girlfriend could be, but these past few weeks had been extreme.

You recall how relaxed she’d been this afternoon when she’d called you to check in and make sure that dinner still worked for you. You hope that this will still be the case despite her delay. You open your eyes when you hear someone set something on your table. You think it’s the waiter and you open your mouth to thank them, but you’re surprised to see a vaguely familiar face.

“Y/N, Y/LN. It’s nice to finally meet you. My name’s Pietro Maximoff.”

Wanda wasn’t sure what was happening today. She’d wrapped up her last deal yesterday and she’d planned on taking the day off, hell the weekend off, but something came up early this morning. She’d been contacted and told that she needed to meet with the man she’d just finished negotiating with to go over one last thing. She’d been confused and then slightly annoyed when she’d arrived to meet him only for no one to show up. Her paranoia had made her think it was a set up, and despite having Steve with her she’d freaked out.

Except no one was there waiting for her. Not for a meeting or an ambush, so she left confused and unsure of what the hell happened.

Now she was late for her date with you because when she went down to her car after talking to her brother, she found that it had a flat tire. She had a number of other cars she could have driven, too many honestly, but the keys had gone missing so she was stuck fixing this one. She knew someone was trying to sabotage her today, but she just didn’t know why. She was determined to enjoy her weekend with you, but this was starting to piss her off.

You’re still staring at him in shock when your waiter shows up a couple of minutes later with your drink and some bread. You feel a strong urge to stuff your face out of stress, but you resist the urge as Pietro shoots you an expectant, unimpressed look.

“You’re not too talkative, are you?”

You just watch in stunned silence as Pietro helps himself to your food, and he eats almost half of it before you regain your wits.

“Pietro…um nice to meet you. How did you know...?”

You trail off because you’re not quite sure what you wanted to say. There were a lot of options and you were struggling to come up with something to hopefully explain his surprise visit.

He almost glares at you as he takes a good look at you. You’re not quite what he’d expected, but then again his sister dated so few people that he wasn’t sure why he expected anything at all. You were cute, but kinda mousy as you sat in front of him looking around like you wanted to dart toward the nearest exit. He supposed it wasn’t fair to surprise you like this, but it also wasn’t fair that he was the last one to meet you. He’d only learned about your existence last week.

“That you’re dating my sister? She’s not as sneaky as she thinks she is. She’s also introduced you to everyone, but me.”

You’re not sure how to respond to this, and you’re caught off guard by this entire thing. You are poorly prepared for this because you’d naïvely thought that you would get a warning, you’d be prepped before meeting Wanda’s brother. You only have a second to wonder if she knew about this meeting before Pietro’s speaking up again.

“I can’t help but think that there’s a reason she didn’t want to tell me about you two. I know my sister’s paranoid, but based on what the others have said it’s been over a year, right?”

You can’t help but frown at his accusing words and what they seem to suggest. You don’t like that someone you don’t know, who doesn’t know you seems to think he can judge you based on what he’s heard second or third-hand. You scowl as you sit back slightly and try not to seem too annoyed despite your raging feelings.

“It’s been 15 months and we were planning on telling you soon. She just wanted to prepare me because for some reason she thought you’d be a pain.”

Pietro stands up straight and shoots you a glare for the dig, and he’s surprised to see that you don’t budge at all as you glare back. He wonders why Wanda hadn’t told him about you before now. Could it just be because she was worried that he’d scare you off? Looking at you now, he’s not sure that would be possible. He decides to cut to the chase because he really doesn’t know how long Wanda will be delayed. He’d rather leave before she shows up, if at all possible.

“What exactly do you want from my sister?”

You’d been prepared for a question like this, and you’d actually spent time thinking about your answer before today. You didn’t want much from Wanda. Well other than for her to stay with you, you didn’t want anything to change. She wasn’t perfect, you weren’t blinded by love or lust enough to believe that, but she was still more than you could ever want. More than you ever thought you deserved.

You shrug in a nonchalant way that you’re sure bothers Pietro, but that’s just a perk as you lean forward to grab the rest of the bread. You take a sip of your drink waiting just long enough to see him get annoyed before responding.

“I don’t want her for any of the reasons you’re probably thinking. I’m with her because I love her.”

Pietro frowns clearly dissatisfied with this answer, but you don’t give him time to protest. You sigh in annoyance as you discreetly check the time. You’re hoping that Wanda shows up soon so you can be free of this unwelcome, quite frankly rude interrogation. You shoot Pietro a suspicious look that soon turns to amusement as you run a hand through your hair.

“Let me guess. You wanted me to say that I was with her for the thrill of it all? Maybe her money? Or maybe you thought I was just shallow enough to want her for her looks alone? Did I miss any?”

Pietro flounders for a moment as he goes through his mental list of possible ulterior motives you had, and you actually did miss one. He sits down and leans on the table before he nods. He takes a good look at you again and realizes that he’s definitely underestimated you. You’re shy sure, but you won’t put up with any of his bullshit.

“Actually yes. You missed the long con. Where you pretend to be in love with my sister just so you can hit her where it hurts most.”

You’re actually a little surprised to hear him say this, and it shows as your mouth falls open. You hadn’t thought of this one because honestly it was never a concern that Wanda had raised with you. When you started dating, and after you learned the truth she’d told you about her previous relationships and various reservations she’d had. You had understood them at the time, and despite not wanting any of that from Wanda, you hated that she’d experienced that. She deserved better than someone trying to use her.

You eventually shake your head as you look past Pietro to see your girlfriend has arrived. You’ve run out of time to prove yourself as a good partner to Pietro, but you’re not too worried about that right now. Wanda looks irritated and flustered, and you can’t help but think that’s going to get worse.

“I guess you’ll just have to see about that one, Pietro.”

Pietro opens his mouth to argue, but he’s caught off guard by the sudden appearance of his sister beside him. He jerks slightly and can’t help but dread what’s coming. She looks pissed.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Pietro?”

Wanda had started to put things together on the drive over here. The fact that nothing had gone right today, and she’d hit roadblock after roadblock for no apparent reason. It wasn’t until she arrived to the restaurant where she was prepared to grovel for being so late, that she realized the reason for today’s shit show. When she sees her brother sitting with you, she sees red, and she’s about to rip him a new one when she sees how upset you look.

Pietro turns to her quickly and he realizes that his sister must know everything just from how angry she is. She would be ticked to find him here bothering you, but the fact that he made sure she was late, and kept her from you just so he could do this made her want to punch him in the face.

“Sestra, I was just--.”

Pietro’s fine with being cut off because he’s not sure what he really would have said that would make his sister less angry. She’s glaring at him and is only seconds away from grabbing him by the ear and tugging him out of the restaurant when you speak up.

“It looks like you were interrogating my girlfriend after making sure that my day would go to shit and I would be late.”

Pietro cringes at the confirmation that Wanda knows what he did, but he doesn’t get a chance to defend himself when he hears you clear your throat. He looks over to see you’re draining the rest of your drink as you stuff another piece of bread into your mouth. You shoot him a smug look that makes him dread what’s coming.

“Pietro was just asking me if I was running a long con. He doesn’t seem to trust my intentions.”

Wanda moves so quickly that Pietro doesn’t have a chance to get away. She grabs him by his shirt and drags him toward the bathroom so she can yell at him in private.

“Excuse us, detka. I’ll be right back.”

Pietro doesn’t put up much of a fight as he’s shoved through the bathroom door. He does grumble in annoyance as he tries to straighten out his shirt after Wanda’s let him go. He watches as she locks the door behind her and takes a step toward him.

“Pietro, I swear to God. If you said anything else to upset her I’m--.”

Pietro’s done just letting his sister yell at him and he shakes his head and crosses his arms in annoyance.

“Why would she get upset about me saying that unless it was true, huh? Did you ever think about that?”

Wanda groans under her breath because her brother really is being an idiot. She doesn’t care if he had good intentions coming here tonight because she knows that it always comes back to the same thing. He just doesn’t trust her to make her own decisions when it comes to relationships. She wishes she could go back in time and never tell him about her really one and only relationship that went so wrong. You’re not like that and Pietro’s going to have to figure that out on his own if he won’t listen to her.

“I can’t speak to why she’s upset, Pietro, but if I had to guess it might have to do with the fact that you ambushed her and immediately criticized her without knowing shit!”

Pietro doesn’t get to say that he knows about you already. He’s talked to Steve, Bucky and Nat about you and they’d all said similar things. They didn’t know much about your intentions but you seemed nice enough. Wanda wouldn’t let them all hang out with you because it was too risky and she didn’t want you to feel overwhelmed. Pietro immediately decided this meant that you and his sister were hiding something, and he wanted to know what it was.

“When are you ever going to trust me again, Piet?”

Pietro’s a little surprised by this question, but he doesn’t dwell on it before he’s shaking his head. He does trust his sister. She has the best judgment of any of them, and she’s taken their empire to new heights because of it. She wasn’t the problem here.

“I do trust you, Wanda, but I don’t trust her. “

Wanda’s glaring at him again and she wants to scream in frustration at how damn stubborn her brother is being right now. She’s starting to see why you get annoyed with her sometimes.

“You don’t know her! Maybe if you tried talking to her like a human being, you’d realize that she’s a great fit for me.”

Pietro can’t help but scoff as he looks to Wanda dubiously.

“Oh yeah, in what way? She’s a freaking student, and you’re a fucking mobster, Wanda!”

They’re yelling so loudly now that Wanda’s sure they’re being overheard, so despite her anger she tries to take it down a bit. She’s starting to be really disappointed in her brother. How could he judge you like this?

“Y/n makes me happy, Piet! She helps me forget that I’m a fucking mobster and she treats me like a normal person. She’s special and I know she really loves me. I thought you’d care about that above all else.”

Pietro doesn’t say anything in response as he tries to come to terms with what Wanda’s saying. He struggles to shake his suspicions, but hearing that you treat her well and truly love her makes it a little easier. He’s only ever wanted his sister to be safe and happy, and even if he couldn’t guarantee one, he’d be damned if he didn’t try for the other one.

He doesn’t get much longer to consider this before Wanda’s sighing in defeat and frustration. She’d already been late to dinner when she got here, but now she was just being rude. She didn’t like to leave things unfinished, but she couldn’t justify leaving you alone anymore. She was definitely going to have to grovel for your forgiveness later.

“You know what, Pietro. Just forget it. I don’t want to talk about this with you anymore.”

Wanda turns to head out the door, but she stops short as she shoots the older Maximoff a warning look.

“Stay away from, Y/n, Piet, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Pietro just watches as his sister leaves to salvage her date with a sigh. He wishes he could just believe what Wanda was saying, but he’d have to figure it out on his own somehow. Maybe not any time soon though because if his sister was serious, which he believed she was, she’d kick his ass if he tried to talk to you again. He decided to just call it quits for tonight and he leaves the bathroom and heads for the front of the restaurant. He’s almost out the door when he turns around to see if he can steal a glance at you two. What he sees surprises almost as much as it embarrasses him.

You’re sitting beside Wanda with your arm wrapped around her waist. His sister’s turned into you with her face hidden in your neck as she shakes slightly. You’re frowning deeply as you rub your other hand up and down her back, and Pietro realizes then that his sister’s crying. He feels a wave of shame wash over him at the fact that he’d upset her this much, and this quickly intensifies when he realizes that he’s caught your eye. You’re looking at him with that same frown, and you’re more disappointed than angry with him as you try to comfort his sister.

Pietro leaves quickly after that and he shakes his head in defeat as he walks to his car. He’s starting to think he’s made a mistake. He truly didn’t know enough about you to distrust you, and seeing how you were comforting his sister just now he decided that he’s going to try to do better. Next time he sees you, he’ll apologize and do his best to salvage whatever relationship he can with you. If you truly mean that much to his sister, he needs to make this up to you. To both of you. He just needs to figure out how.

Masterlist 

[v3nusxsky]

May I- May I request for a platonic Lady Lesso x Never!reader who is quiet and shy but has anger issues for this challenging times I'm in lol. :)))

I'm giving you a free hand to think of the plot details.

Take your time, no rush.

Miss you the most, sissy.

xx, B 💙

Firey inferno| h&c

*authors note~ of course you can blue and no way I so miss you more* @hxzxrdous it’s for you 🤍

Trigger warnings~ ied (explosive anger) loss of control, physical acts of anger self loathing self harm, tightness in your chest, shaking limbs racing thoughts,

Ever since your father did what he did to you as a child, you’d go through what you call blips. Not because it’s tame, no it’s because you have no recollection of the event after it happens. You’ve lost count how many times you just exploded on someone, who really did nothing wrong. Your mouth ran away with you, your limbs acting out all while you were detached from your own body. You didn’t care who or what you hurt in these moments but afterwards was always a different story. The self loathing and ways to punish yourself always came after, you hated yourself and your behaviours. Truly it was never a choice for you.

You’d been quite in Leonora’s class, but not today. You were running around the class chasing Heather with what appeared to be a knife. You were spewing horrible comments and threatening her. It took a lot for that to happen, but now perhaps maybe it couldn’t be helped. But as always the overwhelming anger, the way your chest felt tight and restricted and the racing thoughts won out. They always do. You were inches away from stabbing your class mate when Leonora used her finger glow to freeze you both in motion.

“What in gods name are you doing!” She bellowed at you causing you to blink rapidly. You were angry, really angry. That’s all you knew. You didn’t know where the knife came from or the fact the pain in your chest was now overwhelming. “I-“ you started only to be cut off “she tried to kill me lady lesso!” Heather sobbed dramatically in a hopes of sympathy. “Class dismissed, apart from you Y/N” she commanded and every left with smirks or words of luck. It was a well known fact that no one would want to be on the other hand of Leonora’s wrath.

“What’s going on y/n?” Lesso murmured in a hopes a soothing tone would help, truthfully she didn’t want to go any further due to the knife and your unpredictable actions. “I-I don’t know. I’m just so angry, and I don’t remember but I’m a terrible person! I don’t even know where I got this from! But seems I have it let’s put it to use!” You sobbed bringing the knife to your already scarred arms. “Woah, okay no. Y/n give me the knife sweet girl, you don’t need to do that. Come set it down and we can talk” she rationalised and after one last deep virtual cut you did as she asked.

“I can’t be like this anymore!” You sobbed falling to the ground, “somethings wrong with me. I’m a horrid human, go lady lesso before I hurt you, I don’t want to do it. But I’m so so angry. Make it stop” you rambled and it was clear to the dean you were a troubled teen, more than she could’ve ever imagined you to be but she wouldn’t leave you now or ever. As your dean she wanted to be there for you and show you she wouldn’t leave. And over time she helped you learn your triggers and you always had a safe space to run if your anger got so bad, she would always help.

[frazzledsoul]

rory and dean, part three: we’re really just fucking kidding ourselves at this point, or why rory does not deserve 99% of the blame for this disaster

So, OG Gilmore Girls fans may recall that Dean Forester’s ill-advised marriage to his rebound girlfriend was actually an attempt to write him off the show. Jared had filmed a pilot for a Young Macgyver show (you can watch most of it online here), but the WB ultimately passed so we (and Rory) were stuck with Dean for another year and a half. One wonders what would have happened if they hadn’t passed. Would we never have heard from Dean again? Would ASP have roped him into a few guest appearances anyway and attempted to do the same storyline? Would they just have gotten Milo to guest star for season four? Would Rory have run away with Jess in that scenario? Who knows.

