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ray-ray-writings · 4 years ago

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Faking Happy-Platonic!Awesamdude

#105 from this prompt list! Check out my masterlist here!

This is a platonic!awesamdude x gn!reader in the dreamsmp! Reader is also Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy’s sibling, although that isn’t really hit on a lot.

Trigger Warnings: Depressive behavior such as overeating, overeating unhealthy foods.

The bottle Y/N has been filling with their emotions finally tips over and overflows.

Y/N’s POV

I let out a sniff as I wiped at my nose. I don’t know what is wrong with me recently. It just felt like everything had gone to shit. Tommy had been exiled. Techno moved super far away. Wilbur is dead and Ghostbur remembers basically nothing. And worst of allI haven’t been able to see my best friend for a long time. Sam had been my best friend for as long as I can remember.

We met when I was attempting to add some flare to my house with redstone and nothing I was doing was working. I asked around and many pointed me in the direction of Sam. He helped me out a lot, and by that I mean he did it all. Finishing the project did not stop him from coming over almost everyday and from then on one was rarely seen without the other.

But a few days after Tommy’s exile, Dream came to Sam with a stack of diamond blocks. Dream asked Sam to build him a prison. But not just any type of prison. An inescapable prison. One where if someone were to be put in there, they wouldn’t be able to escape. It took days of planning but Sam finally got the blue prints and then he went to work.

Every once in a while I would pop by and visit him. He would show me what he was doing and tell me all about it. But the more I visited, the shorter the tours and explanations got until finally all I got was a simple wave. I haven’t been back to the construction site since that day.

My chest felt so heavy. I missed my best friend with everything I had. But I couldn’t let others see that. Anytime I went out. I plastered a fake smile on my face. I gave everyone cheerful smiles and waves as I passed through. I made time to stop and chat with Tubbo, Quackity, Fundy, and Ranboo. Always being sure to fake laugh at their jokes and waving off their worries and concerns. I would pop into Niki’s bakery, buying all the sweets that I could so I could binge eat them when I’m feeling lonely. Niki would always give me a supportive smile whenever I bought my weight in sweets but would never question me, something I would forever be grateful for. Life had just not been kind to me.

A knock on my front door startled me out of my crying pity party. I quickly rubbed the tears from my eyes and took some deep breaths, trying to calm myself enough so that it looked like I hadn’t been crying my eyes out. The knock sounded once more, this time more demanding. “Coming!” I managed to croak out. I stood from my couch and quickly made my way to the door. With my hand on the handle I took one more deep breath before plastering the biggest smile I could muster on my face. I swung the door open and gasped in surprise.

“Sam! What are you doing here?!” I exclaimed in surprise. Sam querked an eyebrow at the question, “What do you mean? Do I have to have a reason to come and see my best friend?” The tall man questioned. “No, no, no!” I rushed, moving out of the doorway to let him in, “It’s just I thought you were too busy with the prison to come visit me” I admitted, tucking hair behind my ear. Sam’s face slightly fell at my confession. He cleared his throat as he entered my home, “I’m never too busy to see you.” He stated walking further into my home. I let out a tiny scoff as I shut the door. “We both know that’s not true.” I muttered under my breath.

I found Sam in my kitchen, staring at the slight mess of baked goods. “So, how’ve you been?” Sam questioned, brushing a cupcake wrapper out of his way. “Oh, I’ve been good… Yeah good.” I lied through my teeth. “How have you been?” Sam silently stared at me. “Y/N?” He asked, not answering my question. “Yeah?” I responded, not looking at him. “Are you lying to me?” Damn it. Sam had always been able to tell when I wasn’t telling him the truth. I was hoping that maybe that being away from him for so long, his ability would lessen.

“What? No! Why would you think that?!” I claimed incredulously, slightly glancing at him, hoping to throw him off. “You are! You are lying to me! You haven’t been good have you?” He pressed harder. I swallowed harshly, my mouth felt dry. “I’m not lying. I’ve been good! I’m happy! See!” I exclaimed, looking at him and giving him a big fake grin, “Now tell me how you’ve been, how’s the prison going?” I questioned, trying desperately to get the topic off of me. “Prison’s fine. Now tell me how you’ve really been. Why haven’t you been happy?” I couldn’t help but scoff and roll my eyes, “Sam, I told you I’m fine! I’m happy. I’ve been happy. Now will you please just lay off and leave me alone about it?” I snapped harshly, maybe too harshly.

Sam’s eyes widened at my tone. His face screamed hurt which made my stomach twist in guilt. “Sam,” I began gently, trying to move forward but he recoiled. “You know what? I’ve got to go,” He stated plainly. Sam moved out of my kitchen and back toward the front door. “Sam!” I pleaded, trying to get him to stay for a moment. He wasn’t listening. “I’ve got to go back to work at the prison. Dream needs it done soon.” He claimed, throwing open my front door and taking a few steps out. I followed him and was met with cold water hitting my face. It was raining… perfect. “Sam, please listen to me. Let me explain,” I begged the man I called my best friend. Sam pulled out his enchanted trident from his inventory. I knew he was about to fly away. “You know Y/N,” Sam stated, pausing after taking his trident out, “You’re my best friend. I want nothing more in this world for you to be happy. “I hope one day you’re as happy as you’re pretending to be.” “Sam” I choked out, silently praying that he would turn around and hear me out. My prayers weren’t answered. “Goodbye Y/N” And with a flash of lighting, he was gone.

My legs gave out from beneath me. For once, I allowed myself to break down outside the comfort of my home. I sat there outside of my front door, sobbing in the rain. I didn’t care who saw me at this point. I had lost my best friend. “Y/N?” I heard a sweet voice call. I didn’t register them in front of me. They helped me stand up and go back inside of my house. They closed the door and helped me sit down on the floor in front of my door. I don’t know how long I sobbed in their chest. But they held me and stroked my hair.

When the tears vacated my eyes, I was able to see that the sweet voice had belonged to none other than Niki. When our eyes met, she gave me a soft smile. “I knew something was going on with you, but I never wanted to over step. You want to talk about it?” She questioned softly. I mentally debated with myself before deciding that yes, I did want to talk about it. And so I told Niki everything. She patiently listened and nodded along to show she was listening and interested. And when I was done, she sat for a moment to digest everything.

“You need to talk to him,” She declared after a moment, “He’s your best friend and he deserves to know how you feel. Especially if you’re feeling like this.” I let out a sigh and nodded. “You’re right. But after today, I’m not sure he would want to see me.” “Your best friend as much as he is yours. I’m sure he would love to see you.” Silence settled between us for a brief moment. “Okay,” I claimed slowly standing up. “I’m going to go see him… and I’m going to take a pumpkin pie.” Niki let out a giggle as she stood up as well. “Oh I’m sure he’ll love that.” We both laughed at that. Sam had always been a sucker for Niki’s pumpkin pie.

I thanked Niki profusely for helping me and listening to me. She assured me that it was no problem and then she left. I quickly packed for the small journey to the prison, making sure not to forget the pie and then I set out. It didn’t take me too long to get there, the many times I had made this trek before really came in handy. The walk was now basically muscle memory, I could do it with my eyes closed. Which was good considering my eyes were really puffy from crying.

I let out a deep breath as the prison came into view. I noticed that the outside was a lot more finished than when I was here last, but I could tell there was still work to be done. I quickly made my way to the entrance and stopped in the doorway. My eyes scanned around and didn’t see him. My shoulders deflated in defeat, maybe he already left for the day and I missed him.

“Y/N?” A voice called from behind me causing me to jump. I whipped around and came face to face with the man I was looking for. “Hey,” I greeted sheepishly, taking a small step forward. “What are you doing here?” He questioned, a stony expression set on his face. “I… Uhh. I came to apologize and explain.” I confessed. His hard expression fell from his face. “Go on…” I took a deep breath before nodding. And so I let everything spill out of me. I told him all about how I felt like I had lost all of my brothers. I literally lost Wilbur and the other two are so far away, I might as well have lost them too. On top of that, I told him how not seeing him had affected me and my mental health. How I had been faking being happy because I didn’t want to be a burden on anyone. I admitted to him my unhealthy habits of buying as much as I could from Niki’s and then binge eating instead of facing my feelings. And finally I told him that seeing him today and him calling me out just caused everything to break in me.

“I am really really sorry for what I said to you Sam. I didn’t mean it. I don’t want you to lay off. I don’t want you to leave me alone. I always want you to bother me and check up on me and talk to me. You’re my best friend and I love you.” I finished, a single tear falling down my cheek. Sam didn’t hesitate, he rushed forward and wrapped me up in his arms and held me close to his chest. He brought his head down and rested his chin on the top of my head as we hugged. “Thank you for apologizing,” He murmured, “I love you too. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize you were hurting sooner. I promise that I will bother you everyday if need be. I never want you feeling like that again.” “I’ll hold you to that promise. If it means I get to go back to seeing you everyday, count me in.” I stated with a grin, tilting my head to look into his eyes. I felt Sam’s chest rumble as he chuckled at my statement but said nothing else.

After a few more moments of hugging, I suddenly remembered my surprise for him. “Oh!” I gasped, unwrapping myself from my best friend’s hold, “I brought you something!” I carefully pulled the pie out of my backpack and presented it to Sam. “Tada!” I exclaimed, extending the pie to my bestie. Sam let out a gasp as he accepted the gift. “A Pumpkin pie? From Niki’s?? Oh you’re actually the best!” Sam exclaimed, grabbing the spoon I had brought him as well and immediately began digging in. I let out a laugh as he shoved the pumpkin dessert in his mouth. “What?” He questioned, his mouth full. I shook my head as I giggled, “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

There you go! I hope you guys enjoyed it! If you did, please be sure to leave a like!

#mcyt #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt one shot #awesamdude #awesamdude imagine #awesamdude x reader #mcyt drabble #dream #dreamsmp #dream smp #dreamsmp imagine #dream smp imagine #ray ray writings #ray-ray-writings #prompt #requested #faking happy

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phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess · 3 years ago

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Did you hear about the Fraktz haunting in New South Wales (1995ish)?

It has gotten a little folklore-y and probably sensationalised over the years, but the basic premise is that Dina and Hans Fraktz were one of those overly helpful religious types, and were raising their three kids (Curtis - 11, Angie -8/9?, Louisa-May - 3) just about the same.

They lived in Albury, NSW which is in Australia in a dept of housing place, not much room but they made do and were always grateful to god about it. Enough that, as the story goes, it catches the attention of some demonic entities.

Belphorn bets that Lucifer can't corrupt the whole family in under a year, and of course the overachiever that he is, the head of hell says 'Hold my beer mate' and goes to work.

It starts as every horror movie starts, weird noises, bad dreams, smell of decay, something in the corner of their eye, etc. Louisa-May is the most sensitive, and of course, gets taken first after promising something to her 'imaginary friend'.

The paediatrician isn't sure what to do when her frantic parents present at the clinic with a toddler that keeps cackling maniacally and contorting in ways bodies shouldn't. They rationalise it's probably ehhlers-danlos sydrome or a varient, and this needs further observation. A referral for a specialist is provided, and that's that apparently.

Of course with a 'sick' child, the stress and tension in the house is high. Dina and Hanz are having whispered not-arguments so the kids won't hear, and Hanz pretends to ignore that Dina's gone back to smoking ten a day to keep herself calm. In the same way she turns a blind eye to his fermented grape juice dinners... and breakfasts.