Anyway, let’s revisit the issue of Dean vs Jess at the end of season four, after Rory rejects Jess’s plea to run away with him

RORY: Anyway, I left the pub, got back to my dorm, and Jess was there. LANE: What did he want? RORY: He wanted me to come away with him. LANE: Oh, my God! What did you say? RORY: I said -- I don't know. It was so weird. He was just... Jess. I mean, he shows up out of no where with this crazy proposal. It was awful. LANE: It doesn't sound awful. RORY: What are you talking about? Jess bailed on me twice. LANE: I know, but how incredibly romantic to have this guy show up out of the blue and want to take you away with him. RORY: When I first met Jess, I thought, "What could be better than this? He's smart, good taste in books and music, so cute." But Jess is great one minute and then the next - you know, as far as I know, I could have said yes, packed my bag, and by the time I got to the car, he would have changed his mind. LANE: It's part of why he's cute. He's unpredictable. RORY: I guess. You know, when I was with Dean, I always knew that no matter what happened, he would be there. LANE: Dean was very dependable. RORY: It was more than that. He's -- well, he was so... um, I was safe, and he was so nice to me. LANE: He really loved you. RORY: I think I really blew it there, you know? I didn't appreciate it. LANE: Every girl has to fall for a bad boy. It's the rule. It's the reason so many accountants eventually get married.

While this fits nicely with my headcanon that Dave eventually became an accountant, that is neither here nor there. I think this is the only time Rory really is shown processing the breakup with Jess until he shows up again in season 6 and how it led her to the Dean disaster, because as schmoopy as she gets about Dean in the twelve hours or so after she sleeps with him, it’s clear that she’s mostly looking for affirmation and stability, and not to get dragged down by feelings she can’t trust or control.

And of course, she had pretty much zero boundaries with Dean prior to this: crying on his shoulder, haranguing him about not going to college, knowing that Lindsay wouldn’t approve of him hanging out with her at night and doing it anyway. Who was going to tell her she shouldn’t do that, after the example her parents set for her over and over? Anyway. Moving on.

So, let’s go over Dean’s seduction technique, which mostly involves him lying his ass off.

DEAN: It's not working with Lindsay. I can't make it work. I've tried. RORY: Are you sure? Because I've heard that the first two years of marriage are the hardest. DEAN: We're not happy. She's not happy, and I can't make her happy. RORY: I can't imagine that. DEAN: It was a mistake, and I know that now. From the very beginning, it wasn't - RORY: Wasn't what? DEAN: It wasn't... RORY: Maybe you could, um, go see a counselor or go away together. DEAN: No, it's just -- it's over. We both feel it. I know we both feel it. RORY: You and Lindsay? DEAN: Yeah, me and Lindsay. RORY: You both feel it's over? DEAN: I tried. We tried. RORY: Well, if it's over, I'm sorry. DEAN: You are? RORY: I'm sorry you're not happy. DEAN: I'll be happy again. Things happen for a reason, right?

Not to completely absolve Rory for all of this as she definitely should have gone on more than Dean’s word, but he absolutely lied to her face after she gave him three chances in a row to come clean. He made sure to follow her to her house, where she would be alone, and manipulated her into having sex with him. Yet somehow Rory is shamed for being the seductress who tempted him into breaking his vows.

Let’s move on to Lorelai, who is actually speaking sense on matters of morality, for once.

LORELAI: But he's married. RORY: You don't understand the situation. LORELAI: Is he still married? RORY: Yes, but - LORELAI: Then I understand the situation. RORY: It's not working out between them. They're not happy. LORELAI: Oh, Rory. RORY: He tried the best he could, but it didn't work. It's over. LORELAI: [ Sighs ] He told you that? RORY: Yes. LORELAI: He told you he's leaving her? RORY: Well - LORELAI: He told you he's moving out, they're getting divorced, he's got a lawyer, they've divided up the monster-truck season tickets? RORY: We didn't get around to discussing everything.

Yeah, Rory, because he lied and told you exactly what he needed to so that you would fuck him. He never actually made any steps towards leaving his wife, and he won’t until he’s forced to,

RORY: He's not a married guy. He's Dean -- my Dean.

LORELAI: He's not your Dean. He's Lindsay's Dean. You're the other woman. RORY: I told you, it's over. LORELAI: It's not over until he's out of the house with the ring off. RORY: He took the ring off. LORELAI: Oh, my God, I don't believe this. RORY: He's in love with me, not Lindsay. LORELAI: Does Lindsay know that? RORY: She's not good for him, okay? She lets him quit school and work himself to death and - LORELAI: No, Rory, uh-uh, you can't be one of those girls who blames the wife for forcing the husband to cheat.

Funny how Lorelai was exactly like that when Christopher was having problems with Sherry and not only slept with him before he had moved out or officially broken up with her, but bragged about it to Sookie, paraded him all around Stars Hollow, and let everyone she knew about their burgeoning relationship, including her parents. It would be strange if that happened to come up again, right?

LORELAI: This is your first time. It's just not the way your first time was supposed to be. RORY: Oh, and how was my first time supposed to be? LORELAI: Well, first of all, it was supposed to be in a retirement home. And secondly, ideally, it was supposed to be with someone single. RORY: My first time was with someone sweet and kind who loves me. LORELAI: I didn't raise you to be like this. I didn't raise you to be the kind of girl who sleeps with someone else's husband. RORY: You slept with dad when he was with Sherry. LORELAI: He wasn't married to Sherry. RORY: He was engaged, and she was pregnant. LORELAI: So, this is all my fault? I set one crappy example for you, and you have no choice but to follow in my footsteps?

They’re basically one of those old anti-drug PSAs. I learned it from watching you!

I mean, it’s not like Lorelai badgered and pressured Rory into staying with Dean when her attention drifted to Jess and constantly argued for his innate superiority over and over and over.....oh wait, she totally did that. It’s not like Lorelai failed to sit Rory down at some point and explain that the reason their hearts got broken over Christopher not breaking up with his girlfriend is because sometimes when you sleep with other people’s boyfriends, they opt not to choose you in the end. Oh, wait, she didn’t do that, either, because he was her Christopher and they’ve always been connected. So she’s completely entitled to not take any responsibility for that situation and try to vandalize the other woman’s bathroom at her baby shower because she was jealous.

So, let’s just say I kind of understand why Rory gives Lorelai the cold shoulder here. Who is she to lecture, given her track record? And we know it’s only going to get worse.

Before we move on from this, though...

RORY: He was my boyfriend first! LORELAI: But you dumped him! You rejected him! You picked someone else!

Okay, technically it was Dean that dumped her (apparently I am the only one who remembers this) but as much as Rory pretends that Dean was the perfect boyfriend, both of them are significantly overidealizing the halcyon days of their early relationship. They were together for three months, and only reconcile when Rory is badgered into saying that she loves him: then it’s a few more months until Jess shows up and Rory loses almost all interest in Dean whatsoever. So the perfect love that they claim to want to relive never really existed.

Okay, let’s move on to how Dean actually treats his wife he claims to Rory he was completely in the process of breaking up with prior to him boinking his ex.

Upon learning that Lindsay had committed the unpardonable sin of answering her husband’s phone:

DEAN: I mean, you know it's my phone, Lindsay. This isn't your phone. I mean, who was it? LINDSAY: I don't know. They hung up. DEAN: So you didn't take a message? LINDSAY: I told you -- they hung up. DEAN: So, great, uh, you're just answering my phone and not taking messages? That's great, Lindsay. LINDSAY: Dean, wh-- DEAN: Taylor calls on this phone, and Tom. I mean, this phone is for business, okay? That's why I have it! LINDSAY: Fine. DEAN: What if Tom called, and he had an extra shift for me tomorrow, huh? I mean he calls to tell me, and you answer, and he thinks maybe he doesn't have the right number, and he hangs up, and then I just lose out, which means we lose out. God, Lindsay, you know, you don't -- you don't get it, do you? I mean, you have absolutely no respect for me at all. That's just obvious. LINDSAY: I don't want to fight. We always fight. I won't answer your phone anymore. I was asleep. I didn't think. I'm sorry, okay?

Jeebus, she completely sounds like a battered wife here. What a prince Dean is, huh? And yeah, Dean completely doesn’t sound like someone who’s trying really hard to cover his tracks.

Let’s move on. Rory overhears Lindsay trying to prepare dinner in the hopes of smoothing things over with Dean, and she finally accepts that Dean has not left his wife and at this point likely has no intentions to. She writes a break-up letter for Lorelai to deliver to him.

LORELAI: It's a letter for you from Rory. DEAN: What happened? Where is she? LORELAI: Just take the letter. DEAN: She went to Europe, right? Miss Patty said she went to Europe. What happened? What's she doing there? Who is she with? LORELAI: Dean. DEAN: When's she getting back? LORELAI: Soon. Just take it. DEAN: Where is she? LORELAI: Europe. DEAN: With who? LORELAI: Her grandmother. Look, take it. DEAN: No. Why did she go? Whose idea was it? LORELAI: That doesn't matter. DEAN: It does.

Dean, are you still married? Then it’s none of your business who Rory is with. Fuck off, sir. You have no right to ask anything of her.

Lindsay finds the letter and finally gives Dean a small taste of what he deserves.

LINDSAY: I hate you, Dean! I hate everything! DEAN: Let's just talk. LINDSAY: I don't want to talk! I don't want you here! DEAN: I'm sorry, okay? LINDSAY: Sorry? DEAN: Yes, because it'll never happen again.

Sure sounds like a guy who really, really wants to leave his marriage and totally didn’t feed Rory a bunch of bullshit to get her to do what he wants.

Lindsay kicks Dean out and her mom and Lorelai have a blowout in the middle of the street while their kids stand by silently like the teenage girls that they still are.

MRS. LISTER: You! You should be ashamed of yourself -- what you did! LORELAI: Just wait. MRS. LISTER: What did she ever do to you, huh? How did she hurt you? Why are you doing this? LORELAI: Theresa, please. Calm down. MRS. LISTER: Calm down? My little girl has to come home and find your heinous letter in Dean's jacket. LORELAI: Listen, we're in the street -- MRS. LISTER: You little monster! LORELAI: Hey! Pull back, lady! MRS. LISTER: There aren't hundreds of other boys in the world? You have to go after her husband? LORELAI: Okay, stop attacking my daughter right now. You're upset, I get it, but you do not do this. MRS. LISTER: She slept with my son-in-law. She broke up a marriage. Are you proud? LORELAI: She did not break up a marriage. MRS. LISTER: What do you know of this? LORELAI: Enough. I know Rory. MRS. LISTER: All I know is that now my Lindsay is devastated, Dean is back with his parents, lives are destroyed, and you and your daughter can go to hell!

Okay, first of all, this was a predictable end result when two teenagers who don’t know each other that well decide to get married at the age of eighteen. Why did their parents, especially Lindsay’s mother encourage this? And what the fuck is up with blaming Rory for the situation completely? No, she shouldn’t have done it, but Dean is the one who decided to marry Lindsay. He’s the one that decided to cheat. He’s the one that decided to lie to both of them. He is not an innocent bystander. 

Later on, Rory tries to comfort Dean over what has happened.

DEAN: No. It's not a stupid question. Um...let's see. How do I feel? Actually...I feel like an idiot. RORY: Why? DEAN: Why? Because I was married, …Rory. Married. And I threw it all away for someone who dumped me once and then just bailed on me. RORY: I didn't just bail. I -- DEAN: I hurt everybody. I hurt Lindsay, I hurt her parents, I hurt my parents, and now I'm back at home, and you're in Europe with your grandmother. And what the hell was I thinking? I mean, what am I doing? What's wrong with me?

I mean, the correct answer here is that everything is wrong with you, Dean, but....in the first place, Rory didn’t dump you, second of all, and she “bailed” because you lied and had no intention of leaving your wife in the first place. Take responsibility for your own actions, my man.

Rory and Dean eventually date for a month or so. Dean dumps her again because he realizes they have nothing in common. Does he take any steps towards moving on with his life and taking responsibility for his own mistakes? 

DEAN: Your situation is no different from mine. Buddy. LUKE: I've got work to do. DEAN: Then go. They want more than this. Don't you see that? And all you are is this. LUKE: Rory was a kid, Dean. She grew up. She moved on. Accept it. DEAN: You accept it. This town, it's all you are, and it's not enough. She's going to get bored, and you can't take her anywhere. You're here forever. LUKE: It's different. DEAN: It's not different. You and me. Same thing.

Bear in mind this episode takes place in April and Dean dumped Rory the previous November, and yet he’s still bitter, still projecting onto Luke, and still completely blaming Rory for all of his own decisions. He was the one who dumped her the first two times. He was the one that got into a fight with Jess on her behalf. He was the one who proposed to Lindsay to get her to forget about it. He was the one who got married despite his reservations. He was the one who lied to Rory so that she would have sex with him. He was the one who refused to leave his wife. And oh yeah....he was the one who dumped Rory a third time.

That’s the last we see of Dean for eleven years until he shows up in the revival and actually seems emotionally stable for a change.

Somehow Rory gets the brunt of the blame for all of this, but she wasn’t in this alone. I do think she was scared into this by Jess showing up, and if he had any sort of explanation or apology for her either of the times he showed up, she probably wouldn’t have been so vulnerable to the affirmation that Dean offered her. Then she could have had a disappointing first experience with Marty as an alternative.

Which still would have been an improvement over the horror of that Candyman song.

[ivarlover]

UNPREDICTABLE

Part 2 (sequel #4 to UNLEASHED, UNDENIABLE, and UNEXPECTED)

Alex + Modern Ivar

Mentions of Female Reader + Hvitserk

NSFW 18+ ONLY

If you're new here and want to catch up, just go to my pinned master list. The first chapter is UNLEASHED, then UNDENIABLE, then UNEXPECTED, and now UNPREDICTABLE...

This was supposed to be just a one-shot, but here we are. At this point, I have no idea how many chapters this will end up consiating of. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it!🔥

Summary: During a hot weekend with your classmate, Alex, and his best friend, Ivar, the two of them had their own fun together. And now, it had turned into an entire relationship between the two of them that neither of them had seen coming. Now, that reality has set in, they navigate the relationship, and all that comes along with it, the good, the bad, and the unexpected. Now that they were just getting into the swing of things and finding their groove, Ivar's ex fiance comes back into the picture, and it seems she is sure to shake things up.

Warnings, The sequel in general: Totally NSFW, Unprotected anal sex (male receiving), oral, male to male contact and more, a bad case of the feels, language, smut, with me, there is ALWAYS smut. 🤣 Each chapter will have it's own warnings.

This chapter: Language, smut, of course, oral, major case of the feels, *inaccurate medical descriptions, diagnosis, and practices,* a disgusting pervert, Ivar being Ivar

Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!

Words: I don't know, but WAY TOO MANY

*Let me know if you want on or off the tag list!*

Note from me: My apologies for how long this has taken, but hopefully, the length of this chapter will make up for it.... ok, who am I kidding? The length of this chapter needs an apology of its own, too. Oops! Sorry!