Curtis shows the stress by acting out at school, getting detentions frequently and just skirting away from suspension by technicality alone. His friends distance themselves, he has no energy for footy anymore, and he can barely concentrate because something is always just behind him. He screams himself awake, begging it to just leave him alone, he'd do anything to just be left alone.

"Anything?" the shadow asks one night in late June, detaching from the wall. There's a few variations of the pact that the demon makes, but they all boil down to 'you can't be scared of us, if you're one of us' and Curtis is so tired he accepts.

The next morning Curtis is muttering in ancient sumerian under his breath, with bloodshot eyes and a strange echo to his voice.

Hanz speaks with their local minister about an exorcism, or some sort of spiritual guidance. A bake-sale to assist in medical care is organised, and a prayer night held for the two Fraktz children.

Nothing seems to change. Dina can only turn the crucifixes in the house rightside up so many time a day, and starts to just walk past them now. Who cares anymore?

Morning and Evening prayers go by the wayside, and even saying Grace falls out of fashion because its horrifying to hear it babbled back in dead languages, or one of your children shrieking at the holy words burning her ears...

By September, Dina's exhausted. Something's scurrying in the walls at night and she knows its not rats, it can't be. She checks on Curtis and Louisa-May to make sure it's not either of them climbing the walls again.

Hanz won't get up anymore, so she tends to wander the house with a flashlight trying to find the noise, and ignoring the lingering sensation of something breathing on her neck. She ignores it, because their minister said acknowledgement gives it power.

Something has written an ominous message across her kitchen wall in what is either blood or thick jelly, and that's the straw that breaks the camel's back. Dina bursts into tears and starts yelling for whatever was doing this to get the FUCK out of HER HOUsE because she JUST WASHED THAT WALL and WHO DID IT THINK IT WAS to go doing something like that?

Something knocks a few jars over, and four slash marks appear on the bench. Dina's scared but still angry, she screams at the air, turning in every direction. "What do you want? Tell me, and I'll do it, just leave us alone!"

By the time Hanz stumbled into the kitchen, swaying and dizzy from his skinfull, Dina wasn't there anymore. Well, at least, her body was.

Hanz would tell his neighbour, the minister and his church group about finding Dina walking on the ceiling and singing an old lullaby to the sleeping Louisa-May in her arms. She reportedly screams at him when he asks what in god's name is she doing?

Terrified, Angie asks her father if she can go stay with her aunty (Meryl) in Woodonga, just a town over. Hanz readily agrees, and drives her there himself, before again seeking assistance from the church.

The minister, clearly not ever having been prepared for such things when he'd accepted the small town position, was at a loss and offered platitudes. Using comparisons to Job to try and help Hanz feel that his faith was merely being tested, and not that God had abandoned him...

For the first time in his life, Hanz began to doubt in the power of the Lord. He left a few journal entries around October 1995, many of which contained the phrases "I feel like I'm going mad" and "I know I'm not crazy, but it feels like I am", as things spiralled out of control.

The main barrier to accessing help, is that Dina, Curtis and Louisa-May were perfectly capacble of acting like themselves when people came around. So Hanz came off as having some sort of mental health episode, and the minute they left, things deteriorated again.

At his wit's end, Hanz locked himself in his bedroom and begged the lord for help. Sobbing and pleading, clenching his hands so tightly in place that his nails pierced the soft flesh between his fingers and the crucifix imprinted on his palms.

It was not entirely clear what happened after this point, as the tales all like to make interesting claims but the key point is there were no actual witnesses, except Hanz and the already 'taken'. But by the next morning Hanz had been subsumbed by the entity as well.

Despite being with her aunty, Angie continued to have nightmares that she would shriek herself awake from, well into late November. Her aunt and two adult cousins would take turns reading to her, distracting her, and reminding Angie about Christmas coming up soon so she had something to look forwards to.

They also took turns sleeping on the floor by her little bed in the guest room, so that there was always someone to point out there was 'nothing there and nothing can hurt you' when Angie woke up distressed. [Her older cousin Deliah has a book about the ordeal, and I think it might be in e-reader, but you can google it if you want.]

So Christmas rolls around, and excitement for Santa overlays even the deepest fear of shadows, which seems to breathe some life back into little Angie. Her aunt is relieved, but is still fighting to get some in-home supports for her brother, his wife and their other two children; she knows something's wrong, but suspects it might be something in the old council pipes...

Angie struggles to keep her eyes open as the countdown begins, and just managed a solitary enthused 'tooooooooot' from her party blower before falling asleep on the couch against her other cousin, Javin. The adults laugh uproariously and take photos, for when she's old enough to be embarrassed by such things.

Oddly enough, the new year seems to have snapped the rest of the family out of their funk, as if 1996 has a power all of its own. Things seem to slip back into place as if people had not been puppeted by a demonic entity for nearly 12 months...

Down in hell Lucifer was fuming and Belphorn was far too smug.

But what could be said about the bet? Lucifer was bound to lose, because he didn't possess all the Fraktz.

#i made this #its bad but i am proud #sorry #Joke

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city-witch-magix · 4 years ago

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Yule, the Winter Solstice

Begins on Winter Solstice and lasts 12 days (Winter Solstice is the shortest day of the year, December 21st)

Focuses on rebirth and renewal as the sun makes it way back to the earth. New beginnings with magical workings and welcome light and warmth into your home

History: There are many variations of yule throughout the world. The Norse people celebrated Jul and viewed it as a time for feasting and merrymaking. Icelandic sagas believed it was a time of sacrifice. The Yule log, decorated Christmas tree, and wassailing can be traced back to the Norse people. Little is known of what the Celts did as celebration but it is said they sacrificed a white bull and gathered mistletoe in celebration. The Romans had a week long party full of merrymaking and debauchery that involved gift-giving, sacrifice, special privileges for slaves, and feasting. Ancient Egyptians celebrated the sun daily until they realized the cooler weather and cycle of life coincided.

Decorate your altar with blues, silvers, reds, greens, and whites for the season. The reds help with chakra work because it is associated with chakra root. White helps focus on purifying. Gold can also be incorporated because it is associated with the sun and coincides with Yule.

Symbols of Yule include gold discs, yellow candles, anything bright and shiny, a large pillar candle with solar symbols, evergreen boughs, sprigs of holly, pinecones, Yule log, Santa Claus, Antlers/reindeer, fruits (fresh apples/oranges), nuts (walnuts, pecans, hazelnuts), snowflakes, icicles, bowl of snow, candy canes, bells, and sunwheels

Prayer to the Earth- Cold and dark, this time of year, the earth lies dormant, awaiting the return of the sun, and with it, life. Far beneath the frozen surface, a heartbeat waits, until the moment is right, to spring.

Yule Sunrise Prayer- The sun returns! The light returns! The earth begins to warm once more! The time of darkness has passed, and a path of light begins the new day. Welcome, welcome, the heat of the sun, blessing us all with its rays.

Yule Sunset Prayer- The longest night has come once more, the sun has set, and darkness fallen. The trees are bare, the earth asleep, and the skies are cold and black. Yet tonight we rejoice, in this longest night, embracing the darkness that enfolds us. We welcome the night and all that it holds, as the light of the stars shines down.

Prayer to the Winter Goddess- O! Mighty goddess, in silvery ice, watching over us as we sleep, a layer of shining white, covering the earth each night, frost on the world and in the soul, we thank you for visiting us. Because of you, we seek warmth in the comfort of our homes and hearths.

Prayer for Counting Blessing- I am grateful for that which I have. I am not sorrowful for that which I do not. I have more than others, less than some, but regardless, I am blessed with what is mine. [If you have a set of pagan prayer beads or a witch's ladder, count off each bead or knot, and consider the things you are thankful for, like so:] First, I am thankful for my health. Second, I am thankful for my family. Third, I am thankful for my warm home. Fourth, I am thankful for the abundance in my life. [Continue counting off your blessings until you have thought of all of the things that enrich your life and the lives of those around you.]

Prayer for the Beginning of Winter- See the gray skies overhead, preparing the way for the bright sun soon to come. See the gray skies overhead, preparing the way, for the world to awake once more. See the gray skies overhead, preparing the way for the longest night of the year. See the gray skies overhead, preparing the way for the sun to finally return, bringing with it light and warmth.

Nordic Yule Prayer- Beneath the tree of light and life, a blessing at this season of Yule! To all that sit at my hearth, today we are brothers, we are family, and I drink to your health! Today we do not fight, We bear no one ill will. Today is a day to offer hospitality to all that cross my threshold in the name of the season.

Snow Prayer- From the reaches of the north, a place of cold blue beauty, comes to us the first winter storm. Wind whipping, flakes flying, the snow has fallen upon the earth, keeping us close, keeping us together, wrapped up as everything sleeps beneath a blanket of white.

Prayer to Old Gods- The Holly King is gone, and the Oak King reigns— Yule is the time of the old winter gods! Hail to Baldur! To Saturn! To Odin! Hail to Amaterasu! To Demeter! Hail to Ra! To Horus! Hail to Frigga, Minerva Sulis and Cailleach Bheur! It is their season, and high in the heavens, may they grant us their blessings this winter day.

Celtic Yule Blessing- The food is put away for the winter, the crops are set aside to feed us, the cattle are come down from their fields, and the sheep are in from the pasture. The land is cold, the sea is stormy, the sky is gray. The nights are dark, but we have our family, kin and clan around the hearth, staying warm in the midst of darkness, our spirit and love a flame, a beacon burning brightly in the night.

Elemental Prayer- As the earth grows colder, the winds blow faster, the fire dwindles smaller, and the rains fall harder, let the light of the sun find its way home.

Prayer to the Sun Gods- Great sun, wheel of fire, sun god in your glory, hear me as I honor you on this, the shortest day of the year. Summer has gone, passed us by, the fields are dead and cold, all of earth sleeps in your absence. Even in the darkest times, you light the way for those who need a beacon, of hope, of brightness, shining in the night. Winter is here, and colder days coming, the fields are bare and the livestock thin. We light these candles in your honor, that you might gather your strength and bring life back to the world. O mighty sun above us, we ask you to return, to bring back to us the light and the warmth of your fire. Bring life back to earth. Bring light back to earth. Hail the sun!

Some recipes: https://www.learnreligions.com/yule-cooking-and-recipes-2562933 (Yule Plum Pudding, Savory Sun King Soup, Baked Spaghetti Squash, Sunshine Skillet Casserole, Divine Yule Peppermint Fudge, Chocolate Yule Log, Wassail, and Hot Buttered Rum)

Source: https://www.learnreligions.com/all-about-yule-2562972

#witch #witchcraft #intro to paganism #intro to witchcraft #wicca #baby witch #yule #winter solstice #research on witchcraft #sabbats

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dulcettonesofmattsimmons · 4 years ago

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I Do (Matt Simmons x Reader)

Prompts / MasterList

Matt didn’t have many friends besides the team. Y/N didn’t want a big wedding. They both agree that they want a simple and small wedding. They both already got what they want, which is each other. So Rossi opens up his house for them to get married since he saw Matt as a son and he wanted to give his house as a wedding gift even though he still brought the couple a gift. Matt invited the team and his kids to come while Y/N invited some of her friends and family. Not a lot of people. It was small.

Y/N got a few of her friends from high school and the BAU ladies to help her get ready. “Oh I already know that Matt is just going to go crazy once he sees you,” Penelope said cheering. “Thank you, Garica” Y/n answered blushing, looking at herself in the mirror.