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The last few days had basically been hell: hell for Ivar, hell for Alex, and really, even hell for Katia. Ivar had been trying to be the patient, understanding boyfriend, but the longer he was away from Alex, the angrier he was becoming.

After Alex had left Ivar's that night, Ivar spent most of the night trying to get him to answer his phone. He decided not to drive to Alex's apartment, no matter how tempting, because he knew if he'd been so upset that he'd left without a word, that he clearly needed the time to himself. And besides, he wasn't sure, exactly, why he'd left anyway, because he thought they'd cleared everything up when they were in the car.

He also knew that if Alex was pissed about him getting Katia out of the bathtub while she was naked, he'd have to wait until Alex was calm, because while Katia wasn't someone he wanted to be with, she was still the mother of his child, and Ivy loves her. He couldn't sit back and let something happen to her just because she wasn't dressed. He didn't see her that way anymore and wasn't even thinking about her body. Thus, he knew if that was why Alex left, then maybe it was best they didn't see each other just yet. He didn't want to say anything out of anger that he'd later regret. Just thinking about it pissed him off, and he definitely didn't need to make things way worse by actually telling Alex to kiss his ass if that's what he was mad about. No, he needed a better approach. Surely, Alex knew his feelings for him and how he wanted to be with him and him only.

Ivar had finally talked to Hvitserk and Y/N about it and got some advice. He knew Alex had talked to Y/N about everything by now. Y/N had a way of putting things into perspective for Alex.

"Look man, all I know is that I sure as fuck didn't leave my room or my comfortable bed at your place to come couch surfing a few days between Y/N's and Ubbe's just so fucking Katia would have you all to her fucking self! I'm sure she's over the fucking moon happy, thinking she's won. You better find Alex, and you better fucking fix this!" Hvitserk spat out to Ivar. "Like, how the hell did you even find yourself in this situation to begin with? You should have let her ass go back to Russia, and you could have just flown out there in the jet to see Ivy every weekend, Shit for Brains! If you'd just ever fucking listen to me, I mean, I am the big brother here, you'd be fine! But no, you fucking think you know everything. I'm telling you, you better fix this! That man loves you!"

"Hvits, you know we have the club to tend to on the weekends. It would have just not been possible to leave here every weekend. Plus, who the fuck says I want to only see my child on the weekends? Oh, and Hvits?"

"Yeah?"

"I know you haven't been sleeping on Y/N's fucking couch! Not once!" Ivar laughed.

Hvitserk snarled and...

Snatching the phone from Hvitserk, Y/N told Ivar, "Look, just go to him, what was it, Shit for Brains? Seriously, you two are so difficult and for no reason. Do you know how lucky you are to have found a love like yours? Now, don't piss it away!"

"But, umm, what if..."

"Ivar, stop. You know I've talked to him. Just go. Do you need me to come watch Ivy for you? I will."

Ivar considered it, thoughtfully, "Umm, you seriously wouldn't umm, mind?"

She sighed, "Get ready. Hvits and I are on the way. We'll be there as soon as we can. And yes, we can stay the night if you need us to."

Hvitserk elbowed her, and gave her a dirty look to which she scolded him by simply looking back at him sternly. He dropped his head and smiled. He knew he was whipped.

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"Katia is already sleeping, and I just laid Ivy down. It should be pretty quiet here," Ivar told Y/N and Hvitserk, standing in his doorway about to practically jump out of his skin. "And if you need anything..."

"Yeah, yeah, we'll call you. Go already before I change my mind and take Y/N back to her place and have my way with her," Hvitserk half laughed.

"Yeah, like you won't still do that anyway here in your room," Ivar laughed. "I just ask that you wash your own sheets this time!" Ivar grinned, and patted him on the back.

"Fuck you!"

"Love you, too, brother," Ivar said as he hugged Y/N. "Seriously, thank you, Babe."

"Hey! She's not your fucking babe!" Hvitserk snarled, "Anymore at least. Not since she found the best Lothbrok," he grinned, smacking Y/N on the ass.

"Ok, ok. Enough already. Go, Ivar, and stop stalling. It's going to be ok," Y/N said, shoving him on out the door. Winking at him, she added, "Go get 'em, tiger!"

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Ivar had been gone for maybe 30 minutes. Y/N and Hvitserk were settled and snuggled on the sofa together, watching TV, when they heard the sound of a bell.

"What the fuck is that?"

"Oh, it must be Katia. Alex told me she had a bell to ring if she needed something during the night and Ivar didn't hear the baby monitor," Y/N informed Hvitserk. "Stay here. I'll go check it out."

"The fuck you will! I'll go with you. She's toxic, Y/N. The last thing I need is her getting in your head. And a baby monitor? Really?" Hvitserk seemed to know her better than anyone.

"At least my stupid baby brother had enough sense to make her room downstairs and not on the same floor with his. I can only imagine the shit she'd try to pull," Hvitserk said under his breath as they got to her door.

Putting her finger to her lips, Y/N whispered, "Listen!"

Behind the closed door, they could hear Katia, "Ivar? Ivar, can you hear me? I just woke up from a really bad dream," Katia whinned. "Can you please bring me a glass of water and my pills?"

"Is this bitch fucking serious? Surely my fucking brother is not this fucking stupid and gullible!" Hvitserk's face was of complete disgust. "It's time she learned tonight."

"Hvitserk! Don't!" was all Y/N managed to get out of her mouth before he slammed the door open.

"Ivar?" Katia asked in the dark.

"Nope. Even better," Hvitserk turned on the lights.

Holding up her hands to block the bright light, Katia asked, "Hvitserk? Wh-what are you doing here?" Y/N walked in the room. "Oh and Y/N? What's going on?"

Ivar isn't here tonight, so we're playing nice. What do you want?" Hvitserk grinned, knowing she was shitting gold bricks.

"Umm, well, I had a bad dream and umm..."

"What are you, fucking 12? Roll the fuck over and go back to sleep. You don't need to call Ivar because of some damn dream!"

"Hvitserk!" Y/N scolded him.

"No, you know I'm right, Y/N, and someone needs to set her ass straight." He turned back to Katia, "He let you stay here because of Alex! Ok? Let's not forget that! Alex convinced him it would be better than you leaving for Russia again. And then, without any apparent conscious of any kind, you go and start playing all the stupid games."

"Games? What games? What are you even talking about, Hvitserk?" Katia tried playing innocent, but she quickly realized it wasn't going to work with him.

Walking a little closer to her, Hvitserk answered her, "You know, damn good and well, what I'm talking about."

"But, Hvitserk, I really d...." She began again.

"Whatever. I really don't give a fuck, anyway, so just whatever," Hvitserk cleared his throat. "Now, what did you need? When you thought it was just Ivar here?"

"Umm, I just l need uh, my medicine," she responded, sounding a bit embarrassed. "Oh, and Hvitserk?"

"Yeah?"

"Despite what you may think of me, I do love your brother, and all I want is for him to be happy."

Y/N name tried to step in front of Hvitserk, but he was too fast. He bent down above Katia, pointing his finger at her, "If that was true, you'd leave him alone. Anyone, who has any sense at all, can see my baby brother is happier than he's ever been. Like it or not, he's in love with Alex, and you, of all people, should know that when Ivar loves, he loves hard. Why would you want to destroy that? You've had your chance, Katia."

"But how can you be so sure Alex can make him happier than I can? He can't provide Ivar with a big family, like he's always wanted. I can."

"Well, for fucking starters, he's never lied to him or manipulated him. He doesn't play games with him and toy with his emotions. He just loves him. Simply. Maybe you could learn a thing or two from him, actually."

"But, Hvitserk," Katia began.

"Ok, that's enough, you two. We're obviously not making any progress like this," Y/N said, finally interrupting her. "Hvits, could you please go get her a glass of water?"

Katia was relieved that Y/N had intervened, "Thank you, Y/N. I'm not sure how much more of that I could take."

Knowing Katia had assumed wrongly of her, Y/N quickly replied, "Oh, just because he left the room doesn't mean you're in the clear. Look, he's right, and you know he is. If you truly love Ivar as much as you say you do, then finally do something selfless for him for a change, and just let him go. You know he's happy. That's why you're doing everything in your power to destroy it, and look, I understand. He's a pretty magnificent man, but you need to come to terms with the fact that your time has passed, and move on." Y/N stared straight into Katia's eyes, making her uncomfortable and causing her to look away. "Katia, I'll be straight forward with you, here," she grinned, "The truth of the matter is, I'm sick of your shit! Period. And where the boys, Alex, Ivar, nor even Hvitserk, can do anything to you, you know they'd never lay a finger on you, I can. It's not beneath me to resort to violence. So, let that sink in, why don't you?"

Hvitserk came in with the glass of water. "What the hell did I miss?" he asked as he saw the scared look on Katia's face and the snarl across Y/N's.

"Oh, nothing," Y/N looked away from her to Hvitserk. "Katia was just saying how sorry she is for all the trouble she's caused." Looking back at Katia, she asked, "Isn't that right, Katia?"

Katia swallowed, her mouth dry, and reached for the water from Hvitserk. "Oh, umm, yes? I guess?" She took her pills and drank nearly all of the water.

"Good. Now, all you need is to stop calling Ivar over a fucking dream like a little girl, and pull your shit together. Good night," Hvitserk said as they walked to the door, and he turned the lights back off. "You can still call if you need anything," he said as he began to close the door, "But, it sure as hell better be something real that you actually need and not some crybaby shit!"

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Ivar got out of his car and leaned back against it, looking at Alex's front door. He started to walk toward it, but then he turned back to his car. He did that at least two more times. What if Alex was still mad? Or worse, what if Alex didn't want to see or talk to him? He knew he couldn't handle much more heartache. He was worried Alex had finally saw what he'd always felt, that he wasn't good enough. He held his head down. What the hell was he even doing here?

He turned around to his car again and opened the car door.

"Are you going to come in, or are you going to dance around in my front yard all night like a mad man?" Ivar heard from behind him.

Ivar turned around, "Oh, umm, Alex. I-I'm, umm, I was just..." Ivar stumbled over his words.

"Pacing a hole in my yard?" Alex half laughed. "Well? Are you gonna come inside?"

Ivar looked up, blushing, "I, umm, I'm sorry. Yes. If that's ok with you?"

Alex motioned at the open doorway, "Ya think?"

Ivar smiled and went to the door. He walked inside and gently closed the door behind him. He stood there at the front door, looking around nervously.

"I won't bite, ya know?" Ivar heard Alex from the kitchen. "I mean, not unless you want me to." They both laughed, and Ivar's nerves eased a little. Alex stuck his head around the corner, "Come in here with me."

Ivar walked into the kitchen and found Alex at the counter with the blender. He sat down on a stool.

"I was about to make some mixed drinks. Want one?" Alex looked at Ivar tentatively.

Ivar swallowed loudly, "Umm, yeah. Uh, yes, please." He watched Alex as he turned around and made the drinks. Alex always made some of the best mixed drinks. He was actually known for it at the bar.

He moved around in the kitchen with flow and ease. He turned back to Ivar for a quick moment and smiled a smile that could only be compared to that of an angel. Damn, Ivar loved that man! He had to make this right.

Alex poured the drinks and turned to give Ivar his. As Ivar grabbed the drink, his hand landed on top of Alex's. He didn't move it but continued to hold onto Alex's hand as they sat the drink down and stared into eachother's eyes. As they let go of the glass, Ivar held Alex's hand in his and never turned away from Alex's gaze.

Holding onto Alex's hand, Ivar pulled him around the counter until he was standing in front of him, still sitting on the stool. He put both of his hands around Alex's waist and pulled him a little closer.

"I'm so sorry," they both blurted out at the same time. "You can go first," they both said, again, at the same time, smiling.

"Ok, ok can I go first?" Ivar asked. Alex nodded his head yes.

Ivar ran his hand through his hair, "Look, Alex, I'm unbelievably sorry for everything with Katia. I promise you that I don't love her anymore. You should know this by now. I only want to be with you. I didn't mean to hurt you, and I hope you can forgive me." Ivar placed his hand on Alex's cheek, and Alex leaned into it before placing his hand over it and gently squeezing. "I'm sorry for how things must have looked. I'm so sorry. But, Alex, I don't want her. I don't love her."

"But it just looked like you did and..."

"Alex, she's the mother of my child. That's all. It's not like that. I..." Ivar interrupted.

"Ivar, let me finish." Alex dropped his head. "It just looked like you did, and Katia knew how it would look, so she just made it worse by rubbing it in my face. I'm so sorry. I overreacted, and I know that. That's the reason I left. I knew I was overreacting, but I couldn't help it, and I didn't want to say something I'd regret." Alex swallowed nervously.

"I do know you better than that, Ivar, and it's embarrassing how I acted, how I let her get under my skin. I hope you can forgive me. It was my idea to move her in, and you even warned me, and then, I turned around and still let her get between us. I'm so sorry."

Ivar was completely stunned. "I, uh, th-this isn't, umm, this isn't exactly how I thought this would go."

Alex stiffened and stepped back away from Ivar. "Oh? I'm uh, I'm sorry."

Ivar stood immediately, recognizing that Alex misunderstood him. "No. No, Alex, that's not what I meant. I, umm, I mean that umm, I was worried that you were still mad with me," he dropped his head in shame. "I know it's just a matter of time before umm, before you finally realize that I'm," he continued to stutter, "That I'm umm, just not good enough, Alex."

Alex stepped back to him, "For what? For me?"

Blushing, Ivar nodded.

"You can't be serious. Of course, you're good enough for me, Ivar! I was mad at you. That doesn't mean I'm no longer mad about you. It doesn't mean I don't want to be with you, or that I don't still love you." He placed his hand under Ivar's chin and raised his head back. "Hey, look at me."

Ivar looked into Alex's eyes, and he instantly pulled him to his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around him. "I love you. I love you so much," he softly said into Alex's ear. "Thank you for loving me." Ivar's heart swelled inside his chest. Saying that he was relieved was an understatement. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Alex pulled back from Ivar and held his face between his hands before leaning in to kiss him. His lips softly grazed Ivar's as they let out all the love and emotion he was feeling.

The unspoken words between them flowed effortlessly through their movements, soft kisses, and gentle touches. Completely lost in eachother, they held eachother tightly, breathing eachother in. "Damn, I've missed you," Ivar whispered.

Alex smiled, "As I have you. I don't want you to leave, but how long can you stay?"

"Y/N and Hvits are at my place. I can stay as long as long as you want."

"Umm, would you, uh, do you want to stay the night?"

Grinning, Ivar answered, "I thought you'd never ask. Of course."

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Both in sweatpants, they crawled into Alex's bed. His head in his hand, propped up on his elbow behind Alex and looking down at him, Ivar softly spoke, his voice small, "Umm, Alex?" He leaned down and kissed Alex on his temple.

"Yes?"

"Umm, would it be ok if we just laid here together, and I held you in my arms?"

Alex's heart skipped a beat. "Of course. You know that's my favorite way to fall asleep."

"Well, umm, I just mean, well, I didn't want you thinking I'm just after one thing. I just want to hold you."

Alex turned in his arms and raised up and kissed him on the cheek. "After all this time, still worried about my virtue?" He placed his hand on the back of Ivar's neck, smiling.