Once they were ready to walk down the aisle, Rossi volunteered to walk Y/N down the aisle since Y/N’s dad couldn’t make it since he was away for a job. When they got to Matt, who already had tears in his eyes, Rossi just pats Matt’s on the back and walked to his seat. “You look just beautiful” Matt whispered. “I got to keep up with my soon to be husband” Y/n replied, Matt just smiled and looked down. “I think it’s me who has to keep up,” Matt said, making Y/N smile wider.

“We’re here to celebrate something that rarely has ever been found. Which is true love. Matthew Simmons and Y/N L/N found and now are ready to bond together for eternity. Now I believe that the bride and groom wrote their vows.” The minister spoke looking at Matt and Y/N. They both nodded and took out their own papers.

Matt breaths and speaks.” I admire you. Simply because of your kind soul, tender heart, and a positive mindset. I especially appreciate your endearing sense of humor. I am ever so grateful for your love and selflessness. In return, I offer these promises. I promise you my everlasting devotion, my loyalty, and my respect. I promise to love you unconditionally and to grow with you in mind, body, and spirit. I promise to pray with you, to dream with you, to build a family with you, and to encourage you. I promise to share in your joys and sorrows and all that God has to offer us. You are my forever, my best friend, my dream come true, and now my wife. With these words and all the words of my heart, I marry you and bind my life to yours. Forever and always. I love you. At last, the day is finally here as we become husband and wife. Things always fall into place at the right time and the timing was perfect for us. Whatever happened the first time? Although I never told you, it didn't take me long to know that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. They say when you meet your soul mate you should feel calm, no anxiety, and no agitation. And your calmness is what gravitated me towards you from day one. I love you. I love the way you still give me butterflies every time I see you. I love the way you care not only for me but for everyone around you. I love the way you're patient with me. I love how much you're willing to try new things with me to make me happy. I admire how hard you work to help others and above all, I love how you love me. You've taught me things and opened my eyes to see life so differently and clearly. You've shown me the meaning of love and have made me become so emotional yet strong at the same time. You forever have my heart, my soul, and my hand as we journey through this chapter called life together. I promise to love you, respect you, and cherish you forever. I'm so lucky to have found such a perfect person that I get to spend the rest of my life with. You're my soldier, my lover and above all, my best friend. I'm so excited to spend the rest of my life with you. So tonight I give you my heart and vow to be the best partner in life and in love. I love you to the moon and back. I promise to hold your hand every night and never let us lose our spark. I promise to love you, to be your heart, to keep a flame alive for you in my heart. I promise to have the patience that loves demands, to speak when words are needed, and to share in the silence when they are not. I promise to be giving and forgiving; to make you laugh and to laugh at myself. I promise to love you as you love me, through all hardship, darkness, and pain to reach for our joys, our hopes, and always with honesty and faith. You are my guide to love, my every wish, and the person I want to grow old with. You’re my person. You just are. When you walked into my life, love walked in, too. Time is always on my side when I am with you.”

Y/N wipes her tears and grabs Matt’s hand. She started. “I want so badly to be able to explain all the love I have for you. Not the love of butterflies and stomach knots—but more the blurring of self and the entanglement with another soul. Love is a word that is much too soft and used far too often to ever describe the fierce, infinite, and blazing passion that I have in my heart for you. You are a million dreams and a million prayers of a little girl come true. You are kind. You are silly. You are intelligent. Your laugh is contagious. You acknowledge my strengths and accept my faults. You make me want to be a better person every day. I take you as you are now, tomorrow, and for eternity to come, to be my husband. Even when the day comes that we're old and gray, I promise to always see you with the same eyes and the same heart that I see you with at this exact moment. So today, I vow to honor you and respect you, support you, and encourage you. I promise to dream with you, celebrate with you, and walk beside you through whatever life brings. I vow to laugh with you and comfort you during times of joy and times of sorrow. I promise to always pursue you, to fight for you and love you unconditionally and wholeheartedly for the rest of my life. You are my best friend and I'm the luckiest person on Earth to call you mine. I'm so proud that today I became your wife. I love you. I love the way you dance to make me laugh. I love that you always push my hair back when it's in my face. I love that I get a kiss from you every time we stop at a red light. I love that you're open to trying new things. Today, I want to make promises to you that I will always keep. I promise to never stop holding your hand. I promise to make sure I'm not just hungry when I get upset. I promise to stand by your side while you face the world. Listen to you when you speak. I promise to join your laughter with my own and when you can't look on the bright side, I will sit with you in the dark. I promise to grow alongside you, but also to never grow up. I promise to love, respect, protect and trust you, and give you the best of myself, for I know that together we will build a life far better than either of us could imagine alone. I choose you. I'll choose you over and over and over, without pause, without doubt, I'll keep choosing you. I used to never truly enjoy moments because I was always waiting for what's next. The next thing to happen. Kind of living life fast forward. Now that I have you, I enjoy the moment. Every moment. Today seems like it's the start of a new journey, but I already belong to you. Falling for you wasn't falling at all—it was walking into a house and knowing you're home. I love you.”

By the end of it, everyone was crying. No one had a dry eye. “Well, I think that this is the part where I ask you a question” The minister spoke, making Matt and Y/N smile and nod. “Do you Matthew Simmons, take Y/N L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death does you part.” The minister looks at Matt. “I do,” Matt nods, smiling. “ Do you Y/N L/N, take Matthew Simmons to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death does you part.” he looked at Y/N. “I do” Y/N answer smiling. “By the power vested in me, I pronounce you to each other, husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” The minister spoke.

Matt quickly pulled Y/N in for a kiss and everyone started to cheer but Matt and Y/N could only focus and each other.

#matt #Matt Simmons #Matthew Simmons #matthew simmons x reader #matt simmons x reader #Matthew Matt Simmons #matthew simmons imagines #Matthew Matt Simmons x reader #matt simmons imagine #matt simmons imagines

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3pirouette · 4 years ago

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Fic: 40 Weeks (1/1)

Title: 40 Weeks By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Spoilers: First Avenger, that’s it. Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: 4601 Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Rated teen to mature due to content.

Story Summary: Every week farther away from him is a week closer to a new beginning.

A/N: For Steggy Bingo Bash Sentence Prompt: “I have eagerly been awaiting the day I could finally meet you… and I am not disappointed. You are beautiful.” Also, I’m sorry. Set during CA:TFA.

TW: while I hate to give away the plot, this story is about Peggy dealing with an unplanned pregnancy while believing Steve is dead after going down on the Valkyrie. This may be a sensitive subject for many, please read or skip accordingly for your own mental health.

I have never been pregnant. ALl info is from the internet.

Also, I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. This made me cry. You’ll probably need tissues.

~*~ Week 0

He’d almost died.

It was all she could think of as she pressed her body into his, their lips meeting with force, battling to be dominant, the air charged with lust and fear and relief as they shed their clothes as quickly as they could.

Every time she closed her eyes she saw it: she saw the way the tank aimed at him, how his shield barely made it up in time to deflect the load from the great barrel, how it exploded and pushed him back in a way he didn’t expect, how he landed near the great rotating treads, shocked, and his head just an inch away from disaster as the tank rolled forward before Dugan slid in and pushed him farther under where the treads could do no damage.

He couldn’t hear her when they finally triumphed, blood slipping from his ear. He looked shocked, dazed. She’d never seen him like that before.

Even small, before the serum, he’d seemed invincible to her. This reminded her that even Captain America could die.

He could hear her now as she moaned his name, his lips slipping against the flesh between her legs, licking and nipping and biting as she fisted her hands in his hair, pulling him up to her. That realization had made her feel lost, broken, and she needed him in a way she’d never needed anyone before. The touch of his hand was too little, the wrapping of his arms around her in a simple hug not enough. She’d slipped them into an empty supply room, locked the door, and pressed him against it. “I won’t let either of us die without knowing what it’s like to love one another.”

He’d held her face in his hands, gentle, and tried to reassure her. “That’s not going to happen. I won’t let that happen.”

She hadn’t argued with him, didn’t have it in her to play devil’s advocate. Instead, she kissed him. Surprising him, it took a moment for him to kiss her back, for him to let them melt together, but slowly his body started to vibrate on the same frequency hers was, it started to pick up on her need and desperation and it left them as they were now, him clutching her shoulders, sliding inside her sloppily as she balanced on the edge of an old desk, her legs wrapped around his hips and her lips marking him at his collar bone.

It was quick and frenzied, sloppy and amateur, but Peggy couldn’t help but feel a little more put together, a little more reassured as they lay on the creaking table, his head pillowed on her breasts, the both of them gasping for breath.

“I love you, Peggy Carter,” Steve whispered, kissing the flesh closest to him, “and I’m never letting you go.”

“And I love you,” she croaked out, her voice raw. She tangled her hands in his sweaty hair, her heart pounding in her chest. “But you and I both know that neither one of us is in control of what happens during this bloody war.”

He pressed up on his arms, hovering over her, his dog tags cold against her skin as he pushed a curl behind her ear. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he kept it to himself. Instead, he kissed her gently. He pulled away softly, his brow furrowing as he looked down at her. “How am I supposed to go back to that lonely tent without you now?”

She let her hands slide over his shoulders. “Needs must, you know,” she whispered, letting him gently help her to sitting. “I suspect my own bed will be quite disappointing.”

Steve bent, kissing her thigh as he picked up their discarded clothing. “Peg, we should…”

“We shouldn’t,” she stopped him as he stood, eyes serious. “if we want to keep working together, no one can know. They’ll toss me out of here in a second and you know that.”

He kissed her gently, handing her her slip. “I hate keeping us a secret.”

“I’d hate even more not knowing if you were alive or dead.”

~*~ Week 3

She hadn’t managed a night’s sleep since he went into the water. Every time she closed her eyes she saw him drowning, saw his hands reaching up for her. Saw his lifeless body floating away.

She wasn’t his widow, she wasn’t his anything, not officially. His belongings were put in storage and his name was mourned. Only the men that knew them best, the ones that saw the snuck kisses and hand holding, gave her any real sympathy.

Dugan sat with her, Pinky said a prayer with her, and Phillips had even hugged her.

There was no body, no funeral, no remembrance beyond that given to any other soldier when there was still so much more work to be done.

She could barely eat, couldn’t sleep, felt sick and tired all the time, and yet, she knew she had to march on.

There was a war to win. She was going to win it for him.

~*~ Week 6

She was shaking, and only partly due to the fact that she’d just thrown up most of what she’d eaten today quite violently. She held the phone to her ear, trying desperately to slow her heart rate.

She didn’t want it to be true, and yet she desperately did.

And if it was, she was absolutely beyond terrified.

There was another long ring before a polite English voice she’d never heard answered.

“I need to talk to Howard, please. Peggy Carter calling.” She was proud that her voice sounded almost steady. Her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest, the seconds it took Howard to get to the phone felt like hours.

“Peggy!” he called, excited. “It’s good to hear from you. How can I be of service?”

She took one shaky breath, then another. She’d never been ashamed of what they did, would never be, but the impact it was going to have on her life, the way it was going to change everyone’s opinion of her… she wasn’t ready for that.

She heard her mother’s voice in her head, criticizing the women at church who work skirts that were too short and who flirted to shamelessly. Harlots, Margaret. Girls like that give smart, determined women like us a bad name. All for what? They should be on their knees for praying, not for…humph!

“Peggy? You there?” Howard asked, his tone softening.

She wasn’t ready to lose them all. She didn’t know how she could avoid it, though.

“Howard. I… I need your help.”

~*~ Week 7

He met her in London, his eyes tight and worried as she disembarked the troop transport with her usual aplomb, not a hint of the desperate woman he’d spoken to on the phone about her. He watched her closely as they got in his car, as he introduced his new butler, as they drove far away from the base and to a small house he’d rented.