"It's not that I don't want you," Ivar smiled back. "God knows I do. And I hope I don't disappoint you, but more than that, I've just missed you," Ivar blushed.

Alex pulled him closer and gave him a quick peck on the lips before turning back around in his arms, "I've missed you, too, and I can't think of a better way to sleep. I love snuggling with you. It'll have to be better than the last few nights."

"Oh? You, too? I haven't slept at all the last few nights," he ran his hands through Alex's hair. "Actually, I'm quite exhausted."

"Then you better get some sleep, Mister. We have a birthday party to finish planning," Alex squeezed Ivar's arm, wrapped tightly around his waist.

Warmth spread throughout Ivar's body. Alex truly was an amazing man.

As they laid there, wrapped in a blanket of love, they both finally dozed off to sleep.

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Surprised, Ivar woke up the next morning to find Alex still sleeping. He glanced at the clock and noticed it was 9 am. He never slept in.

As if sensing Ivar was awake, Alex stirred in his arms. "Good morning," Alex mumbled.

"Good morning, sleepy head." They both gave a chuckle.

Alex turned, facing Ivar and kissed him. "So the clock already struck midnight, and you didn't run away, so what's on the agenda? Do you have to leave yet?" he laughed but then saw a more serious look on Ivar's face.

Ivar grinned as he pulled Alex into a kiss and then pulled away. "Well, first," he kissed Alex's cheek, "I thought," he kissed Alex's neck as he rolled over on top of him, "We could," he nibbled Alex's ear and then whispered into it, "Make up for some lost time," and he lightly bit the side of Alex's neck just below his ear, sending chills all over Alex's body.

"Oh-ok," Alex said, surprised.

Ivar raised up above him, "Is that ok with you?"

"Definitely," he reached to the table beside the bed, as Ivar rolled to his side, and took the pills. "You have a few minutes to wait, though, don't you?"

"Of course," he smiled lovenly. "I wanted to run something by you anyway."

"Shoot," Alex ran his fingers along Ivar's bare chest.

"Well," Ivar looked down at Alex's hand, "That may be a bit distracting, but I'll do my best." He smiled and grabbed Alex's hand and brought it to his mouth where he kissed his palm. "You know how we were discussing remodeling my basement and making a playroom for Ivy?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, what would you think of making our own playroom instead? We could use one of the spare rooms upstairs for hers. I mean, she's small and wouldn't need the entire basement anyway."

"What do you mean" Alex's eyes widened, "By our own playroom?"

"Exactly what you're thinking," Ivar smiled his devilish grin. "An adult 'playroom,' if you will, for just the two of us. I'd add a keypad with a pass code to get in, and the door would lock automatically behind you. Only the two of us would have the code so we wouldn't have to worry about anyone coming in on us."

"Wow! Aren't you the naughty one! So if it's a playroom, what kind of 'toys,' would we have?" Alex asked as his curiosity grew. He grabbed a handful of Ivar's ass and squeezed. "Would there be toys I could use on you?"

Ivar gulped, "Umm, we could uh, talk about that. And umm, we'd obviously, need a bed and..."

"Not necessarily," Alex's hand moved around to the front of Ivar and grabbed his already hardening cock through his boxers. Ivar's mouth dropped open with a gasp. "We could always use the floor," he began working Ivar through his boxers, "Or the wall," he breathed hot air against Ivar's lips. His lips brushed against Ivar's as he spoke, "And isn't there some kind of work bench already there?"

"Umm humm," was all Ivar could manage to say as the heat rushed through his body.

"Well, we could use that, too. I'd really love to bend you over it." Alex laughed into his ear. "What was that?" he gently slipped his hand inside Ivar's boxers and grabbed him tightly again. "Was that a yes?"

Ivar only breathed heavily, not exactly capable of producing words as Alex's hand moved briskly along his shaft. "Like that, do you? It's been too long, humm?"

Ivar, shifting to his side, managed to reach to his waist with one hand and slip his boxers down and Alex helped him take them the rest of the way off as Ivar's heartrate increased. They then repeated the same with Alex's. Ivar moved back above Alex, caging him with his body and lubing himself up and then Alex.

As he looked down into Alex's eyes, he said, in a sultry voice, "You talk a big game. Now, it's my turn to try to render you speechless." He lined himself up with Alex's twitching entrance.

"Oh? You promise?" Alex flirted.

And with that, Ivar thrusted his hips forward, hard, straight into Alex all at once, only stopping once he bottomed out. Alex's back arched, his eyes closed as his head dug into his pillow, and he yelled out, "Oh, God!"

"No, it's still just me, Ivar, but I can understand how you could be easily confused," he answered, his evil grin looking back at Alex when his eyes sprung open.

Alex smiled at him and rubbed his hand down his back, sending chills all over him.

Ivar began slowly rocking his hips forward and back languorously, watching Alex's every expression. Feeling embarrassed, Alex covered his face, but Ivar grabbed his hand. "Don't. I want to see your beautiful face," Ivar's voice was soft. Alex felt heat rising to his cheeks. "Nothing is more sexy than knowing your pink cheeks are because of me." He placed his hand on Alex's hot cheek as he leaned down and softly kissed his lips, gently nibbling on the bottom one. "I love you."

Alex was taken back by Ivar's tenderness. Although, Ivar was usually like that with him, there was something sweeter about this that Alex couldn't quite place.

Suddenly, Ivar's movements stopped, "What's wrong, Love? Did I hurt you? Are you ok?"

Alex brushed Ivar's hair back out of his face and tucked it behind his ear lovenly. "Nothing is wrong. Actually, I'm kind of perfect, umm, and it's all because of you. Don't worry. And Ivar?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too."

Ivar suddenly felt different somehow. He wasn't sure what was happening, but he knew he just wanted to please Alex. That's all that really mattered to him; not even his own pleasure and release, and that was new to him during sex. He'd always wanted to please Alex, but this was different because he wasn't the least bit concerned about himself.

He slowly began his movements again, never taking his eyes away from Alex's. With every slow stroke into Alex, he just enjoyed the closeness. He interlocked his hand with Alex's that was laying beside him as he rubbed the side of it with his thumb. He held most of his weight on the same elbow as his other hand feathered across Alex's chest, causing goosebumps to appear.

"I can't get enough of the effects I have on your body," Ivar smiled. He ran his fingers lightly across Alex's chest again, admiring, not just the definition, but the flushed red color. "It's intoxicating." All the while, his soft touches were driving Alex wild with desire.

His steady, long, slow stokes into Alex were building the tension in Alex's gut and he knew he was close already. "Maybe you should go a little harder or faster," Alex moaned. "I don.., umm, I don't know how much longer I can last and I want you to finish, too," Alex practically growled the last part.

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine. Just let go. This is about you, not me. I just want to pleasure you. I'm not worried about myself, Love."

"But, Ivar, you deserve to..."

"Shhh," Ivar's lips crashed into Alex's with overwhelming passion. Alex grabbed a handful of Ivar's hair with his free hand and held him forcefully in place, not wanting to break the kiss. They breathed eachother in as their lips massaged the other's. Ivar's hand trailed down Alex's torso to his swollen, throbing cock.

Alex quickly moved his hand out of Ivar's hair and grabbed Ivar's wrist to stop him. Breaking their kiss, he studdered, "N-Not yet. I-I'm too close and sensitive. I want this to last as long as it can."

Nodding in agreance, Ivar moved his hand back up Alex's sweaty chest, stopping to squeeze his nipple between his fingers. Alex's eyes rolled into the back of his head. Ivar continued his feather like touches back up to Alex's cheek, where he rubbed his thumb across Alex's mouth, his plump lips popping lose beneath Ivar's thumb. Smiling at how red his lips were from the kissing, he did it again.

He stared into Alex's eyes intensely, while still slowly moving himself in and out of Alex as his tight walls clinched around him.

Alex took a moment to let his mind wander. He knew that would help him last a few minutes longer, too, and God knows how he wanted it to last! He was enjoying how good he was feeling just a little too much.

He hadn't thought, before now, how erotic it could be with Ivar if they did it all this slowly. But he was surprised. As wonderful as things had been with Ivar, he always remembered how he was when it came to sex. Alex remembered, on more than one occasion, actually, how Ivar had even skipped eating because he was going to have sex with some girl and getting off had always been one of his main priorities.

This was why everyone was so shocked when he'd settled down with Katia. Nobody could believe he was giving up all the one night stands. If Alex was being honest, that was even one of his worries about Katia now. He knew how important she had been to Ivar for him to have given up all that scattered ass.

Now, for Ivar to say he was only concerned about pleasing him and wasn't even worried about himself, Alex knew that it was a major deal. As he thought about the significance, he realized just what Ivar meant by it. He began to really understand just what he meant to Ivar, and he was overcome with emotions. He held back his full emotions, though. He knew that tears during sex with Ivar would not go over well.

He squeezed Ivar's hand, and as Ivar asked, "Are you sure you're ok? Do you need me to stop?" But, not answering Ivar, Alex pulled Ivar to him, hot and sweaty, naked chest against hot and sweaty, naked, chest, and kissed Ivar.

First, he gently grazed his lips, still looking deeply into his eyes, but as he got a taste of Ivar's sweet mouth, he parted his lips with his tongue and let it enter Ivar's mouth to explore. His hand held the side of Ivar's face as the intensity of the kiss increased and their passion grew.

Their breathing sped up, and Ivar reached down between them and grabbed Alex again. He began moving his hand up and down on Alex's length in rhythm with his thrusts, causing Alex to thrust his hips up into Ivar. Alex broke their kiss as he moaned and groaned with pleasure.

Ivar watched intently as Alex's body whithed beneath him, and his face contorted. Alex clawed down Ivar's back, causing his pumping to falter, and his head fell forward, as Alex mumbled out, "Ivar!" between panting.

Ivar continued with his relentless slow movements of hips into Alex as Alex gasped for air. Alex found it so incredibly erotic when he opened his eyes to find Ivar still staring him down as if he was going to devour him like his next meal. His heart skipped a beat. The fierce look in Ivar's eyes made Alex sweat as his toes curled, his legs stiffened, and his back arched again. He dropped his hand from Ivar and gripped tightly into the sheets as his other hand squeezed Ivar's, threatening to stop all blood flow to Ivar's fingers.

Ivar smiled and bit his lip as he realized just how beautiful Alex was as he was coming completely undone. He watched Alex's every muscle tighten and twitch as he slowly drove into him before pulling nearly out and then slowly doing it all over again. He continued to tug on Alex with his sweaty hand acting as lube, his knuckles brushing against Alex's stomach, causing Alex to gasp. As he pressed himself into Alex, inch by inch, Alex made noises that even Alex, himself, did not recognize.

Ivar had never seen a more attractive sight than Alex laying beneath him, squirming and whimpering, unable to form a complete, coherent thought. As he grinned at how he had, indeed, rendered Alex speechless, Alex moaned out, "IVAR! I'm com-coming!" as his chest heaved, and his hand practically dug a hole into the mattress. After reaching his boiling point, Alex's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he lost all control and before he knew it, white streams of his cum shot between their hot, sweaty bodies. Alex started to apologize to Ivar, but Ivar collapsed on top of him, still inside him and ignoring the mess between them, and kissed Alex with overpowering emotions. Alex felt the mixture of love and desire, passion and extasy all wrapped up in the sweet kiss.

Resting his forehead against Alex's, some hair stuck to the side of his face from sweat, Ivar barely broke the kiss and breathed Alex in. He let go of his grip on Alex's hand, and he brought both of his hands to either side of Alex's face. Pushing Alex's hair back away from his face repeatedly for a few seconds, Ivar stared into Alex's eyes again for a long moment before kissing him softly again. Alex's heart melted at Ivar's intense tenderness. It was truly the icing on the cake.

"That was amazing, Love," Ivar softly spoke, almost in a whisper, as he broke their kiss.

Alex cupped his cheek. Desperately trying to catch his breath, he began, "How can you even say that? You haven't had your turn yet." Feeling Ivar still hard and still inside himself, Alex then added, "You know, just because I've already finished doesn't mean you can't keep going. I can handle it."

"Shhh. I told you, this isn't about me. I'm fine. It was amazing just watching you. I enjoy seeing how you react to me. I just wanted to please you."

"Oh, so it's just a power trip for you, humm?" Alex smiled jokingly and then gulped when he saw Ivar's serious expression spread across his face.

"No. I umm, I just love you that much," Ivar dropped his head into the nape of Alex's neck and then turned and kissed his neck with his hot, wet lips. "I just love you."

Alex immediately wrapped his arms around Ivar and held him tightly, "And I love you." He knew he'd think about this entire thing later and analyze the shit out of it. It was so much more than just hot sex with his hot boyfriend. But for now, he'd just enjoy his wonderful, vulnerable, hot boyfriend laying in his arms.

Wild emotions ripped through Ivar like a storm. Of all of the incredible sexual moments he'd had with Alex before, this was, by far, the most unbelievable. And yes, how odd that he hadn't even had his turn, as Alex had put it, but it wasn't even important to him! He just laid there, tightly snuggled up in Alex's arms, and that's all he cared about right now.

Interrupting Ivar's thoughts, Alex, asked, "Hey, all those questions if I'm ok? What about you? Are you ok? You're kind of worrying me."

Ivar raised his head so he could look at Alex again, "I am wonderful, Love," he smiled, warmly. "Umm, you make me, umm," he studdered, "You make me the man I've always wanted to be."

Alex was speechless. Again. As Ivar continued, "Just let me lay here with you. Just let me hold you and just breathe you in."

Alex let Ivar's touching words wash over him like a warm spring in chilly air. He held Ivar even a bit tighter, unable to respond to such tenderness with words. He kissed the top of Ivar's head and ran his fingers through his hair as Ivar snuggled back into the nape of his neck.

They laid like that until they both slowly dozed back off to sleep.

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To their surprise, they didn't wake up for another hour or so. After more sweet caresses and gentle kisses, they showered and got dressed for the day. It took a lot longer than usual because they just weren't able to keep their hands and lips off of eachother. It was like it had been during their first days of being a couple, taking every and any opportunity to touch and feel the other.

"I don't want this to ever end," Ivar smiled shyly at Alex as his face flushed light pink.

"Well, it doesn't have to," Alex responded with a sweet kiss to Ivar's cheek.

Ivar had spoken with Hvitserk earlier. He and Y/N had decided to spend the rest of the weekend with Ivy while Sara worked with Katia. Taking their turn to spoil her was how he'd put it. They'd also volunteered to work at the bar for he and Alex that night. "Y/N thinks you guys just need some more alone time."

Ivar had been concerned about Hvitserk working so closely with alcohol, but he reassured him that he'd be fine because he'd be distracted with the work, and he would have Y/N there for extra support. Only after speaking with Y/N directly and giving her very specific directions did Ivar finally agree to it.

"So, we have the day together? That's awesome! We've finally got some time to ourselves. What do you want to do?" Alex asked him, excitedly.

Ivar raised his eyebrows and grinned at Alex.

Shocked, Alex answered, "You can't be serious."

He walked to Alex, put his arms around his waist, and yanked him to him forcefully as Alex tried to catch his breath. He gave Alex a light kiss, "First, I want to do, again, what we did this morning." He smiled and kissed him on his cheek. "Then, I suppose, we could go see what's going on in town, if you want." He lovenly kissed Alex's jawline. "After that, I want to take you out to dinner somewhere nice," he licked up the side of Alex's neck. "And then, I want to BE dinner. Nothing too crazy. What do you think?" They both laughed.

Alex then realized how very serious Ivar was as their lips smashed into eachother's, their hands interlocked, and Ivar was slowly walking him backwards, toward his room.

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After they spent the rest of the morning in Alex's bed, enjoying eachother, they finally emerged from their blissful haze and actually left Alex's. There was a carnival in town, so they decided to go check it out.

They felt like teenagers again. They played games, ate too much carnival food such as cotton candy and funnel cakes, and, after much convincing that the rides were safe on Alex's part, rode a few of the rides.

As they were in line to get drinks after their last ride, they ran into one of Alex's and Y/N's friends from class. He was with his sister and her two children. "Hey! Alex! How are you? Who is your friend?"

Alex introduced them and they chatted while in line. He was surprised that the two of them were there, but without a kid.

"So the two of you just came to have fun by yourselves?"

Ivar, feeling, surprisingly, a bit territorial of Alex for a reason he couldn't quite pinpoint, answered, holding up their interlocked hands, "Well, this is kind of a date weekend for the two of us. Our daughter is with my brother." He smiled devilishly, and Alex didn't miss it.

Alex was shocked by Ivar's choice of words when referring to Ivy. "Our daughter." It made him feel especially warm and proud.

"Oh, umm," Alex's friend, Paul, answered, "Alex, I umm, I didn't know you were, umm.."

"In love?" Ivar interjected with his intimidating smirk.

Paul looked at Ivar and then back to Alex, "And wow, you two have a child?"

"Yes, her name is Ivy. Her birthday is actually this upcoming week," Alex answered, hoping to calm whatever was going on with Ivar.

"You should come to her party, and bring, who is that? Your children?" Ivar interrupted, to Alex's complete surprise.

"No, they're my niece and nephew and that's," pointing to the woman with the kids, Paul continued, "My sister. My boyfriend and I actually just broke up because he wanted children, and I don't. You guys don't think you're too young to already have a child yourselves? Doesn't that interfere with your relationship? And which of you is her actual, real dad?"

Ivar grinded his teeth together, showing his clinched jaw, and looked to Alex to answer, knowing it was best he didn't at the moment.

"Like Ivar said, she's both of ours. We're both her real dad," Alex squeezed Ivar's hand. "And no, we're not too young. This means we're still young enough to play with her. And she's part of our relationship. She makes everything between us even that more special. I'm sorry you didn't want to experience that with your partner." He raised Ivar's hand that he was still holding and kissed the back of it.

Ivar felt so proud of how Alex answered Paul's questions. Seriously, who did this guy think he was? With his most intimating smirk, Ivar asked, "So, you think you'd like to come to the party next Saturday?" quickly changing the subject.

"I'll talk to my sister and let you know Monday in class, Alex?" Paul finally got the hint.

"Sounds great and I'll bring you an invitation."

He walked away, and Alex turned to Ivar, "What was that all about?"

"What do you mean?" Ivar played innocent.

Alex just looked at him. "What?" Ivar smiled.

"You know exactly what."

"Well, it's obvious he wants you."

Shocked, Alex answered, "What the? Huh? No way! We're just friends. And I didn't even know he was interested in men until right now. "

"Yeah, and now that he's seen you with me, he thinks he has a chance," Ivar snarled.

"Ivar, you seriously have nothing to worry about."

"Oh, I know," Ivar grinned, "I would have never invited him to Ivy's party if I'd thought otherwise." He kissed Alex on the cheek.

"So you were serious?" Alex asked incredulously.

"Of course. You know, keep your friends close and all that shit?" Ivar laughed.

Alex rolled his eyes and took the drinks from the cashier as they walked away. "So Ivy's our daughter, humm?"

Taking his drink, Ivar asked, "Well? Isnt she?"

The rest of the day, into the evening, was spent with them just enjoying eachother's company. Ivar watched Alex's joyful smiles and giggles, and grabbed him up, completely off his feet, to hug him several times. His playfulness was contagious, and Ivar couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so carefree and happy.

He watched Alex play some of the games and how frustrated he'd get when he didn't win. It was really cute. Alex play punched him in the arm, "Stop laughing at me! It's not funny."

Ivar grinned, "Yes, it actually is."

Alex rolled his eyes and continued playing, determined to win. Ivar realized that he was more in love with Alex now than when they first started dating. He didn't know how that was even possible because he'd already never felt like this with anyone else before, but it was true. He'd give his life for Alex. Next to Ivy, there was nobody else on this Earth that he loved more. It kind of scared him, but more so, he was just thrilled to have finally found his soul mate. And that was exactly it. That was why he'd been different with Alex that morning. That's why he didn't care about himself. Alex was his soul mate, and he'd spend the rest of his life making him happy as long as Alex allowed it.

Feeling too emotional for their surroundings, he pushed everything to the back of his mind to deal with later and tapped Alex on the shoulder. "Here, let me show you how it's done."

"What?"

"Watch and learn, Love. Watch and learn." He gave the attendant his money, and she gave him three darts. Looking at Alex and grinning, he threw the first one. He hit one of the balloons, and it pooped.

"You've got to be kidding me," Alex sighed.

"How many do I have to pop to win?" Ivar smiled at the attendant.

"All three for your choice of prize or one more for one of the small stuffed animals."

"Go big or go home. Right, Alex?"

Alex rolled his eyes, "If you say so, but hitting all three isn't as easy as it looks, Ivar."

"Well, let's try and see," Ivar was sure he could get all three. He and Hvitserk used to play this exact game with darts and cans in their backyard when they were younger. When they got too brave and started aiming at cans on eachother's heads, Aslaug stepped in and took the darts away from them, telling them how dangerous and irresponsible it was. It was for this reason that neither of them ever told her about how they'd snuck the darts from her kitchen cabinet and played, secretly, resulting in Ivar having an unwanted ear piercing. He smirked at the memory of how scared Hvitserk had been and how he'd milked it for all it was worth, basically having Hvitserk wait on him hand and foot for the next week until Hvitserk caught on to what he'd been doing.

Ivar aimed and thew the second dart and then the third, popping both balloons. He turned to Alex, "What were you saying? It's not as easy as it looks, humm?"

Alex stood, dumbfounded, "Oh, shut up."

"Well, pick your prize, Love."

Alex smiled and kissed Ivar on his cheek as his face lit up. He picked out a huge, stuffed, pink bear.

Smiling as Alex wrapped his arms around the fuzzy bear, Ivar asked, "So, pink huh? Where are you gonna put it?"

Alex looked at him and laughed, "What? You don't think pink's my color?" He held the bear up to his face and smiled innocently. After laughing at Ivar's curious face, Alex finally said, "Duh, Ivar! This bright pink bear isn't for me! I think it's cute, and I have to admit, I love how soft it is," he cleared his throat as he noticed the strange look in Ivar's eyes, "But it's for Ivy, obviously."

"Oh? Umm, yeah, obviously," Ivar mocked him, smiling.

"It is. That's why I was so frustrated that I kept missing the damn balloons," Alex sighed. "I just thought this would be a nice birthday gift for her from this great day we've had together." And there it was again, that strange look in Ivar's eyes, making Alex nervous. "Umm, did I uh, did I say something wrong? Are you ok? Umm, are we ok?"

Ivar was lost in his thoughts. "Umm, Ivar?" Alex stepped closer and placed his hand on Ivar's shoulder. "Hey, what's going on?"

"Oh, umm," Ivar shook his head as if to snap himself out of whatever trance he was in, "What?"

"Ivar, what's wrong?"

"Wrong? What? Nothing is wrong. Seriously, absolutely nothing."

"Where were you just now? You worried me. You know you can talk to me."

Looking Alex deeply in the eyes, Ivar placed the beer on the counter beside them and pulled him close to him. He wrapped his arms around Alex's waist tightly. Alex wasn't sure what was going on, but he liked it. Ivar finally moved his right hand to Alex's cheek while the other still held him. Just as Alex was beginning to feel even more nervous, Ivar whispered, "I love you," and gave Alex a sweet, passionate kiss, causing him to feel weak in the knees.

When Ivar pulled away from the kiss and rested his head on Alex's, Alex looked up in a daze, licking his lips as if he could still taste the kiss. He wasn't sure what the strange look had been about or why this was how Ivar reacted when asked about it, but he was too lost in a haze to think about it any further.

Still looking into his eyes and practically panting for air, Ivar whispered, "We should go. I've got reservations for us."

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They went back to Alex's to shower and change for what Ivar said would be a nice dinner. They made sure to take their showers in Alex's two separate bathrooms because Ivar said he didn't want to miss their reservations, and he knew if they were together, they definitely wouldn't be leaving on time, if at all. They both laughed in agreement and went to get ready.

Alex finally came into the living room where Ivar was waiting for him. When he saw Alex in his shiny, black suit and opened, white, collared shirt, he gasped.

"What? Do I look ridiculous?"

Moving to his feet and immediately by Alex's side, "No, never. You look quite the opposite, actually. You look stunning."

As Alex's face flushed red, he looked Ivar up and down. He stood there in a dark, grey suit with the collar also open to it. Alex answered, "Well, you don't look too shabby yourself."

Ivar blushed and told him, "Well, I'd really like to kiss you. You don't know how badly. You're so smoldering hot and quite frankly, irresistible, but umm," he licked his lips, "Like I said earlier, I don't want to miss our reservations. The driver is already out front, waiting for us."

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They arrived at a very elegant seafood restaurant just on the outskirts of town. Ivar knew Alex would love it, sushi being his favorite of favorite foods, so he wasn't at all surprised at Alex's reaction.

"Oh my God! Are you serious? You got us reservations here?"

Ivar simply smiled back at him.

"You know how long I've wanted to come here. How did you even get the reservations? Every time I've tried, the closest date is always like six months out. At best."

"Well, I know a guy who knows a guy," Ivar laughed. "You ready?" But Alex was already jumping out of the car before the driver had even opened his own door to get out. "It's ok, Mike. We'll manage. Thank you."

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Dinner was great and their conversation flowed easily, as it always had. They talked and laughed as they ate what Alex said was the best sushi he'd ever tasted and drank some of the most expensive wine. Alex had protested about the wine, but Ivar said, "I want only the best for you. Don't worry about the price. That's none of your concern. Now, drink."

"Yes, sir," Alex smiled warmly, turning up his glass.

As their dinner was nearly over, the lighting in the place got a bit dimmer, and strobe lights came on, illuminating a dance floor. Alex's face instantly lit up as he looked at the dance floor and then back to Ivar. "Don't even think about it, Love. It's not happening," Ivar hadn't even given him a chance to ask.

Alex looked at him with pouty eyes as he saw several other couples make their way to the dance floor, and Ivar glared at him. "Ok, ok. You're not ready," Alex's eyes casted downward, he quietly said, "I understand." He took a big gulp of the last of his wine. "We should probably go then," Alex said, placing his glass back on the table and standing.

"Wait. What? No," Ivar panicked. He hadn't meant to hurt Alex's feelings. But he may have been too vague with his response. "I"m not ashamed of you if that's what you're thinking. I-I'm, ugh, I just..."

"It's ok, Ivar. I'll meet you in the car." Alex began to leave before his emotions were too obvious and took over. "Where you can be with me, and nobody sees you. I've got to get out of here!"

Ivar was immediately up and by Alex's side. He placed his hands on either side of Alex's cheeks, making Alex look him straight in the eyes. "Hey, hey. Wait. Calm down. What is it, Love? Why would you even think I give a fuck about people seeing us together? You know I love you, and I could care less what anyone else thinks about that."

Alex blushed and pulled back from Ivar. "Well, it's obvious that you're embarrassed by even the thought of dancing with me." He cleared his throat, "So, you're off the hook. You don't have to." Alex looked away from him.

"Alex, I'm not embarrassed by you. I'm umm," he began to stutter, and Alex looked back at him, confused. "I'm embarrassed at the thought of dancing in front of all these people. You know I can't dance."

Alex's snarl softened into a smile. "Oh, Ivar," he placed his hand on Ivar's cheek,"You don't have to do anything fancy, and we could wait for a slow song. Nobody is paying us any attention." Ivar leaned into Alex's hand. "But it's ok. Let's just go. I want you to myself anyway."

Ivar knew he'd hurt Alex's feelings, and he felt really bad about it. It hadn't been his intentions. He started to walk with Alex, reaching down to hold his hand, and then he suddenly stopped in his tracks. He pulled Alex to him. "I'm not going to get in my head about this. You want to dance, let's go dance." He kissed Alex on the cheek and turned back around and pulled Alex in his direction.

"Wait. Ivar. No, it's ok," Alex said as he was trailing behind Ivar, but Ivar didn't even acknowledge he'd spoken and continued walking until they reached the dance floor.

As Ivar stepped onto the floor, Alex stood there in shock. Ivar held his hand out and said, "Well, come on, Love. What are you waiting on?"

"Umm, ok. I guess we're doing this," and Alex joined Ivar who pulled him flesh with his body and wrapped his arms around Alex's waist. "What changed, Ivar?"

"Umm, I just realized what I already knew. If I'm with you, umm, well, nothing else matters." He placed his head in the bend of Alex's neck and rested his head on his shoulder as their two bodies began to sway in sync.

Then, a familiar song began to play. "All My Life." That was the song that Ivar had said made him think of Alex, and he instantly smiled. He raised his head up as he rested his cheek against Alex's. With his left arm around Alex's back and shoulders, he squeezed him a little tighter. His right hand held Alex's, and he brought it up between them, against his chest, and held it there, leaning down and kissing the back of Alex's hand.

Ivar began humming along with the song as they slowly danced. Alex's heart was pounding so hard he was sure Ivar could feel it against his own chest. Then, as if an angel singing a hymn from the heavens, Ivar began to softly sing along into Alex's ear. "All my life I've prayed for someone like you. And I thank God that I finally found you..." A single tear slowly rolled down Alex's cheek. Ivar never sang in front of anyone intentionally, and Alex knew this. To say he was surprised that Ivar was singing, not only to himself, but directly to him, right in his ear, was a major understatement. Alex didn't say a word but just listened to the beautiful, angelic sound.

As the song was ending, Ivar turned his head toward Alex. As Alex froze, Ivar leaned down and gently kissed his lips. It was only a matter of seconds before Alex was kissing him back, both lost completely in the other.

For a moment, it was as if the two of them were the only ones in the room. Their dancing stopped and all movement, as well, except for their kiss.

Eventually, Alex noticed the song had stopped, and now there was a more upbeat song playing. He slowly opened his eyes and reluctantly pulled a little away from Ivar's delicious lips. Around them, he saw the people dancing in rhythm along with the fast music while he and Ivar stood motionless, forehead against forehead, arm in arm, hand in hand, bodies still tightly snug against eachother.

Alex looked at Ivar, who hadn't taken his eyes off of him, as he smiled and said, "We're the only ones not moving, aren't we, Love?"

Blushing, Alex answered, "Yes."