She managed to keep her composure through lunch, telling him how she and Steve had shared one moment of unrestrained passion, how neither of them had thought anything could come of it, and how, three weeks after he was pronounced KIA she realized that he’d managed to make sure she’d never be alone, even without him.

Though she hadn’t taken a test, Peggy Carter knew with certainty that she was pregnant with Steve Rogers’ child.

She swallowed, looking at Howard frankly, her eyes clear. “I don’t mind being called a whore or a harlot, that I can take and have brought upon myself as my mother would say,” Peggy quickly relayed. “My job is lost, I’m sure.” She steeled herself, but it didn’t quite work. “But I can’t…” she teared up, wrapping her hands around her still flat belly, “I don’t know how to protect it. The Army… they’ll want…”

She dissolved into tears, sending Howard to his knees beside her. “I’ll help you, Peg. You don’t have anything to worry about.” He took her hand in his, waiting until she wiped the tears from her eyes to look at him. “Nobody’s going to touch that baby, ok? If I have to marry you myself, no one is going to touch that kid.”

~*~ Week 10

The guest house at Howard’s New York home is more than suitable for her, and she takes to wandering it aimlessly as it is quite large.

She resigned her commission, citing personal reasons much to Phillips chagrin.

How am I supposed to win this war without you, Carter? Phillips’s voice echoes in her mind.

Once, she would have bristled at that, would have rethought her decision to leave and felt the pull of duty.

She had only one duty now. It had been easier than she thought it would be to say goodbye.

One day she’d tell them the truth. Phillips, the Commandos, they were her friends, too. She still was barely thicker around the middle than she had been, not enough to show and not enough to be suspicious. But right now, she held the only living genetic sample of Steve Rogers, and there were nations that would kill for that, including her own. For now, she could still hide in plain sight.

Their baby’s safety was all that mattered to her.

She made another round, checking the windows and doors and making sure the gun by her bedside was loaded and ready to go if need be. She’d already pulled it twice on poor Mr. Jarvis, but he seemed to be getting used to her paranoia.

~*~ Week 12

Ana is a godsend.

She’s funny and quick-witted, and thankfully good with a needle and thread. Peggy’s clothes all need letting out at the seams now, and Ana entertains her with silly stories of her day and tales of the farmer’s market in town as she makes alterations.

She’s become her only close friend, and Peggy is ever grateful that not once did she see pity or judgement in the woman’s eyes.

Her mother continues to refuse to speak to her.

~*~ Week 16

Howard has proposed no less than three times since he’s been back from the front.

His simplest solution is to not give the Army any reason to believe the child belongs to Rogers. While Peggy can see the wisdom in this, she can’t quite seem to get on board with the idea of denying the man she loved his only true legacy.

“I’m thinking about it,” she would tell him nearly twice a day.

And she was thinking about it.

~*~ Week 18

She’s glad the doctor Howard has found her is knowledgeable and discrete. She knows, because Howard refuses to lie to her, that they take an extra vial of blood for him at each visit, and he runs his own tests.

She’s relieved that the midwife Ana finds her is sweet and kind, and that the woman simply holds her hand when Peggy breaks into tears when the woman asks about the baby’s father.

“I’m so sorry my love,” the midwife whispers gently. “So many young women have lost so much in this war.”

If her midwife believes her to be anything other than a war widow, or notices the lack of a ring on Peggy’s finger, she never says.

~*~ Week 20

Ana has to take Peggy shopping for maternity clothes now. She’s showing and can no longer get by with letting buttons stay undone and letting out seams. The lacy frocks and pastel colors turn her off of the small section in the department store.

She can’t help but watch the women around her, some barely showing, some looking ready to burst, and wonder what their lives are like.

Do they have doting husbands at home? Indifferent husbands? Men overseas who may never see their child’s birth?

Are they like her? Lost and alone and so very, very unsure of how even tomorrow will go?

Ana gently guides her through the store despite her daze, and helps her choose some sensible tops and dresses.

She doesn’t plan on leaving Howard’s estate other than for doctor visits any time soon, so the design matters little in the long run.

~*~ Week 21

Lying in bed she can feel it.

Little flutters.

They’re easy to ignore during the day, but at night they’re positively maddening. She rubs her stomach, hands gliding over the tightening flesh, closing her eyes and imagining they were Steve’s hands.

Tears come to her eyes.

Would he have been happy? Excited? Scared? She’s imagined each emotion a million times over. She’s never really been able to decide.

Some days she barely knows how she feels about it.

The flutters get more insistent, no real kicks or punches yet, just little backflips. She imagines a little boy, lithe and graceful as his father, or a little girl, smooth like a ballerina.

She smiles.

“Bide your time, little one,” she whispers, and the movement calms down. “You’ll be out here with all of us soon and there will be little time for rest.”

~*~ Week 23

Her days are the same now: mornings to herself to prepare for the day, afternoon tea with Ana and a rousing walk along the grounds with Mr. Jarvis. There’s the occasional doctor appointment or meeting with the midwife thrown in, but dinner is steadily at 7 and she indulges in warm baths and a book before bed.

Lying in bed is when her day turns.

She’s never really quite sure what’s going to happen after she turns the lights out.

Some nights she talks to her baby, having decided on calling him or her simply “My Little One” for the time being. If her child’s restless she knows her voice will calm it: stories, lullabies, or just rambling about her day.

Some nights all she can do is cry. Usually, it’s gentle streams of tears falling from her lashes quietly as her mind drifts to the man who will never know his child, who she imagines never understood how much she loved him, who had plans for a life after the war with her…

Sometimes she sobs; big, heaving sobs that seem to come up from the depths of her soul. This happens often after the nightmares. She has the nightmares less and less, but they’re no less dark, no less graphic for the time that’s passed. She wakes up, gasping, feeling like she’s drowning herself, and lets the tears come.

Some nights she sleeps, deep and dreamless. Those are the good nights, when she can rest and rejuvenate, when she can wake up the next day feeling like she just might be ready for whatever will come next. They’re few and far between.

Most night she simply misses him. She’s started talking to the darkness, telling Steve, who she desperately needs to believe is watching over her and their child, of all she’d done that day, even though she like to think he’s seen. Sometimes she balls up the quilt, imagining the weight of the fabric is his body behind her, wrapped around her, holding her close and keeping her warm, running his hand over the swell in her belly and whispering in her ear as he kisses her neck.

She whispers into the night, wondering what she should name their Little One.

She doesn’t get an answer back.

~*~ Week 25

Peggy’s indigestion keeps her from enjoying dinner more nights than not, and it has both the Jarvises and Howard worried.

Peggy reminds Howard that he should be less worried about her indigestion and more worried that if he asks her to marry him one more time she will literally punch him. He opens his mouth to make the proposal, but stops when she simply raises her eyebrows at him, the challenge clear.

The midwife tells them all it’s perfectly normal, and stays with Peggy to talk about where she wants to give birth.

Peggy and Howard both agree the main house will be the safest, and neither is willing to risk a hospital.

By the end of the week, Howard has one of the downstairs wings converted to a hospital wing: a birthing room and a fully equipped surgery ready and waiting.

~*~ Week 27

“Howard says he’s officially put me on the payroll as a security consultant.” Peggy sighs into the darkness. “I asked him what that means and he said it just means I don’t need to worry about anything ever again.”

She rubs her belly, looking up to the ceiling. “For what it’s worth, I almost punched him again. He still has a bit of a bruise from the last time he proposed.” She chuckles. “But he did promise that when I was ready, he thought Stark Industries could use someone like me, and that my pay was merely a retainer fee.”

She turns on her side, pulling the quilt up around her shoulders. “Nearly two-thirds the way there, my love.” She squeezes her eyes shut, pretending his arms are wound around her. “Ana wanted to throw me a baby shower, but I couldn’t think of anyone to invite. We’re going to go shopping for the bassinet and such tomorrow, instead. She and Mr. Jarvis have already bought me more than enough bottles and diapers to last well until the Little One is walking.”

Her voice cracks, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “I can’t believe you won’t be here for this.”

~*~ Week 30

She doesn’t fit into her bras anymore, and Ana has never been more of a godsend. The woman brings her a bag full of options from the department store and sits with her, chatting calmly as she sews little cotton pads to go in them while Peggy sniffles, unprepared for the leaking and the soreness that’s accompanied this new stage in her pregnancy.

Even when feeling her lowest, with washcloths stuffed in her slip and her face red after bidding Ana a soft farewell, the back of her mind tells her that Steve would have gathered her in his arms and held her close, telling her she was beautiful and amazing and carrying a new life.

She wraps her arms around herself, weeping, and sinks to the floor, crying for all she’s lost and the things her child will never know.

~*~ Week 32

Her mother still refuses to speak with her, and she’s resorted to letters.

She hasn’t said who the baby’s father is, or that there is a good chance her grandchild will be the genetic carrier of an abundance of useful information that could cure disease or lead to another generation of super soldiers.

She mails what she tells herself is the last letter, the contents telling her mother that, should she care to know, Peggy has found a wonderful group of friends that will make sure her and her baby are protected and cared for no matter what happens.

Peggy sits, staring out the window of her guest house, rubbing her belly and thinks it’s a shame that the baby won’t have a grandmother to bake it cookies.

She laughs when she realizes Mr. Jarvis can fill that role very well, and that his cookies are far better than anything her mother managed to cook from scratch.

~*~ Week 35

She wakes up the whole household at three in the morning, convinced she’s having the baby too early.

Jarvis resorts to making tea and a full English Breakfast despite the time.

Ana holds her hand tightly, sitting by her bedside in the birthing room in the mansion as they wait for the midwife.

Howard paces a rut in the floor outside her room, smoking like a chimney and muttering to himself.

“Braxton Hicks,” the midwife tells her cheerfully despite the ungodly hour. “That baby isn’t quite ready to come out, yet.”

Ana sits with her for hours after the midwife leaves, never letting go of her hand.

~*~ Week 37

She sits with a list of names. She tries to imagine his reaction to each of them, but can’t.

Howard has become insistent that she put him down as the father, he notes that it won’t spoil his reputation any and that him as the legal father will afford the baby a comfortable life and there will be far fewer questions.

She thanks him, then threatens to punch him.

She’s already decided that the father’s name on the birth certificate will stay blank. Better no father than the wrong man, she thinks.

The baby will have her last name.

The rest, she hopes, will come in the next three weeks.

~*~ Week 38

She paces the halls of the big house through the night. Howard and Jarvis, much to her and Ana’s amusement and chagrin, have become insistent on her staying in the mansion. They want her close as the big day nears.

She tries to picture what Steve would be like, tries to guess which pieces of her friends he’d put together: Jarvis’ anxiety and preparation, Howard’s determination and excitement…

Steve was always a very tactile person, and she misses every hug and touch she knows he’d have given her. She can feel them burning on her skin in their absence.

The Little One is active and low, ready to come any day now.

What was once fear and confusion is starting to transform in her belly into excitement.

~*~ Week 39

“Mr. Jarvis,” Peggy calls from the hallway just after dinner on a quiet Tuesday, “I’m afraid I’ve made a bit of a mess.”

He moves out of the kitchen, his usual placations ready to spill from his lips until he sees the sight of her: puddle below her, legs dripping, one hand gripping her belly and one holding the sideboard to keep her standing.