"We should probably go now," Ivar laughed, and the two of them walked back to the table to get their suit jackets. Ivar leading the way, hand in hand, they walked out to find their driver and left for Alex's place.

The car ride to Alex's was intense. Ivar scooted closer to Alex and wrapped his arm around him, pulling him close. "I want you so badly," he whispered into Alex's ear and licked down his neck with a gentle graze of his teeth, causing Alex to shiver.

"The feeling is mutual," Alex softly said back to him. Placing his hand on Ivar's cheek, he leaned over and kissed him quickly on his other cheek. "I can't wait to get you home."

The rest of the ride was spent with gentle touches, heavy breathing, intense stares, and deep kisses. Just as they both felt they could take no more, they finally arrived at Alex's.

As Alex finally unlocked the door, Ivar practically shoved him into the apartment, backwards into the wall, frantically kissing him. He was instantly removing Alex's suit jacket and then his own. As they dropped to the floor, Alex leaned forward and locked the door behind Ivar. "I've seriously missed this," Alex softly said just as Ivar's lips crashed into him again.

Pieces of their clothing went flying, one by one, as they made their way to Alex's room. "I'm all yours," Alex said between kisses, "Have your way with me."

"Fuck!" Ivar panted, "I fucking plan on it."

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Standing in the kitchen and trying not to sound as sad as he actually felt, Alex said, "Well, I guess we're back to reality, huh?"

"What do you mean? This entire weekend has been our reality, Alex."

Alex hesitated, "Well, you know what I mean. You leaving to go back home, and me just dropping by to visit you and Ivy after class."

Ivar didn't really get what Alex was insinuating.

"Ivar, umm," Alex's hands were sweaty as he tried to put everything in the best way he could without hurting Ivar, "I think I should give you three some space. You know, just give Katia the time she really needs to accept that we're together no matter what kind of fit she pulls, and let her see that it won't change even if I'm not always there."

Ivar's mouth just dropped as he listened to Alex in disbelief. "Also, maybe it will do her some good for me to not be there as much and her maybe feeling like I'm constantly rubbing it in her face. Maybe that's why she got so defensive and territorial over you to begin with."

Ivar couldn't believe how selfless Alex was, selfless, yes, but it was a very naive way of of thinking.

He stood up and walked around the counter and placed his hand on Alex's shoulder, "Love, how very thoughtful of you. Really, it's one thing I really love about you. But, umm, you do know who we're talking about here, dont you? You're so very considerate, but I honestly believe she's going to do whatever she thinks will win me over whether you're there or not." He kissed Alex on the forehead. "And I, personally, would prefer you're there with me. Maybe the better choice is that I talk to her again, and make sure she remembers that she's only there on borrowed time."

Alex shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, I understand you being apprehensive. How about this? What if I talk to her, and we just play it by ear. If you think things are too tense and would prefer to come back home, I won't stop you. You're already here a couple of nights a week anyway, so if you absolutely have to add another or two, I'll try my best to understand and not take it personally. This will be a busy week anyway with getting everything finished for Ivy's birthday party next weekend."

Ivar pulled Alex into a hug. "Just promise me that you won't umm, leave for good, that you won't leave me." Ivar shuddered at even the thought. "I can't handle even thinking about life without you. I love you, and I need you in my life. Always."

Alex choked back a tear, "Ivar, please don't tell me that after the amazing weekend we've had, you actually still think I could leave you," Alex said into Ivar's chest, still wrapped in his strong arms.

Ivar pulled him back and looked into his eyes, "I, umm, I feel it's just a matter of time before you see what I already know." Ivar dropped his head and looked away.

"And just what is that, exactly?" Alex gently turned Ivar's head back toward him so he could see his face.

Trying to avert Alex's piercing eyes but eventually giving in, Ivar finally answered him. "Umm, well, that you-you're umm, you're too good for me and deserve better." His face flushed bright red as he tried to pull away from Alex, but Alex tightened his grip around Ivar's waist.

Placing his hand on Ivar's cheek, Alex told him, "Ivar, what are you talking about? There's never been anyone more perfect for me. My love for you isn't that shallow, and I can't see me happier with anyone else on this planet. I love you. Ok? That's not going to change over some ridiculous argument or anything like that." He pulled Ivar to him and gave him a tight hug. "Do not worry about such things. You're stuck with me. I'm not going anywhere. You can't get rid of me that easily," Alex laughed.

Ivar smiled despite himself. Alex's words helped him, but he knew the thought would remain in the back of his head. He'd just have to push it far back and try to ignore it.

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Ivar was right. The next week was really busy. No matter how much Katia protested, and Alex couldn't tell if she was being sincere or not, Ivar pulled out all the stops for his baby girl. Katia told him how she was too young for anything to matter to her, and that she wouldn't remember any of it anyway, but Ivar insisted that nothing was too big or too much for his princess.

Ivy loved bouncing, so Ivar rented out a small, indoor trampoline park for the entire Saturday afternoon. There wasn't a large amount of people coming to the party, just close friends and family, but Ivar also had a catering company lined up to bring food.

Ivar spoke to Katia as he'd told Alex he would. She didn't say much. She just listened to him. He wasn't sure she really accepted the gravity of his words, so he told her, "Katia, I get that you wanted things to work out a different way and I'm sorry it hasn't, but you're going to have to accept this. It's not going to change. I also need you to understand that Ivy is the reason youre here at all. I can't have you living in my home, and this is temporary, remember, and treating Alex the way you have. It will not be tolerated anymore." Katia had only nodded her head and told him ok. He saw her expression chnage, but she nevwr said anything else. That made Ivar a bit nervous for what she really meant, but he decided to just leave it alone. For now.

Ivar and Alex spent most of their evenings that week at the trampoline park, decorating for the party. Alex had went home to his own place almost every night, against Ivar's will, but Ivar didn't protest against it like he said he wouldn't.

Admittedly, that had been very difficult for Ivar, so he was extremely pleased when Alex told him, "Do you mind if I stay at your place tonight? I'm honestly just too tired for us to go all the way back to my place when yours is so much closer."

"Oh, so it's just a matter of proximity, humm? That's the only reason you'll finally stay with me?" Ivar mused.

"Oh, you know better than that," Alex smiled. "I mean, yes, your place is closer, but umm, I also miss you."

Blushing, Ivar pulled him close and gave him a kiss, "Well, let's go."

To Alex's surprise, Katia had seemed mostly nice all week when the three of them had been together. She did seem a bit on edge, but he'd noticed, just when he thought she may say something, she'd retreated to her room, saying how she was really tired suddenly. She hadn't said or done anything out of the way. Yet. He knew he'd never trust her again. But he also hadn't stayed over night all week either, so he knew this would be the true test.

When the two of them arrived at Ivar's, Alex hesitated by the car door. Ivar walked over to him, "Everything ok, Love?"

Wiping his sweaty hands on his pants legs, Alex answered, "I, umm, well, I just don't want any problems. I hope she's already in bed."

Ivar hugged him and reassured him, "You have just as much a right to be here as she does. This is my house and if I have to remind her, I will. You don't have anything to worry about, Love. I told you, she seemed to understand everything when I talked to her. You'll be fine."

Alex gave him a quick kiss and told him, "Thank you, and I'm sorry for adding more stress for you."

Ivar grabbed his hand and told him not to worry about it as they headed to the front door.

Katia was in the kitchen as they walked inside. "Hey, Ivar, sweetheart," Alex just squeezed Ivar's hand as he heard her, "I made some of your favorite food for dinner and was just cleaning my plate. Please come in, and have a seat. I'll make your plate. I figured you'd be really tired."

She continued talking as the two of them stood at the kitchen counter behind her. Ivar cleared his throat as Katia turned around. "Alex is staying the night because you're right. We're exhausted."

Her eyes widened as Ivar pulled a stool out for Alex, and the two of them sat down. "Umm, ok. Uh, hey, Alex. Would you like a plate, too?" Katia asked him as she sat Ivar's plate in front of him.

Alex looked to Ivar, who nodded to him, then answered, "Umm, sure. Thank you, Katia."

She made Alex's plate and gave it to him. "Umm, Ivar, you can clean up here when you two are finished? I'm going to bed, and Ivy's already asleep in her room."

"Umm, uh, sure. Thank you, again, for dinner, Katia. And umm, Ivy?" Ivar asked her.

"Sara took her up before she left. Umm, good night, guys." Katia left the room without another word.

Alex stared blankly at Ivar who had the same expression on his face. They sat for a moment before Ivar finally said, "Think she is finally getting the picture and understanding that you're not going anywhere?"

They both sat for another moment, and as Alex smiled, they both said at the same time, "No way!" They laughed and finished their meal.

After eating, they cleaned up the kitchen together and then went to bed. It was only minutes before they were wrapped in eachother's arms, passionately kissing. Ivar pulled away and softly said, between panting, "I missed you."

"We were just together Sunday, Ivar."

"I know. A lifetime ago. I've missed you," he laughed and kissed Alex again, wondering if he would even last until he could get Ivar's boxers and sweats off of his glorious, hot body.

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It was finally the day of Ivy's party. They closed the bar for the night to be able to properly celebrate. You would have thought it was Ivar's Odin himself was coming to visit or something. He was running around in nearly a panic.

"Ivar," Alex stopped in front of him and placed his hands on his shoulders, "I know it's her first birthday, but it's going to be perfect. Everything is going to be fine. I've got everything in the car already. Breathe."

"But what about her dress for the pictures?"

"I have it."

"And the other clothes that she can mess up when she gets her birthday cake and to play in?"

"I've got that, too."

"And her shoes? And oh my God, I almost forgot my camera. How am I going to take pictures if I forget my camera?"

"Ivar, I have her shoes and your camera and your camera bag along with the charger and even batteries as a backup. I've got it. Just relax."

"What about..."

"Ivar, the candles, lighter, and knife to cut the cake all comes with the cake order. Remember?"

Ivar finally stepped back and sat on a stool at the kitchen counter. Alex smiled at him as he saw him take a deep breath and run his hand down his face.

"Chill. We got this."

At that moment, Katia came out of her room with Ivy. "Dada!" Ivar was by Katia's side immediately, as Ivy reached for him, and took her into his arms.

"She's ready. I just need my purse, and I'll be ready, too."

"How's daddy's big girl? Humm? Are you ready to celebrate?" Ivar kissed her on top of her head, and she smiled up at him. "Happy birthday, my little princess."

As Katia came back out of her room, Alex looked over to her and saw his same expression of adoration spread across her face. It unnerved him, but he looked back at Ivar and Ivy and instantly felt better. He knew now wasn't the time. Breaking him from his thoughts, Ivar asked, "Shall we go, now?"

"Actually, can I give Ivy her gift from me first? Well, I guess it's from us, really, isn't it?" He laughed. Ivar had forgotten about it, and looking at his watch, he told him yes.

Alex ran upstairs and came back down, quickly, with the big, pink bear Ivar had won for him the Saturday before. Ivar took Ivy over to Alex in the living room floor as Katia stood and watched.

"You want to see what Alex got for you, Sweetheart?"

"What we got for her," Alex corrected him.

Ivy reached for Alex, saying, "Ale!"

Ivar stood her in front of the huge stuffed bear, holding her sides, and she looked up at them both and giggled. She flopped forward with her arms stretched wide, saying "Mine."

Ivar and Alex told her yes, and she enjoyed rubbing it by moving her face back and forth into it. It was so cute, Ivar kissed Alex, and told him, "Thank you, Love. That was so thoughtful to think of her during our date."

Katia cleared her throat, and Ivar looked over to her, still standing and watching, critically. He saw the look of disgust across her face. He glared at her, but didn't say anything. "I'm going on out, guys." She said rolling her eyes.

Alex completely ignored her and continued playing and laughing with Ivy. Ivar clinched his teeth together to prevent himself from saying anything to her on Ivy's birthday. He didn't want to ruin her day before it had really even begun.

Alex, knowing this and seeing the look of murder across Ivar's face, finally said, "I think we should get going, right, Ivar? We don't want her to be late for her own party."

Ivar, recognizing Alex was right, scooped Ivy up and into his arms and told her it was time to go. She only giggled at him. They finally got Ivy in the car and headed to the trampoline park.

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Aslaug was already there and greeted them at the door. She took Ivy to change her clothes for pictures as Alex and Ivar unloaded the car. Katia came in with her.

For as long as Alex had known Ivar, he'd had an eye for capturing the perfect picture. He just naturally knew how to take the simplest scene and angle the camera in such a way that the lighting would look chosen and fine tuned, and he'd then produce the most beautiful pictures, people always being his favorite thing to photograph. You could always see his passion for photography in his finished product, but with Ivy as the subject, Alex knew the pictures were going to be outstanding.

Aslaug brought Ivy out, and Ivar had her place her on the mat with the small, colorful balls that he'd brought over from the ball pit. Her dress was purple velvet trimmed in sparkling black with tights and shoes to match. As Alex watched her pick up one of the balls and smile too widely for her small face, he couldn't deny how absolutely adorable she looked. He looked over to Ivar, who exuded love and excitement mixed with pride and a ball of nerves, as he snapped picture after picture. Alex stepped to him and softly said, "She's absolutely gorgeous, Ivar." Ivar glanced at him and smiled. "Just like her daddy," Alex added as he kissed Ivar on his cheek, causing him to blush.

At that moment, Ivy threw the ball towards them and then clapped her hands as Ivar continued snapping away.

Alex rolled the ball back to her and said, "Catch, Sweetheart." As the ball rolled right up to her, she grabbed it and said, "Ale!" melting Alex's heart.

Aslaug covered her mouth in surprise, "I didn't know she could say your name, Alex. That's precious." She winked and smiled at Alex, thoroughly surprising him as he felt his cheeks redden.

"Ale!" Ivy said again, this time reaching toward him.

"Aww, she wants you, Alex. You should go to her. I'm sure Ivar will make some incredible shots of the two of you."

Still surprised, Alex answered, "Oh, uh, no. This is Ivy's day. That's ok. I'll just watch from here."

Ivar turned to him as Ivy threw another ball in their direction, laughing and clapping. "She's right, Love. Ivy wants to play with you. It will make for some sweet photos. I mean, if you want to."

"Ale!" Ivy reached for him again. "Puh-ease," she motioned for him to come to her.

"That's another new word, sweetie," Alex encouraged her. "You're such a smart girl." He sat with her, and they began rolling the balls back and forth, Ivy's small giggles filling the room. Ivar's heart swelled as he continued snapping pictures.

Katia entered the room and stood, watching. Aslaug noticed how she was visibly on edge, and she could only assume why. Aslaug stepped closer to her. "Ivar will take photos with anyone else who wants them with Ivy, too, Dear. You should be next," Aslaug said softly as she placed her hand on Katia's shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

"Thank you," Katia batted away tears.

"Are you ok?" Aslaug asked, genuinely concerned.

"It's umm, you know. It's uh, it's just hard. I'm trying, but it's just so hard."

"Oh, I know, Dear. Just take it one day at a time."

"I know I really messed things up, and it's too late, now. Watching him, umm, it just breaks my heart. That should've been me. I'll never find anyone who loves me like he did, and I just threw it away like it was nothing."