Peggy thinks, as she watches Jarvis and Howard turn into tornados of commotion around her, that perhaps Steve would have been the calm one. He always did manage to have his head about him in a battle. Jarvis is slipping in her mess as he tries to get her over it without incident, Howard is on the phone, yelling incoherent sentences at the midwife.

Ana, thankfully, takes her hand and helps her leave them behind, guiding her back to the birthing room that had become her bedroom for the last few days.

Yes, she imagines, as Ana helps her into a dry nightgown and pull her hair back, he would be calm and certain, slow and deliberate, making sure she had everything she needed. Ana’s helping her into the bed as the midwife arrives, and like before the woman stays by her side, talking softly as the midwife examines her and declares that they’ll have a baby sooner rather than later.

Peggy thinks it might be the pain, but as she’s enduring the worst of the contractions, she swears she can hear his voice in her ear, telling her to keep going, that she’s strong, that she doesn’t need him, or anyone, to do this.

When they sit her up to push, she imagines it is Steve’s strong form behind her, not pillows and a bedframe holding her up as she yells with each effort, the midwife between her legs and Ana at her side.

When the baby slips from her body she imagines he catches her as she falls back, limp, his strong arms holding her up, his lips at her ear, his cheek next to hers.

But when the midwife hands her the baby, swaddled tight and eyes opening gently, any ghost of Steve is gone. Her heart pounding in her chest, she hears the words over and over in the back of her mind, and she’s wondering if it is him, if he was with her. If he’s left her this gift and this knowledge.

You can do this.

“A little boy,” the midwife says as she hands Peggy her son. He squeals a bit, lets out a soft cry, then settles, opening his eyes.

Peggy smiles at him, eyes filled with tears. She presses the blanket back from his chin, taking in the radiant blue of his eyes, the tiny eyelashes that surround them, the strong set of his still barely there jaw.

She knows, one day, there will be no question about his parentage.

She presses a soft kiss to his head, cradling him close as he squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a cry, her heart more full of love than she could have ever imagined. She can’t tell if she’s laughing or crying as she speaks. “I have eagerly been awaiting the day I could finally meet you… and I am not disappointed. You are beautiful.”

She gazes at her son as the midwife finishes her work, feeling but not registering the passing of the afterbirth and the older woman’s gentle washing of her legs and thighs. Ana gently cleans the child as she holds him, unable to look away. Finally, the midwife sits by her side, papers in her hands. “I’ve filled out everything else. All that’s left is his name.”

Peggy gulps, hard, undecided for a moment, but his eyes gaze up at her and she knows. “Michael Steven Carter.” She expects tears when she says it, but they don’t come, and that’s how she knows she’s made the right decision. “For two important men that I wish he could have known.”

The midwife sets a caring hand on her arm as Ana turns away, sniffing. “A beautiful memorial.” The older woman fills out the paper and leaves it at Peggy’s bedside. “I can bathe him for you, if you like?”

“No, I don’t think I can bear to let go just yet,” she whispers, still in awe of the small movements he’s making. Each stretch, each wiggle she can almost feel coinciding to a movement she felt from the outside. To have him in her arms is a blessing she won’t overlook.

“Then perhaps we should try feeding him?”

Peggy nods, smiling up at the woman. “Please.”

~*~ Week 40

She stares at him, asleep in his little bassinet. He’ll be waking soon, she can tell from how swollen and tight she feels that he’s due for another feeding, even if she hadn’t looked at the clock.

When she woke, she could have sworn that she saw Steve standing over the bassinet, his form strong and stoic in the moonlight.

She blinked, and he was gone.

Peggy didn’t have time for fantasies of lost loves any longer. She still wondered at how Steve might react, what he’d say, but she’d been too busy to wonder too much, or miss him too deeply.

Michael was her whole world right now, and keeping him safe was her first, and only, job. Howard said it was for too early to know if he’d exhibit any of the traits his father had been endowed with, but any and all tests they’d run showed that he was a healthy, normal little boy.

She still hadn’t figured out how she’d tell him about his father, or what they’d do if he was stronger and faster than all his peers as he grew, but every time it popped through her mind she reminded herself that was a problem for years down the line.

Tonight, when she held him tight to her breast, she could tell him unedited stories of the bravery of his father, knowing that the boy would never remember her words.

Tonight was all that mattered.

Tonight, and her beautiful boy in her arms.

#Steggybingobash #Steggy Fic #Angst #tissue warning #3P's Fic

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frostsinth · 4 years ago

Text

Royal Flush - Pt. 8

Part 1|2|3|4|5|6|7 - MasterList - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art (<like a seal xD)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! Omg. This was not how I intended this chapter to go. But the boys take me where they will. I have no control over them anymore.

I hope you guys enjoy! The next part will be... different than this. Can’t say much more without spoilers.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more ramblings. There’s also SO MUCH art of these dorks, click the #Royal Flush to see all of it. DM me if you’re interested in a commission! All the best!

I quickly fixed my posture, meeting my brother’s eyes. Burying every last bit of panic in a mask of perfect stone. His face might as well have been a mirror of mine, a matching set of carved expressions facing each other. Though our physical resemblance stopped at the material of our statuesque expressions. Valerianus was my opposite in most measurable ways; where I was hot-tempered, he was cool. My chin was angular with a rounded point, his was square. My face was clean shaven, his had a polite blonde fuzz neatly edging his face. I wore solid colors, dark but bold. He wore blacks and greys. Where I was practiced in military tactics, he was practiced in manners of state. Where I was trained with melee, he was trained in ranged... But the breadth of our shoulders was the same. The tightness of our jaws. The hazel brown of our eyes.

There were few things I could imagine bringing my brother out beyond the walls of our castle. And none of them were good. I could feel Grier shifting restlessly beside me, and saw the steely gaze of my older brother flicker to him. I dipped my head in deference to Valerianus, remembering myself after the brief lapse.

“At your will, Your Highness.” I answered, my voice flat even as my mind raced, falling back into court formalities as if not a day had passed without them. “If you would permit me to introduce King Grier.” I turned to the goblin, bowing slightly and extending one hand towards the goblin, who stepped forward at my movement. My tongue halted over the follow up of ‘my betrothed’ which would have been standard. My eyes flicked to him briefly. “Your Majesty, may I present for you Crown Prince Valerianus.”

“It is an honor, Your Majesty. Though I must apologize for the unorthodox nature of my arrival.” Valerianus intoned upon my introduction, bowing slightly, his voice equally drained of all inflection. “It was necessary to keep my identity concealed until I had a chance to speak with you privately, Your Majesty.”

“Of course, Prince Valerianus,” Grier replied, nodding lightly and tilting his head to the side, “As Prince Nikostratus’ brother, you are always welcome here. And it is a pleasure to meet you formally.”

I longed to shift or wring my hands. I itched to ask why my brother was here. My patience could just barely suffer these formalities while my stomach spun knots. I heard equal measures of curiosity in the goblin King’s voice, though less strained than my own, and watched Valerianus’ eyes carefully consider him. Despite our… complicated relationship, I knew my brother rather well. Like all members of court, he was good at hiding his thoughts. But I had become beyond adept at reading the barely perceptible subtle changes in expression and tone. Especially for those I interacted with regularly. It was how I could sense Gareth’s seething anger and hatred with me (and certainly with Grier) even though he kept his face carefully blank. It was why I could navigate the social demands of court better than any other member. And why I could see, laid into the corners of the lines around the Crown Prince’s eyes, a wariness and anxiousness that belittled his outward calm. It made my stomach flip again.

“I thank you for your cordiality, Your Majesty, and am grateful for your understanding.” He returned, bowing his head slightly again. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you as well. And I believe you have already met my escort, Sir Gareth?”

I nearly broke at the useless exchange, my spine tingling with the desire to shift my weight or turn my head. My throat burning with the need to ask him the question pressing into the back of my teeth. But I waited. Waited with all the patience I could muster, practiced over a lifetime of coming second. With my nerves coiling around my chest and my keen eyes analyzing every flicker on my brother’s face.

“Indeed I have.” Came the cool reply, and scarlet eyes barely bothered with a lingering moment on my old guard, who managed a stiff bow. Grier turned back to Valerianus without pretense. “What brings you to our halls, Prince Valerianus?”

I sent a silent prayer of thanks to whomever was listening for the goblin King’s impatience and brusqueness. I saw my brother falter, obviously not used to such a quick switch from formalities to business. Normally, this might have gone on for another few minutes at least. He nodded slightly though, adjusting after a belated moment.

“I beg your indulgence for not sending word ahead, Your Majesty,” He began, and had I not already been as tense as rock, I would have stiffened at his words, “But I am afraid time was of the essence.”

I felt Grier’s eyes shift to me, and didn’t need to look to sense him taking a guarded stance at my side. “All is well with your family, I hope? Your sister?”

That caused a slight stutter in my brother’s mask, and I saw the corner of Gareth’s mouth twitch almost imperceptibly. The question was decidedly direct, as well as specific, and I saw Valerianus quickly sorting through the possible implications of it. But out of the corner of my eye, I saw Grier’s gaze flick to me again, before back to my brother. A light sparked behind his hazel eyes, and he too spared me a quick glance.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you for your concern. Princess Morgana is fine.” He spoke to the room, but I knew his words were for me. “She is in good health and spirits, and speaks endlessly of the letters sent to her.” I saw the corners of his mouth twitch ever so slightly. What might pass for a smile in my family. “Most especially of the manner in which they are sent.”

I would have collapsed with relief had I less control. The corners of my own mouth twitched back at his words, and I tried not to let my mask slip overly much as I thought of exactly how my sister would ‘speak’ of the delivery method. I imagined her delighted little face at the magical pop and sizzle of sparks; Grier had demonstrated for me how it would happen. A fluttering letter, like a paper butterfly, enchanted to appear before her in a burst of color and float down to her hand. Only to become parchment once more upon her touch. I imagined she must have been very ecstatic indeed; I was certain Valerianus had heard about it more than once.

I broke every rule of etiquette I had ever learned to glance briefly over at Grier. Endlessly grateful to him for asking the question I could not. I wasn’t sure if he noticed my glance, or understood the implications. But when I quickly returned my attention back to my brother, I saw his hazel eyes considering it. While I was certainly more efficient at deciphering hidden expressions, my brother was by no means an amateur. I ignored the lump forming in my throat under his scrutiny, and knew that the moment had not gone unnoticed by him even if it had passed over Grier’s perception. I felt my hands tighten behind my back as I wondered what possible conclusions he was drawing in his own mind.

“I am glad to hear.” Said the King, and his relief was much more evident than mine but no less potent. “What urgent matter brings you then?”

Valerianus bowed at the waist to him, giving himself a moment to recover from the directness of his new question. “My apologies, Your Majesty, but I do not wish to overstep the bounds of our Treaty unduly. Perhaps it would be best if I discussed this with Prince Nikostratus in private first.” He slowly straightened, cutting an imposing figure indeed as he locked eyes with the goblin King. “I would not wish to seem too demanding of your aid on this matter.”

“Your Highness, if I may,” I interjected politely even as Grier began to open his mouth to speak, pulling my brother’s attention back to me, “If, as you have stated, time is of the essence, then I would suggest we not waste any repeating ourselves.” I saw the thoughts swirling behind his eyes again, and met his gaze carefully. “His Majesty has honorably followed not only the letter of our Treaty, but also the spirit-”

“You forget yourself, Prince Nikostratus.” My brother interrupted sharply, and I quickly snapped my mouth shut. There was a momentary silence, where I held still beneath my brother’s scrutiny again. His lips pinched together ever so slightly, and a cold look passed through the corners of his eyes. “I apologize, King Grier, for our Prince’s disrespect. I do hope he has been conducting himself with more dignity during the rest of his attendance here.”

“Your brother has been the epitome of decorum and nobility since his arrival.” Grier replied in equally chilly tones, obviously displeased, and I noticed him cross his arms over his chest lightly, shifting his weight. Valerianus’ brows twitched at that, the only hint to his surprise at such a casual address. “And he speaks the truth now; I would be honored to assist our neighbors in whatever way I can. Regardless of the bounds of our Treaty.”

There was another pause, wherein my brother sorted through the strange social etiquette he now found himself a part of. I would have laughed, understanding his hesitation as palpably as my own when I had been first faced with such a conversation with a goblin. However, I was by far the much more adaptable of the two of us, and I saw him incline his head slightly to Grier. Working to reestablish the order that had been lost. To return to ground that should have been covered initially, then realizing himself wholly unable, and struggling to find the new ground.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.” He replied as he slowly straightened and tucked his hands into the small of his back. His hazel eyes flicked over to me briefly. “I am afraid I bring poor tidings for our people... A bout of the Rotting Sickness has broken out in our main city.”

A cold dread wrapped itself around my spine at his words, and my heart skipped. “The Rotting Sickness?” I heard Grier echo. “I have heard of this. It is not an illness to be taken lightly.”

Again there was a pause as my brother absorbed the quick and informal answer. There should have been more, in his mind. More discussion, more play of titles and discussion of politics. When none seemed forthcoming, he nodded ever so slightly.

“No, Your Majesty, not at all. The last time we saw it decimate nearly half of our population.” Valerianus replied.

My heart sunk in my chest and my hands tingled with fear. Yet, I couldn’t help but admire the tone with which he delivered the news. Flat, informational, almost indifferent. Especially impressive considering that the last bout had taken the life of his mother… I had been a teenager when my mother had passed. Valerianus had barely been seven years old when his had fallen ill. Though he would never admit it, her death had scarred him deeply. I knew now why he had taken it upon himself to act, before the illness spread too far. And couldn’t imagine this situation was easy for him in any regard.

“Poor tidings indeed,” Grier replied, nodding with the appropriate amount of remorse in his tone and features, “However, and I hope you do not find this overly callous of me, why seek our aid for this?” His head tilted to the side, wild hair flopping about his long ears. “Do you not have enough healers?”

I realized the answer to the same question that had been on my own lips as soon as it left Grier’s. I saw Valerianus’ thoughts working; swirling about in an attempt to formulate a proper and respectable answer. That would eventually, at some point, get around to his actual request.

“It is your magic that he seeks, Your Majesty,” I explained as it occurred to me, and only when my brother’s eyes shot to me did I realize the brusque nature of my answer, but I continued none-the-less, “When last the sickness hit, we had paltry methods to combat it-”

“I beg your forgiveness again, Your Majesty, for Prince Nikostratus speaking out of turn and with such bluntness.” He interrupted me, his deep voice slightly raised. His eyes flashed at me, the most that ever passed for anger with my level headed brother, “I am most astounded at the amount of abject dishonor he casts upon our family. I would like to extend my apologies, humble though they are, and offer whatever I can in recompense of his actions.”

His glare silenced me, and I pinched my lips tight together to hold in the rest of my words. Honestly, I was shocked at myself, and felt a bubble of heat around my collar. How could I speak out so brashly? He was right, I had forgotten myself, and I quietly bit my tongue and bowed my head slightly to show my acceptance of his scolding.

“And I would beg that you do not interrupt my partner when he is speaking,” Came the tart reply, and I nearly broke etiquette again to glance over at the goblin as the corners of my brother’s eyes twitched in concealed surprise, “I have little patience for this banter, as Nikostratus has quickly learned, and he does both myself and your people a service by just getting to the point.”

The silence rang in my ears, and I felt a little spike of warmth in my chest. But I kept my gaze politely trained at the floor before my brother’s feet. I was torn; a small part of me wanted to follow Grier’s lead and speak my mind. To help sort out whatever was needed to aid our people. Before the illness spread to risk further lives. My heart ached for them. However a lifetime under the boot of the human court had me fighting this newfound spirit as a cornered and trapped animal bites at the hand extended in aid. I sensed the goblin King shifting, meeting my brother’s stare with a familiar stubbornness. I tried to look at him out the corner of my eye without moving it. My brother was silent in the face of the King’s reprimanding. I knew he would be struggling to find a response, as by any standards of court I had been exceedingly rude, speaking out of turn. Yet the goblin had defended me, and as King, his word was irrefutable. So what did that leave for Valerianus to say?

Finally, Grier sighed, uncrossing his arms to place his hands on his hips. “You are not at your human court now, Prince Valerianus, but mine. Speak quickly, and try to stay on point.” I saw the three long fingers drum on one hip. “If you seek aid, why could you not simply send word ahead? Surely it would have been easier.”

I saw my brother straighten, almost taking a step back at the continued abruptness of my companion’s conversation. His shoulders squared and the corner of his lip twitched. Gareth behind him looked to grab at the hilt of a sword no longer at his hip. The tension in the room grew a bit more, but I waited until I felt the cool stare of my brother’s eyes upon me to raise my head and meet them. Hazels waited for me, then flicked to the King. Then back to me... I knew the answer. I could read it plain on his face, though I knew he could not speak it without shaming my family and belittling his own presence. My own lips pursed slightly, and a flash of rage rippled through me. But though his expression explained his actions, his eyes also warned me against another outburst. I dared not speak again, unless first spoken to. As was my place. And knew he would not, as it was his place to carry the conversation as the elder brother.

“My apologies, Your Majesty. I am not practiced in the etiquette of goblin court.” He began finally, but his voice retained its cold edge. “Nor, I am reminded, are you familiar with the customs of ours. I shall seek to make myself as… plain as possible.”

Grier’s scowl was much more apparent. “If you find yourself struggling, I am certain your brother would be more than adept at apologizing for your shortcomings to maintain the peace he has worked hard to establish.”

I knew Valerianus must be reeling inside, and I took a mental picture of his face to savor for later. It wasn’t often I saw the Crown Prince at a disadvantage. I would be sure to treasure this. He took an extra moment to wrap his head around the goblin’s casual and blunt approach, as well as his barely concealed insult, and cleared his throat lightly.

“Prince Nikostratus, despite his delivery, is correct in his conclusions, Your Majesty.” My brother continued, his tone back to its polite flatness. “I humbly come before you to request the aid of you and your mages, that they may help us prevent the illness from spreading more than it already has.”

I thought Grier might be enjoying himself a little too much, based upon the twitch of his smile and the glint in his scarlet eyes. He must have realized he had my brother off balance, and like a predator circling his prey, he moved in. As he took a step forward, I was suddenly reminded that he was a good deal shorter than either of us. He physically placed himself between my brother and I and had to tilt his head back slightly to keep his gaze. It was an easy thing to forget that he barely came to the bottom of my shoulder with the way he always carried himself.

“And this is the reason that the Crown Prince himself came all the way to my kingdom, seemingly … well, let’s be honest,” He glanced over my brother’s shoulder at Gareth and smirked, “Unguarded.” He cocked his head back to the side, baring his pointy teeth. “I am glad your King has such faith in our Treaty as to send his heir apparent himself. Or perhaps he is so enjoying the spoils of peacetime, he hopes to tempt me with another son? Perhaps I might sign over the rest of my kingdom as well with a new contract?”

Gareth’s mask broke at the implication, freeing his disgusted look as his brow pinched up and his lips curled back into a snarl. The goblin King didn’t spare him a glance, keeping his scarlet eyes fixed on my older brother. Poking and prodding, trying to throw him further off balance. I could see the edges of Valerianus’ own composure twitching, and was put in mind of my own first interaction with the King… not to mention subsequent ones. I resisted the urge to sigh, and took a tiny step forward to my brother’s defense. Very subtly placing myself at the King’s side again.

Grier’s attention flicked to me at my movement, and I met his gaze steadily. I couldn’t let my mask falter. Not in front of these wolves. But I hoped my eyes would be able to relay the message my lips could not. He considered me for a moment, then nodded, sighing deeply himself and waving one hand in the air.

“Ah, but it is not for yourself you are here for, but for your people.” He amended, and I saw the tension begin to leave my brother’s face. “This is something I can understand… I would be more than happy to provide our magic for your service.”

Valerianus nodded, fixing his chipped mask back into place. I noticed a brief glance tossed in my direction, but politely pretended I didn’t. I knew he was surprised. Not only at the prior silent exchange between myself and Grier, but also the lack of additional haggling. His position was obviously desperate. I knew he had fully expected to have to give something away in exchange for the healing magic. There was a pause, yet again, as once more he tried to sort himself out. To return to proper etiquette as he knew it.

“I am… most grateful, Your Majesty,” he began finally, and although to the untrained ear his voice would still sound flat, I heard the slight apprehensiveness to it, “We are of course willing to pay for-”

“I have all I need, thank you, Prince Valerianus.” Grier interrupted, waving his hand. “How many do you estimate have been infected so far?”

Valerianus paused, then turned his head slightly, glancing over his shoulder at Gareth. The guard had not managed to fix his face yet, and quickly bowed to his Prince to conceal it.

“We believe most of the lower city will have been exposed, Your Majesty, with at least half showing symptoms.” He replied, his tone bitter.

I knew his words were purposefully nondescript to be a dig at the King’s knowledge of our people. To force him to ask a question and therefore prove himself at a disadvantage to our knowledge. But Grier merely ignored the guard as if he hadn’t spoken at all. He didn’t even cast his scarlet eyes in his general direction, and I saw Gareth’s cheeks flush with his anger. He was not used to being ignored in such a way.

“I will send enough of my… what was it you called them? Mages?” He cocked his head to the side, considering my brother. “A full contingent to heal those infected and another to ward the rest of the city against the spread.”

Valerianus brought one arm around to his chest, clasping it across and bowing low. “We are most grateful, Your Majesty. I beg that you would allow us to show our heartfelt gratitude in some way.”

He spoke formally, with the usual flat edge to his tone. But I knew my brother was genuinely relieved. We were vastly different in many ways, my brother and I, from our taste in clothing to our personalities. Yet there was one thing I was more than happy to share with him; our love of our people and kingdom. I knew his sense of honor and duty ran as deeply as my own. Perhaps due to my mother’s influence in his life; she had raised him as her own after all for nearly 16 years. And though she had never managed to have the pair of us get along, and despite his faults... I had my hopes that he would make a great King one day. I bowed my own head, as was expected in such situations, and used the opportunity to sneak a peek at Grier out the corner of my eye. Thankful that he was not only a good man, but a good King as well. Perhaps my brother might have something to learn from him, if he was willing.

Grier waved his hand through the air again. “No need, Your Highness. Seeing your city myself will be thanks enough.”

The silence that dropped on the room could have killed a man with its weight. The lump returned to my throat, yet I forced my head to remain bowed. Even as I sensed Valerianus slowly straightening.

“I… We would of course be pleased to host you, Your Majesty,” My brother managed, “You are our most valued ally. Though of course you must allow us proper time to prepare for your visit.”

Grier scoffed. “No need for that, Your Highness. We are soon to be formally united after all,” I felt the tension in the room tighten around my neck like a noose, threatening to strangle the air from me, “And I will be personally overseeing the warding of the Castle to be certain you are all safe from this horrid sickness. I would not leave such an important task as protecting my husband’s family to an underling.”