Aslaug hugged her, "Oh, Katia. Dear, never say never. You have no idea what the future holds."

Katia's eyes lit up. Was it possible that Aslaug wanted them back together, too? Oh, of course she did. Alex can't give her anymore grandchildren. That's basically what Aslaug was saying, right? Maybe she should continue her plan to make Alex's life difficult enough that he'd just finally leave without Ivar ever even knowing she'd done it. She'd be there for Ivar afterwards, and he'd see how much she truly loves him.

Without warning, Katia went to stand at the side of the mat where Ivy and Alex sat, playing. "Umm, could I get some pictures with our daughter, too?" She asked, looking at Ivar.

Surprised at her tone, he answered, "Sure, in just a moment when she's finished with Alex."

Alex looked up at Katia and then to Ivar. Feeling bad for the way she'd just thrown Ivar in the middle of whatever game she was playing at now, he said, "Umm, no. It's ok. We can take more pictures later. I need to get up from here anyway before my legs fall asleep." He nervously laughed as he stood.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Alex," Katia began with false sweetness dripping from her words, "I can definitely wait until you're finished."

He walked to Ivar, as Ivy called for him several times. "No, you go ahead. It's fine. Ivy, we'll play again shortly. It's mommy's turn now." When he reached Ivar, he sat down beside him with a sigh.

"Thank you, Love. I'm sorry. That was so rude."

"It's ok. She's Ivy's mom. I can understand her wanting to be with her."

"And this is just another reason I love you," Ivar smiled.

People began coming, so Alex left Ivar to greet them. Ivy's birthday gifts began to pile up as people passed the gift table to go pose for photos. Alex loved that Ivar got to use one of his favorite pass times with his beloved daughter.

As he watched them and all the cute faces Ivy was making, a voice interrupted his thoughts. "Hey, Alex. You remember my sister, Emilie, don't you?"

Alex turned to see Paul, from class, with his sister and her two kids. "Hey, Paul. I'm surprised you actually came. Come on in. The kids are getting ready to go jump. Finally." Pointing to Aslaug, he told him, "That's Ivar's mom. See her for the socks and have a great time."

Paul's sister stuck her hand out to shake Alex's, "Hi, umm, he insisted that we were invited and should come for the kids to enjoy themselves. I hope it's ok."

"It's definitely ok. Ivar invited you guys personally last weekend." Alex motioned toward Aslaug for them to get socks.

Suddenly, the kids went running to the jump space. There weren't many, maybe 8 or 10, and all so tiny, but they nearly knocked Ivar down as he was walking with Ivy in his arms, toward Alex. "Hey, hey, guys, slow it down some," Ivar said to them in vain as they passed.

Just as Ivar reached Alex, the front door swung open. There stood Sigurd, a young toddler, maybe 2 or 3 years old, and a pregnant, blonde girl. Ivar stopped in his tracks, in complete disbelief. "Hi, Ivar. Umm, this is Anja, my girlfriend, and this little guy is Mika."

"What the fuck are you doing here, Sigurd?"

"Nice to see you, too, little brother. Hey, Alex. And uh, Mom invited us."

"Of course she did," Ivar shook his head. He pointed his finger in Sigurd's face, "I promise you, if you do or say anything to ruin my Ivy's birthday, I will personally end you. I'll mutilate and dismember your body so badly that not even mom will be able to identify your mangled body in the morgue. I'll fucking gut you myself!Understood?" Alex gulped and Anja swallowed loudly. Ivar turned to her, "Nice to meet you, Anja. You're welcome to come in. Get some socks for Mika and let him play with the other kids." He glanced at Alex, "I'll be back. I'm taking Ivy to play."

Alex began to speak, but just at that moment, Hvitserk walked up. As he turned to Alex, he noticed who was standing on front of him. "What the fuck!" Trying to disregard Sigurd, Hvitserk said, "Alex, I was coming to tell you that your mom is here and was looking for you, but before I leave you," he turned to Sigurd, "You better not start your shit with Ivar today. You understand me? I won't hesitate to kick your fucking ass right here in front of," he looked to Anja, "Your girl and your kid and whoever the fuck else wants to watch. Got it?"

Sigurd smiled and began to speak, but Hvitserk held his hand up to his face, "Save it," and he walked away.

Sigurd told Anja, "That was my other brother, Hvitserk. Isn't he lovely?"

"Wow! When you told me you weren't too popular with your brothers, you weren't joking, were you?"

-

The party seemed to be going well. Everyone was talking and laughing and the kids were still jumping. Alex left Ivar and Ivy to go get a glass of water.

As Alex turned to go back, he noticed Katia with Ivar and Ivy, so he stopped. He stood and watched them. He knew she needed to spend time with them together, too, but it sure stung.

Alex then felt an arm on his shoulders and a hand on gently squeeze. "It's a wonderful thing you're doing for him, Sweetie," his mom's voice said softly beside him. "That's true love. I know it's not easy, but Ivy can only benefit from the three of you loving her like you do and doing your best to get along."

"Thanks mom. It's, umm, well, Katia doesn't always make it the easiest."

"Oh, I'm sure. Just be strong. She's just testing you. And Alex?"

"Yes, mom?" he answered, watching Ivar and Katia walk along the trampoline, holding Ivy's hands so she can easily jump.

"You know how much that man loves you, don't you?" Completely surprised at what he'd heard her say, he turned to look at her. "Because everyone else around you two, including Katia, can see it. Have faith in that, sweetheart. He's not going anywhere." She kissed him on his temple and walked back to his dad.

Alex just stood there and let his mom's words wash over him. He felt really proud at how accepting she clearly was of the whole situation of him being with a man and, now, one who had a child and a crazy ex. It warmed his heart, and she just didn't know just how badly he'd needed to hear everything she said.

As he watched Ivar and Katia more, he noticed how she just actually seemed to be there for Ivy. Several times she'd placed her hand on Ivar's arm or shoulder, and he subtly pulled away from her each time. She appeared to just stop trying to get his attention and began to focus hers on her baby girl. Things didn't seem so bad when she was with Ivar like that, just as Ivy's mom and nothing more. He sincerely hoped they'd eventually get to a place when that really was all that was there.

"Is that broad the mom of your daughter?" Paul was suddenly at Alex's side, disturbing his thoughts.

"Umm, yeah. That's Katia, Ivar's ex and Ivy's mom."

"Woah! Man! I thought she was your child. So her mom is his ex?"

Annoyed, Alex simply answered, "Yes."

"Wow, man. I'm impressed. I don't know how you do it. That would kill me, seeing my man with his ex and their baby. How do you not feel like the third wheel?" He looked over to Alex, "I guess I mean, the fourth wheel. I mean, look at them. The three of them look like a happy little family. I'd never known they weren't still together had I not known who you are to him. Dude! I'm amazed that you don't just feel like crawling under a rock somewhere. You must really love him, huh?"

Alex could only hope that Paul meant well, but his words hurt like a double edged sword. He was just a bit daft and obviously, completely without tact. Alex began to walk away from him before he lost his cool as he heard Ivar call his name. He turned to see Ivy in Katia's arms, but reaching for him as she called out, "Ale! Puh-ease! Ale!" How could he say no to that?

Ivar motioned for him to come to them and then, to his surprise, so did Katia.

Alex joined them back on the trampoline mat, leaving Paul where he stood, and Katia instantly said to him, "She really wants you, Alex. You want to take her?"

He tried to hide his surprise with Katia's generosity as he held his arms out. Ivy practically jumped to him, and she giggled as they laughed at her.

Alex and Katia each held one of Ivy's hands and let her jump up and down. The smile across her face was contagious. Alex tried to ignore how nervous he was at Katia's kindness. Surely, this was sincere and not just another way to maneuver herself into Ivar's life the way she wanted to be. He smiled at her, and she smiled back, looking over his shoulders. Alex turned to see what she was looking at, and he saw Y/N and Hvitserk standing there, pretending not to be watching them.

Of course, Hvitserk had said something to her. That definitely explained her change in attitude. It made Alex feel sick, but as he looked at Ivar's smiling face, watching them getting along for the sake of their love for his daughter, he couldn't really do or say anything. Now, wasn't the time.

Hvitserk brought Ivar his camera and winked at Alex. Ivar instantly began snapping more photos. Defeated, Alex gave in and just enjoyed the moment. No matter how fake it actually was.

Unbeknownst to them, Sigurd was watching them. "I can't tell, exactly, which one is faking it. Is it Katia or Alex?" he snidely asked Ubbe.

"Oh, it's definitely Katia. Don't you remember how she's always been? Don't let the kid fool you. She's still just as manipulative as she was back then."

"Is Ivar still a blinded fool?"

"I honestly don't think he is. He's in love with Alex, and her shit doesn't seem to phase him anymore."

"Yeah, this thing with Alex? When did that happen? Who would've thought our little brother would be a queer?"

Ubbe smacked him in the back of the head, "Don't start your shit, or I promise you, I'll.."

"Beat my ass yourself?" Sigurd finished Ubbe's sentence. Ubbe smiled and nodded yes. "Actually, I see Ivar differently. He does look genuinely happy and in love. It's fucking disgusting." They both laughed.

The rest of the party had been a lot of fun. Alex got his turn with Ivar's camera when Ivar sat with Ivy and helped her open her gifts. She clapped, smiled, and giggled at nearly every gift. It was precious, and Alex was proud Ivar trusted him to capture the moment as Ivar had been teaching him a little about photography.

By the time everyone had eaten and had cake, several people were already leaving. Ivar invited whoever wanted to come back to his place for, "the adult part of the party," and they began packing up to leave. Alex and Ivar both were really happy that Ivar had the foresight to have paid the little extra for someone else to clean up after the party and bring it all back to Ivar's. They were both pretty tired.

As they made their way to the door, they were met by Alex's parents. Thank you, Son, for having us. We enjoyed our time with you all, but I think we're going to head on home," his mom told Ivar as she hugged him and kissed his cheek.

"Aww, won't you drop by my place for a bit? We'd love to have you. Just have one drink with us, and then, we'll let you go if you want,"

She looked to Alex and then to his dad, who both nodded. "Well, if you're sure we won't be intruding. I know most of your guests will be your family, Ivar."

"Mama Hogh, you're Alex's family, therefore, you two are my family as well," he said as he hugged her again. "You've always been my family, but you didn't realize that you seriously do have a second son, now?" Ivar laughed.

Alex felt his heart swell. He didn't have words for how Ivar's words made him feel, but he sure did love hearing them. He grabbed Ivar's hand and kissed his knuckles as they headed to the cars.

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Once at Ivar's, Alex scanned the room. The few who came back were really just Ivar's family and Alex's parents. As he continued looking around, he noticed Paul sitting on the sofa. He was surprised, but Ivar had actually invited everyone so he walked over to him. "Hi Paul."

Paul stood, "Umm, I didn't realize this was just a family thing, Alex. I'm sorry. I'm gonna head out."

Alex handed him a beer, "Don't worry about it. You were invited just like everyone else." He took the drink and sat back down.

Ivar took Ivy to her bedroom upstairs. She didn't even wake up when he got her out of the car. He knew she'd be tired after such a long day, but he was kind of surprised at just how tired. Once he had her settled in her bed, he leaned down and kissed her forehead, "Happy birthday, Baby Girl. I love you."

As he walked to her door and gently closed it behind him, he turned into Alex. "What a day, huh?" he said as he smiled at the sweetness he'd just witnessed.

"What?" Ivar shyly asked.

"You know how I love seeing you with Ivy. That's all." Ivar's cheeks reddened, but he didn't say a word. "Actually, I just wanted to let you know that Paul is here, too. I didn't know how you'd feel about it, so I just wanted to tell you."

Ivar's jaw clinched as he spoke through his teeth, "I told you what he's after. You just watch yourself around him. I'd hate to have to dismember him." He didn't even smile as the words rolled so easily off his lips. "I don't trust him, but it's ok. I mean, I did invite everyone." He then backed Alex into the wall and kissed him. "He's just jealous that he can't do that," he laughed.

In a bit of a daze, Alex smiled. "He definitely can't. That would be gross." They both laughed and returned to the party.

Everyone was talking, laughing, and having a good time. Alex looked around and decided to pick up the empty bottles and take them out to the recycle bin in the garage. From the kitchen, talking with Ubbe and Hvitserk, Ivar saw him and turned to offer to help. Alex told him not to worry about it, that he could get it, so Ivar continued his conversation with his brothers.

As Alex rounded the corner with the box of empty beer bottles, he heard Katia and Aslaug talking. Instinctively, he stopped and listened. "Yeah, well, I know, but how could Alex ever provide you with any more grandchildren, Aslaug? I know Ivar has always wanted nothing more than to have a home full of little ones running around. I can give him that. And I know that would make you just as happy as it would him. You know he still loves me. He'll always love me. I gave him his first child."

"I, umm, well, I can't say if you're right or not," Alex heard Aslaug's response. "I know he'll always love you in his special way, Katia, but.." she stopped talking when Alex stumbled just outside the door, causing the bottles to bang together. "What was that?" Aslaug asked Katia as Katia basically disregarded her.

"I don't know, but you were saying you also think Ivar still loves me? Doesn't that mean he just needs to hear it from you? Maybe he just needs to know how you feel about him being with Alex, a man of all people. What was he thinking? I'm sure if he knew how you really feel, he wouldn't be so sure about their relationship. I mean, if that's what you want to call it." Katia continued talking as Aslaug moved around the work table in the garage, toward the door. "I mean, don't you think you should tell Ivar the truth about what you think about him and Alex?"

"What? Oh, uh, umm-humm," Aslaug was finally standing at the doorway just as Alex was stepping through it, and they nearly ran into eachother. "Oh! Alex!"

His eyes full of tears that he was desperately trying to hold back, he stepped around her and placed the box of empty beer bottles on the table. "Umm, I was, uh, just bringing this to the recycle bin. Umm, I-I'm uh, I didn't mean to umm, to interrupt your umm, conversation." Alex quickly sat the box down and turned to walk out.

"Oh, Alex, Dear," Aslaug began, but Alex held his hand up, palm facing her, in an effort to tell her not to waste her voice and to back off. He turned and immediately walked out of the garage, hearing both Aslaug and Katia calling after him.

As he entered the bathroom in the hallway, he faintly heard Katia's lies, "Alex, come back. I'm sorry. I can explain. It's not what you think."

He didn't bother to open the door or to answer her. He knew he needed to pull it together. This was not the time for Ivar to learn of the shit Katia and his own mom were spitting about the two of them.

It completely broke Alex with the cold and heartless way Katia had spoken about him as if she were discussing the weather and that Aslaug never once even attempted to defend him or even her own son. He could at least spare Ivar from the same pain, at least for now.

He wondered if what Katia had said was true. Did Ivar still love her? Is that why he had agreed to let her stay? Was she the one Ivar should be with after everything? She was right about one thing, though, for sure. He definitely couldn't give Ivar more children. They'd never talked about any long term goals. He didn't know if Ivar really longed for more children or not. How could he stand in the way of that if it was really what he wanted?

Standing in front of the mirror, hands gripping the sides of the sink, Alex looked at himself and wiped his tears with the back of his hand. Flipping on the water, he splashed cold water on his face. "Get a grip, Alex. You've got this," he lied to himself.