My ears suddenly caught fire, and I was glad my head was still politely bowed. I itched to speak, to make some excuse or offer some alternative. I felt the cold, sinking dread returning to trickle down the base of my spine at the thought of facing my father and the court at large. But I felt the hesitation engulfing me, my childhood as a helpless bystander settling my tongue into ever silent stone. I blinked slowly, because I knew exactly how this conversation was about to end.

“That is… most kind of you, Your Majesty.” Valerianus replied cordially, his tones forcibly polite. “We would hardly wish to trouble you-”

“No trouble at all, Your Highness.” Grier quickly interrupted, and I could hear the toothy grin in his voice. “I am actually quite excited to finally be able to meet this King Tiburtius I have heard so much about. My mother told such tales of him when I was a child. I am eager to see if he lives up to them.”

Another deafening silence, another few millimeters squeezed from my breathing passageway. My breath was dangerously thin and shallow now, and my heart raced. But I kept my eyes trained on the ground. Do not speak until spoken to, I thought quietly, repeating it over and over to myself as if a mantra to keep me grounded. It was not my place to speak. I had no doubt Grier would not mind, but knew he would not think to invite me into the conversation. And certainly my brother would think it disrespectful to address me rather than the King, even if only for a moment to alleviate the fast growing tension. He was the Crown Prince, he could not request my aid even if he wanted it. I nearly quivered beneath the pressure to remain silent. Fighting harder than I had since I was a child still learning to hold my tongue in the presence of my betters. Those were lessons hard learned, and not so easily dismissed.

“...As you wish, Your Majesty.” Came the final reply, and my heart sank. Even though I had known it was coming. Even though I knew there was no other possible outcome. “May I ask when we should expect you?”

“We can be there first thing tomorrow.” He replied, his dancing voice betraying his eagerness. “I would not wish to delay any further than that; our magic is powerful, but we cannot bring back the dead.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. Your haste is most welcome.” I heard him bow, and slowly raised my head, preparing for the farewells. “I would beg your permission to take our leave then. We have a long ride ahead of us.”

“Nonsense. You are welcome to stay the night, Your Highness,” Grier offered, returning his hands to his hips, “We can return together in the morning.”

My brother dipped his head politely again, seeming pleased with the protocol of the offer despite the informal delivery which allowed him to fall back into standard and practiced conversational responses. “Your invitation is most kind, Your Majesty. However, I am afraid we cannot accept it. We must see that things are prepared for you and your people’s arrival tomorrow.”

“Then I will instruct my secretary to charm your horses. You shall be back to your lands and castle well before noon with this aid.” He returned, and his tone left no room for argument.

Valerianus bowed deeply at the waist. “I am eternally in your debt, Your Majesty,” He returned “For your continued aid and generosity.”

Grier’s grin returned, and he offered his own slight bow. I almost winced. Kings weren’t supposed to bow. And yet somehow, his managed to seem both magnanimous and arrogant. I saw my brother’s eyes flicker over him, and wondered exactly what he thought of my betrothed. I felt the dry lump in my throat shift, desperate to be released. But I held still as the formalities of farewell were exchanged before the Crown Prince turned to me.

He hesitated, and I met his eyes briefly before he offered me a tiny bow as well, as was expected. The look there was unreadable, even by my perceptive nature. Though I suspected it had less to do with my observation skills and more to do with Valerianus’ own muddled thinking. I returned the same bow, and held mine as he turned and strode past. Gareth skirted around behind me to stay at his heels. Grier followed them as far as the door, and I felt frozen in place even as I heard the latch clunk. I stared off at some distant point, not fully seeing anything at all. The numbness spreading through me. The soft click of the goblin King’s boots announced his return even before he slipped into my line of sight.

“They are gone now,” He reassured me, a lopsided smile on his face, “You can relax.”

“...Thank you, Your Majesty,” I managed, my voice barely above a murmur and flat as polished glass, “You are not in any way obligated to provide such aid, but I am grateful you are still willing to.”

I saw him pull back slightly, and confusion filled his heavy brow. Then there was a flash of anger in his scarlet eyes. “Tell me that you are joking.”

My eyes stayed still fixed on some distant point I couldn’t see. “I am not sure what you mean, Your-”

“Stop.” His voice sounded pained now, and I felt an echo of its ache in my own chest. My lips clamped shut, tightening to keep from quivering. “... Why are you doing that again? Speaking like…” He shook his head, and I saw his hands purl into fists. “I am trying very hard to keep my calm right now, but… Haskl’an svrit, would you just-” I jumped as his hands suddenly clamped around my face “-Look at me, damnit!”

I did look, meeting his gaze in surprise. His touch was light, yet might as well have been a bucket of water dumped over me. I felt myself slowly beginning to refocus, pulling back from that distant, glazed look of formality. But my mask was more firmly fixed in place than I thought, based upon the desperation that his eyes darted back and forth between mine with. My jaw tightened, and I swallowed hard. Finally beginning to dislodge the lump that had sat there throughout the meeting. Still, the statue ingrained into my personality lingered, chiseled back into place by my brother’s appearance.

“Talk to me, Nikostratus,” He begged, and his thumbs ran across my cheeks, “What happened?? Did I do something wrong? Just talk to me, please.”

I realized I was still slightly bent at my waist, and slowly uncurled. Pulling myself free from his hands as I straightened to my full height. “... What would you like me to say?”

His brow scrunched up, and a scowl came to his lips as his eyes seemed to flash a deeper shade of scarlet. “Anything. Anything you want. Lecture me on human etiquette and all the rules I just broke. Tell me you’re regretting ever signing the marriage contract. Lose your temper and yell at me. Something! Just… don’t shut me out again.”

I paused, dropping my eyes to the ground. My brain and emotions at odds trying to sort out what I was supposed to be doing. I willed my mouth to open, and felt my lips part slightly. But no sounds came out. Hesitantly, I managed to bring my hands around, and thumbed at my palm. I blinked slowly, and felt my lips slowly close again.

“... I saw it.” He told me softly, stepping closer and trying to slip back into my line of sight. “I saw him silence you. I heard him scold you, just for speaking.” His hand came out, catching around the back of mine still clasped before me. I stiffened slightly at his touch, then winced, disoriented again. “I can’t imagine that was the first time… I get it now, I think… Why it’s so hard for you.” I froze in confusion as he stepped closer, wiggling his fingers between mine. “... but you don’t have to do that for me. I want to hear your voice. I want to know what you’re thinking.”

I started shaking my head before he had even finished speaking, and sought to untangle my hands from his. My mouth flapped open uselessly, and I tried to still myself. I looked down at my palms and fingers, glanced over at where his lingered in the air between us.

“Just… speak. No filter.” He pressed. “Whatever comes to mind...”

There was another pause while I tried to work up my courage. Tried to sort through the jumble of thoughts long enough to push one out.

“... Why did you do that?” I finally managed, my voice soft. It sounded strange, and distant. As if it came from a different place than my own mouth.

“Do what?” He stepped forward, but I matched him for a step back. “...Offer aid? Agree to help your people?”

I shook my head again, trying to dislodge the haze over my thoughts. “... Decide to go to the castle…” I looked at him, hesitant and uncertain. “Did you… did you even think about it? O-or was it just…” I stopped, hesitating.

“Just what?” He encouraged, though I could hear the edge of pain in his voice. “It’s ok, please. Just what?”

“Was it… was it just another game… another tactic... to gain the upper hand?” I finished, uncomfortable with the words as they came slipping past my guards.

Grier was quiet with that for a moment, watching me as he chewed it over. I wasn’t sure what remains of my composure was left, but stood still under his scrutiny. “...I thought it would make sense to. I thought maybe you could see Morgana again, and… I thought maybe it would be nice to see where you grew up.”

I nodded slowly, rubbing at my palm again. “S-so you did think… you just didn’t think to…” I clapped my mouth shut, choking on the words.

“Nikostratus,” He breathed, sounding exasperated, “Please, just tell me what I did wrong! I thought I was helping! I thought you would be pleased!” He took another step towards me, but stopped short as I took a returning step back. “... I just wanted to make you happy.”

I opened my mouth and closed it twice before I finally managed to work around the lump still in my throat. “You did think…” I repeated, then glanced up at him, “...You just didn’t think to ask me.”

He blinked, then threw up his hands. “Ask you what? What was I supposed to ask you?” I winced visibly at his gesture, and he quickly corrected himself into a less intimidating shape. He heaved a quiet sigh. “... Ok... Then I’m asking now… What should we do? What do you want?”

I took another shaky step back even though he hadn’t moved, and found myself bumping into the back of the couch. I leaned against it heavily, easing the weight off my feet, and my shoulders slumped slightly. I noticed him start to inch closer now, and glanced up at him warily. The expression on his face… It was too loud for my eyes which were still attuned to pick up the minute changes of a stone mask. His pain, his confusion, his frustration. It almost burned me to see it so plainly written across his sharp features. I looked away.

“... I-I… I don’t…” I swallowed hard, digging my fingers into the fabric of the couch beneath my palms. “... I-I don’t want … I don’t want to go back.” I forced the words painfully from my mouth, and almost shuddered as they came out. I dropped my head with the confession, bringing my hands up to cradle it. “I don’t want to go back…”

Then he was there, at my side, reaching up as if to touch my face. But he hesitated, though I wasn’t sure if it was out of deference to me or because my own hands were still covering it. I peeked at him between my fingers, before slowly lowering them again. Keeping my head bowed. I felt my mask breaking down, and it cut me deeply as it fell. I was left raw, and so unnerved I shifted and shook my head once more. If I hadn’t clenched my hands into fists, they would’ve quivered where they rested.

“I-if I say it… I-I’ll ruin it.” I told him softly, my voice weak even to my own ears. I paused, hesitating again. “That’s… that’s what always happens. But… I don’t want to go back… Grier… I…. I like it here… W-with… With you.”

I let him touch me now. I didn’t resist as his hand came up and smoothed across my cheek. “You’re not going back. You don’t have to go back.” His thumb rolled against my skin again. “You can stay with me, if that’s what you want.”

“... I-I…” I shivered, and he gently rubbed his hand along my jaw soothingly. I reached up, cupping my hand over his. “I’m... I’m not sure… but… But I think...” I felt ashamed with the way I leaned into his palm, closing my eyes. Breathing in his scent. I was weak, and I couldn’t resist the warmth of his touch against the chaos of my mind. I shook my head slightly and retreated from my uncertainty into more familiar waters. “... He doesn’t know.”

“Who doesn’t know?” He sounded surprised by my sudden switch.

“The King. He doesn’t know Valerianus came here. That’s why they didn’t send word. That’s why he came undercover.” I turned, slowly opening my eyes again to meet his, calming with his gentle touch. “The King doesn’t want our help. He must have forbidden the formal request. So Valerianus went behind his back and came anyway.”

To my surprise, Grier chuckled, stepping closer and reaching up with his opposite hand to trace it along my neck. “Well, perhaps you and your brother have more in common than I originally thought.”

“Not that much…” I said dryly, and Grier laughed again.

“There you are, my young Prince.” He murmured sweetly, slowly smoothing his hand against the tender flesh at the side of my neck. I felt my tension start to ease at the tenderness in his voice. “I was worried for a moment we were back to where we started two weeks ago.” I dropped my gaze shyly, and felt his thumb roll against my cheek. “I would hate to start over again… especially after last night. That would be a special kind of torture.”

Instantly I felt my face flush, and started to shake my head. My heart raced in my chest, and I would have stood to escape his embarrassingly forward words had he not been standing directly in front of me. His new chuckle was deep in his throat, and I could hear his smile in his words; though I refused to look at him.