After a few more minutes in the bathroom, he finally came out to find Y/N standing there, waiting on him. "What the fuck happened? What did she do this time?" She asked him, anger visible across her face.

"Nothing. It's fine. I-I'm fine."

"Alex," she began.

"Not now, Y/N. I can't. Not now, ok?" he continued walking and grabbed himself two beers and headed to the sofa. Ivar noticed he'd returned and gave him a questioning look from across the room. Alex held his hand up and signaled that everything was ok as he turned up the first beer.

Sigurd and Anja sat across from him with Paul on one side of him and Y/N on the other. Sigurd began talking and thankfully, Paul and Y/N were quick to engage in conversation with him, as Alex turned up his second beer already.

Alex looked around and noticed Aslaug was at the kitchen counter without her smart-ass side kick for now. He saw his mom walk up to her and begin talking, and he could only hope Aslaug wouldn't say anything to her. He knew his mom, at least, was definitely what you would call a, "mama bear," and for the first time in a long time, he was quite proud of it.

"Hey, Aslaug. How are you? I've been meaning to talk with you all evening," Mama Hogh said to her.

"Oh, it's so nice to see you. I'm great. How have you been? I feel like it's been ages since I've seen you guys," Aslaug said.

The two of them made small talk for a few minutes before Alex's mom said, "What do you think about our boys? Who would have guessed that the two of them would have fallen for eachother, right?"

Aslaug thought before speaking and trying to choose her words wisely, finally answered, "It's funny. I kind of always thought my Ivar would end up with Alex's sister." Aslaug smiled and offered her a drink that she turned down.

"Oh, she is engaged now," Mama Hogh grinned, "But can I offer a word of advice to you?"

"Sure," Aslaug answered, intrigued.

"We have to let them go. They're not ours anymore. They're our babies, and we always think we know what's best for them, but there comes a time when we just have to let them go to make their own choices, and support them when they do."

She saw Aslaug's face harden a bit. "Trust me, I almost lost Alex because of trying to make his choices for him, thinking, 'Mama knows best,' but I learned the hard way, it's just not worth it. If they're happy, we have to be happy for them. And have you noticed how happy they clearly are with eachother? What mother could want more than that? Love comes in all shapes and sizes, and yes, sexes, Aslaug. Who are we to tell another who to love?"

Aslaug was clearly deep in thought. "How very insightful. Umm, thanks. I think." Aslaug leaned forward and hugged her as she told her that she and Thomas were leaving.

They returned to say their goodbyes. When Alex's mom came to him, he tried to stand but stumbled back onto the sofa, laughing. She smiled at him. "Just make sure you don't drive, Hun," and she hugged him goodbye as she told Y/N, "Take care of my boy, ok? I think he must need it." Y/N was surprised at how intuitive Alex's mom was, and she agreed.

Paul had been giving Alex beer after beer, and now Alex was feeling pretty good. Sigurd and he were intensely talking about being with someone they loved who already had a child. "It's so fucking beautiful how much you can love someone that you automatically love their offspring as if they're yours, right?" Alex slurred his words to Sigurd.

Sigurd smiled and agreed with him as he squeezed Anja's leg. He looked over and noticed one of Paul's hands on Alex's leg and the other rubbing his back. It didn't quite set well with Sigurd, but he told himself not to get involved. He'd definitely remembered each of his brother's warnings to not get shit started.

Alex continued talking, as Y/N got up to use the bathroom. "But you, you Sigurd, you have the luxury of having a baby of your own with umm, was it Amy?"

"Anja," she corrected him.

"Right. Anja. I'm sorry." Paul handed him another beer which he turned up and finished in 3 seconds, flat. "So you'll have your own little offspring soon. I, umm," he held his head down, "I can't provide that for Ivar."

Handing him another beer, Paul said, "Oh, there are other ways around that, Sweetheart." Alex turned up the beer as Paul's hand moved up his leg a bit more. Alex was so out of it by this point, that he didn't even notice, but Sigurd it did not miss it, nor did he miss the "sweetheart." He sat up to the edge of the couch and listened.

Paul continued, "If you were mine, I wouldn't make you feel any kind of pressure like that. Maybe the problem isn't that you can't give him another child. Maybe the problem is either who you're with or that he should be fucking happy with what he's got." Paul placed his hand on Alex's cheek while his other remained practically on his inner thigh, obviously headed toward where it definitely should not be.

Alex attempted to pull away from Paul's hand. Even in his drunken stupor, it didn't feel right. "Oh, umm, I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," Paul told him as Sigurd watched and tried to decide what to do. He looked to Anja, but she was now standing behind them, talking with Torvi. "I just hate to see you not appreciated, Alex," Paul continued. "I'd never let you feel inadequate, especially when it came to my fucking ex. I'm sorry he makes you feel that way. Are you sure that's love? Because I'm not." He dragged his hand up Alex's leg further and squeezed as he handed Alex another beer.

Alex turned the beer up and his head began spinning. He suddenly jerked away from Paul and moved over on the sofa. He tried to start another conversation with Sigurd to distract himself from Paul's words, but he kept hearing what he'd said ringing in his ears and it came out to Sigurd, "I'm uh, I'm inadequate, huh? That's it. That's why he still loves her. I'm not good enough."

Paul scooted over closer to him and placed one hand on the small of his back and the other back on his leg again. He pulled Alex into a hug and kissed him on the top of the head. "You're not inadequate at all, Alex. You're perfect."

Sigurd had finally seen enough, "That's enough, man. Back the fuck up. You've gotten him just drunk enough that he has no idea what you're up to. I think you need to leave. Now."

Paul looked up to Sigurd as he stood and said, "Who the fuck are you? Alex is grown and can make his own fucking decisions."

"You've conveniently taken his decision making skills away from him and I'm Ivar's fucking brother, that's who the fuck I am! Now, back the fuck up!" Alex's head fell over onto Paul's shoulder and Paul placed his hand at the nape of Alex's neck, and wrapped his other around his waist, completely disregarding Sigurd.

Trying not to be the one to make a scene, Sigurd stormed to the next room, looking for Ivar. When he found him, the look of utter hatred and disgust was plastered across his face. Ivar instantly felt his defenses go up as he was used to that look.

Expecting him to spill whatever bile he had stored for him, Ivar sat his drink down and balled his fists up, ready to knock him out and then kick him out. So, he was very surprised when Sigurd began talking.

"Ivar, I'm sorry to interrupt you, but this is about Alex." Ivar sighed at Sigurd. "No, it's not like that, Ivar. I'm pissed. That Paul guy, whoever the fuck he is, has gotten Alex super drunk. Alex doesn't even know what's going on, and he's talking out of his head about you still loving Katia."

"Oh, what the hell! Let me go talk to him," Ivar started to leave Sigurd.

Sigurd stopped him, "No, Ivar. That's not even what I'm talking about. It's just that, well, Alex is drunk and talking out of his head like I said, and that fucking Paul is using his words against him."

Ivar saw red, "What? What the fuck do you mean?"

"He's twisting Alex's obvious insecurities about the two of you to his advantage and basically telling him how he'd treat him better. And Ivar, he's groping him up. Alex pulled away several times, but this mother fucker keeps putting his fucking paws all over him. It's disgusting. I fucking told him to leave, and he completely ignored me. And since I promised you guys I'd behave, I thought it better to come get you."

"Fuck that! You should have kicked his ass and thrown him out!" Ivar spat through gritted teeth. "Where the fuck is this piece of shit?" Ivar felt anger like he hadn't felt in a long time course through his veins. He followed Sigurd, his unlikely ally.

When he found Alex, Y/N was arguing with Paul as he sat with his arm resting on Alex's shoulders. Alex was slumped over with his head in his hands.

Ivar walked up, "Thanks, Y/N. I can take it from here." She looked up to him with a sigh of relief and backed away, bumping into Hvitserk, who had the same murderous stare that Ivar had.

Paul looked a bit nervous as Ivar walked to Alex's side. Squatting down to Alex, he calmly said, "Hey, Love. I think you've had enough. Why don't we call it a night?"

Alex raised his head from his hands and looked into Ivar's worried eyes and smiled warmly. He said, "Hey, my Ivar. Umm, well, you are still my Ivar, aren't you?"

"Yes, of course, I am. Let's get you to bed, shall we?" Ivar gently said.

Alex looked at Paul and reached for another beer. Paul handed it to him as he rubbed his back. Ivar placed his hand over Paul's and squeezed it as he removed it from Alex's back. "That's enough touching, now. I think it's time for you to go," Ivar said sternly to Paul.

Alex turned back to Ivar and said, "But he's my friend. We were just talking shit, Ivar."

"So I've heard. Well, he has to go home, now, Love. And you can go with me to rest in my room."

Ivar placed his hand on Alex's cheek and Alex leaned into it. "Nah, I don't think I'm ready for bed just yet. I was enjoying the party. Have a drink with us."

Ivar stood up and told Paul, again, to leave. Paul answered, "I don't think Alex wants me to leave."

Ivar didn't have a chance to answer before Alex said, "No, don't leave. The party's not over yet."

Ivar helped Alex to his feet, "The party is over for the two of us. Come on. I'll help you up the stairs."

Alex still protested, "Ivar, we still have guests. I'm not ready to go to your room yet. C'mon, one more drink."

Sigurd and Hvitserk had everyone else go to other rooms, telling them they didn't know how this may play out, and that they didn't want anyone getting hurt. Aslaug stood in the doorway, watching, though. She knew that Alex's current state was because of him overhearing her and Katia talking. She knew she needed to talk with him and explain.

When Ivar noticed his brothers had cleared the room, and Alex was still rambling about one more drink, he bent down and scooped Alex up and threw him over his shoulder, completely ok if he vomited down his back.

Alex kicked and then laughed, "Oh, you Tarzan, me Jane. Bedroom. Now." He laughed even harder, "Hey, I may like this game after all. Bedroom, now, my Ivar." He grabbed his head, "But fuck! I can't be Jane!" Ivar even struggled not to laugh at that.

"Ok, Alex, let's go."

When Alex complained that he still wasn't ready to leave, Paul stood in front of Ivar. "Man, he said he doesn't want to leave. Put him down. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Ivar felt a surge of anger hit him like a lightning bolt.

With Alex still over his shoulder, Ivar grabbed Paul by the shirt collar with his right hand and spoke to him through a clinched jaw and murderous eyes. In one of the most menacing voices Hvitserk had ever heard him use, Ivar growled at him, "What the fuck is wrong with ME? What the fuck is wrong with YOU?! You're in my house. You don't get to tell me to do anything! Now, get the fuck out of my house before I throw you out. Step aside before I destroy you." Ivar let go of him and he stumbled backwards a bit. "Don't make me peel your disgusting skin from your pleading body like a fucking potato! NOW, MOVE!"

Finally feeling proud of his baby brother, Sigurd giggled from behind them. Hvitserk's mouth just dropped in complete shock.

Paul winced at the images Ivar had put in his mind without even blinking. This man was ruthless, and he couldn't understand what Alex even saw in him, but he was not backing down. He wanted to be with Alex, and he was determined to show Alex who the better choice was.

When he got his balance, he, again, stood in front of Ivar. "I said put him down!"

With Alex still draped across Ivar's shoulder and back like a jacket, Ivar tightened his grip around him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such a need to defend someone he loved.

Before anyone in the room even had time to register what was happening, Ivar drew his arm back, and he suddenly punched Paul right in the face with what felt like the strength of a twenty. Paul instantly stumbled back and fell over. He was completely knocked out.

Ivar looked down and stepped over Paul, and as he took the first step on the stairs, he turned back to his brothers. "Hvitserk and Ubbe," who had just entered the room a few minutes before, "Can you show the rest of our guests out and give my sincerest apologies?" Sigurd looked up to Ivar questionly. "And Sigurd, will you umm, can you take out the fucking trash? If the piece of shit gives you any problems, do whatever you fucking want with him."

Sigurd smiled, "Happily." He rubbed his hands together with anticipation, and leaned down and kicked Paul to see if he was conscious yet. Ivar smiled and went about carrying Alex up the stairs, to his room.

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Ivar laid Alex down across the bed and smiled when Alex stretched his arms out and said, "Good morning, sunshine."

"Love, it's night. We're getting ready to for bed," Ivar chuckled at him.

"Oh, are we, now? I like the sound of that," Alex leaned up and reached for Ivar's crotch, but Ivar moved away from him, just out of his grasp.

Alex fell back onto the mattress, "You do t wnat me, do you? So, it's true, huh?"

"What's true?" Ivar asked, having no clue what Alex was talking about.

"You are still in love with Katia. Did you tell her? Because she already knows, too. Too bad I was the last one to fucking know. Might have saved me the humiliation of having to hear it from her," Alex turned his gaze away from Ivar, "It's ok, Ivar. You're off the hook."

Then, sitting up, or rather, trying to sit up, Alex told him, "I should go home. This, uh, this isn't right." He slung his legs over the side of the bed, and when he tried to get up, he fell forward.

Ivar rushed to his side. "Shit! Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I've said it before, I like to get all the breaking done at once," Alex half laughed.

Ivar didn't know what had happened, but his mind could only guess Katia had told Alex some vile story that wasn't even true. "Whatever she's said or done, Alex, I'm sure it's all lies. You can't let her get to you and you can't believe her." Ivar tried. "You know how manipulative she is."

"Fuck that!" Alex raised up and tried to get to his feet. Unsuccessfully.

"Here, let me help you," Ivar offered and then helped Alex back to bed.

"You're, you're so fucking lucky I don't have the energy right now. I'd fight you on this one. You don't want me. I'd umm, I would, I, umm, nevermind. Can we talk tomorrow, Ivar? My head's splitting open. I, umm.." Ivar smiled at Alex's stuttering, but still worried about what he was saying. "Yeah, uh, you know what I'm saying, right? Umm humm."

Ivar brushed Alex's hair from his face to see he was passed out that quickly. He said his name a few times to check and yes, he was out.

Ivar pulled Alex's arm up from dangling on the side of the bed and took his shoes off for him before removing his own shirt and pants and crawling in bed beside him. He leaned down and kissed Alex on his temple, "Man, you're gonna feel this one in the morning." Ivar smiled.

As he laid back onto his pillow, he thought about the evil that Paul had attempted with Alex. He knew Hvitserk and Sigurd had taken care of everything downstairs because neither had came for him. Sigurd. What an unlikely person to have his back! He couldn't believe he'd welcomed someone like that into his home. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't worried about what Alex would do when he learned how he had to throw his friend out, but he knew it had to be done. He then began to worry about all the things Alex was saying. What was he even talking about? How could Alex possibly think that he was still in love with Katia?

As the rage began to build in him again, he turned to Alex and brushed his fingers through his hair in an effort to calm himself. Then, he began to wonder what had gotten Alex this upset to begin with.

As he continued to brush through Alex's hair, Alex turned to face him, barely opened his eyes, and smiled when he saw Ivar's eyes looking back at him. He mumbled, "Hold me?"

"Of course, Love. Come here."

They scooted into each other as their bodies intertwined and Ivar's arms wrapped tightly around Alex. He kissed Alex on the top of his head as Alex snuggled into him. "I love you," Ivar whispered, and the two of them finally fell asleep.

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