“Ah, yes. Apologies. I will politely refrain from mentioning that I slept in your arms last night. It is far too scandalous to bear.” He teased, and I nearly squeaked as my cheeks blazed. His responding laugh did nothing to soothe me. “You do know we’re getting married, right? This will hopefully become a regular occurrence, if I have any say in it.”

I swallowed hard, blinking rapidly and trying to clear the fog settling around my thoughts at his words. “A-ah… b-but not yet…” I’m not sure how I managed to flush an even darker shade, yet felt even hotter at his words. “... I-it’s improper until… umm…”

He freed his hand from under mine and tucked it beneath my chin to gently tilt my face towards him. “Says who?”

I was surprised by his question, my hand falling back to the couch, and adjusted my tongue in my mouth for a moment before responding. “Etiquette. Even a betrothed couple does not share…” I dropped off, and tried to look away. But he kept a firm grip on my chin, keeping me in place. I glanced at his scarlet eyes. “N-not until they are married, at least…”

He smirked, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight. “For human couples, perhaps.” He tilted his head to the side. “But we are not a human couple… nor a goblin couple.” He thumbed my lip, and I saw his attention drop to it briefly before flicking back up to my eyes. “I think we can make up our own rules, given the circumstances.” He leaned in a little. “I am King, afterall. And what good is it to be King if I don’t get a few… benefits?” His grin became more coy. “For instance, having a handsome Prince as my betrothed… and in my bed.”

I shivered slightly as he skimmed his thumb over my lip once more, watching his eyes dart down to it again. His words left me scalding hot and flustered, and I made some useless sounds for a moment. I was surprised he could stand touching my cheek considering its blaze... Though I supposed he had a point... I had no good argument for him, nor, I realized quietly, did I want to find one, and so fell silent. But couldn’t help my own eyes flick down to his own lips. I watched them split into a thin smile as I did, and swallowed nervously.

“So tell me, my young Prince... What would I have to do to earn another kiss?” He murmured, easing himself between my knees so that his torso almost scraped mine and my thighs brushed against his hips.

My breath faltered and I felt the flush spreading beyond my face. I would have leaned away, but was already precariously perched on the back of the couch. Despite this, I was still a little taller than the goblin, and he tilted my chin down to keep our eyes locked. I swallowed again, and couldn’t help glancing back at his lips. He stretched up on his tiptoes, lingering barely a hair’s breadth away from my mouth.

“Not much…” I mumbled in reply without thinking, my head already spinning. Our lips almost brushed together as I formed the words, so close did he linger to mine. I fought to try and regain my senses, but found myself far too distracted by his proximity and the heat washing through my body at the sensation of his breath whispering across my lips.

His smile became teasing, and I saw his thin eyebrows wiggle in amusement. “Well, I am sending a contingent of my people to cure your home city of a deadly illness… Perhaps that is deserving of a reward?”

I almost smiled back, and the corners of my mouth twitched. I saw his eyes light up at the sight, and I couldn’t resist leaning forward. Closing that last little whisper of space. Brushing our lips together ever so lightly. I felt him lift off the balls of his feet, pressing in a little closer. But I fell back shyly after a moment.

He rocked back himself, eyes fluttering to glance at my lips again before meeting my gaze. “... I also didn’t throw that pitiful excuse for a guard into a cell for his disrespect. That was pretty good of me, wasn’t it?”

My lips twitched again, and I boldly bent down, kissing him lightly once more. His mouth parted slightly and I could taste his breath in my lungs. A moment later, I leaned back again, and he ran his thumb along my cheek.

“... How about the fact that I was properly civil to your brother? I didn’t try to get him all flustered-”

“You did try.”

“Well,” he scoffed, “But I stopped! That’s got to count for something.”

I didn’t bother arguing, secretly happy to have an excuse to curl back down to kiss him one more time. He stretched up as far as he could go, pressing our mouths together. I felt a tickle of excitement run through me as his hand at my jaw slid back to wrap around the base of my skull. I recognized his trap for what it was, but allowed him to pull me into it anyways even as my heart skipped in my breast. He stepped in closer, brushing our bodies together. My own hand moved from the couch to slide slowly around his waist. I could feel his grin of pleasure against my mouth. Could feel the skim of his sharp teeth against my lips. I responded willingly as he deepened the kiss, and I felt his long tongue slip past my defenses as his hand previously at the side of my neck began to slide firmly down my front. I quickly began to try and think of something else as I suddenly realized his end goal and my whole body began to grow hot.

Grier moved carefully, but purposefully, his lower hand massaging along my sides before trailing lazily down to my hips. He brought his body closer, his hair spilling like strands of wheat hued water down his back as he craned his neck to keep our mouths locked together. I kept my free hand on the back of the couch for balance, and it twitched as his tongue twirled around mine. I could feel each breath he drew press his chest against me, and the heat of him melted through my clothes. I maintained a rolling monologue in my head to distract myself, but couldn’t resist curling my shoulders to better crush our mouths together and let him rock back on his heels. Couldn’t help the little hitch in my breath as he kneaded his fingers against my muscles.

He shifted his grip on the back of my head, rolling his thumb under my chin and finally breaking us apart. Though only to angle my face to the side, then his lips came against my jaw. I felt his tongue flick at my earlobe and shuddered. Redoubling my mental efforts as he traced his hot mouth down the side of my neck, even as his lower hand began to squeeze and work up my inner thigh.

“Shva... vent, non…”

Grier pulled back, looking up at me with surprise. Instantly I flushed dark, and swallowed hard. Clamping my lips shut as I realized I had let my mental efforts slip into a much more physical form.

“... What was that?”

I shook my head sharply, quickly dropping my gaze. “N-Nothing!”

“... You said something.” His head cocked to the side, his actions stilled in his curiosity. “I think it was in goblinese. What did you say?”

“A-ah… I-I… I was umm…” My lips felt bruised and numb, and my tongue certainly wasn’t up to par. I swallowed hard, rubbing at the back of my neck with my free hand guiltily. “I-I was… I was reciting the goblinese alphabet… backwards...”

He laughed out loud in bewilderment, a wide grin splitting his face. I was still too embarrassed to meet his eyes, but he slid his hand around to cup my cheek again. “What ever for??”

I cleared my throat, still blushing furiously. “...To… um… dis-distract myself.”

“To…” He stopped suddenly, as he realized what I meant. I wasn’t sure how his grin managed to grow even bigger. “Well. And here I thought I was simply failing to impress.” He leaned back in, until our noses touched, and my breath hitched with the intensity in his scarlet eyes. “... Don’t mind me then. I won’t stop you.”

I jumped as he nipped lightly at the tip of my nose with his pointed teeth. Then he gently pushed my head to the side and began to lick and suck at the curve where my neck met my jaw. The sensation coupled with his breath in my ear sent goosebumps spiking across my skin, and I shivered. I felt his hand on my leg begin to move again, in coordination as his other slid down my chest then around my waist to rub at my back. Pulling me closer to him as his mouth worked its way down my jugular. My head swirled at the sensations he pulled from me, and I felt my mouth drop open a little.

I blinked rapidly, trying to push aside the heat rippling through me. My mental fortifications were not enough anymore, with his hot tongue rolling across sensitive flesh… I switched tactics.

“... Vent… n-non,” I breathed aloud, as softly as I could, then I gasped a little as he grazed his teeth against the crook of my neck, “Mwun-n… tw...t-twa… nya...” I felt him trace the pad of his thumb across the stiffening bulge between my legs, despite my best efforts to deny its existence, his touch teasingly feather light. My arm around his waist clenched and flexed as I attempted to hold still. “Sh-sho… ack…” He undid the top button of my shirt collar with his teeth, “... N-nya…”

“You already said ‘nya’.” He murmured, his voice husky, and I felt his long tongue flick at the hollow at the base of my neck. Another ripple of excitement washed through me. I didn’t have the presence of mind to respond.

“... Sho… a-ack…” His hand was pressing harder against me, pinning my erection against my pelvic muscles. I couldn’t help rolling forward ever so slightly into his movement, if only to keep from being pushed off the couch. The rough fabric of my pants against the sensitive flesh combined with his pressure was making my lips fumble uselessly over my attempts to stay on track. “... h-hau..” He eased his way along its length until his thumb found the head, and I drew in a sharp breath. “Shit.”

His chuckle vibrated against my own throat. “That’s not one of ours.” He moved his lips against my skin as he spoke, and I shivered at the sensation with a huffy breath escaping between my clenched teeth.

My free hand grabbed at the wild hair at the back of his head, and I yanked him away from his administrations at my neck. Forcing his head back and crashing our mouths together once more. His hand rubbing at me curled, finding purchase to partially wrap around my cock through my trousers. I fed him a groan, sliding my thighs almost closed to pin him between them. He nearly pushed me off my perch with his feverous pursuit of my lips, and I shifted carefully to accommodate him. I felt his smile, and tasted his delight as he slipped his tongue back into my mouth. I sucked at it lightly, daring to slide my hand at his middle down to his backside and pull him closer. I hesitated, faltering slightly, but was only rewarded by his hand as he began to massage it rhythmically up and down my member. I found my own hand could cover almost the entire spans of one cheek, and took up a handful of his ass with a firm squeeze. Jerking his hips towards me. I swore I could taste his own excitement and delight.

Suddenly there was a loud knock that had us both jumping. I started to fall backwards in alarm, and had to release him sharply to grab at my seat and keep from toppling over the edge of the couch. Grier hooked his other hand around my waist as well to steady me, panting slightly as he glanced over his shoulder angrily.

“Ta mal’shon??” He snapped loudly. I quickly fumbled, starting to straighten myself. I was impeded by his unwillingness to free me from his arms.

“Apologies for the interruption, My King,” Came Hibik’s voice, muffled through the door, “The goblins you requested are assembled and awaiting your address-”

“Then let them wait!” He shot back.

My eyes widened slightly. “Y-you can’t make them wait.”

He scoffed. “Sure I can.” His hungry eyes returned to me. “... An hour won’t hurt them.”

I was shaking my head, my flush returning as I moved to stand. “Grier-”

“Don’t you ‘Grier’ me.” He grumbled as I slowly started to unwrap his arms from around me. “You almost never say my name. You can’t use it against me now.”

I paused, looking down at his wrists in my hands. I hesitated, but then ran my thumbs over them. My blood was still rushing through me and my head pounded. Not to mention the painful throbbing ache at my pelvis. But my thoughts were slowly clearing without his mouth on mine and his body pressed against me. I swallowed hard and shook my head, trying to further clear it. Even as they attempted to wander back to...

“...Perhaps it’s for the best,” I mumbled, still staring at his hands, “I-I shouldn’t have let things… get so out of hand.”

He groaned, shaking his head. “This is EXACTLY what I was afraid would happen. You’re going to end up overthinking this, and then-”

“I’ll…” I cut him off, then hesitated, stopping short, “I’ll… try not to do that… But, ah…” I blushed profusely, releasing one of his hands to reach up and rub at the back of my neck. “If… you know… w-well…” I cleared my throat and shifted my weight before changing the subject. “... There’s still a lot to do before tomorrow…”

That was certainly a sobering thought. The reminder of my impending return to my father’s kingdom had the blood draining out of my face. My expression must have shifted noticeably, because Grier’s turned his wrist still in my grasp to intertwine our fingers and give a gentle squeeze.

“We don’t have to go.” He told me. “I’ll send Hibik. I’ll make some excuse.”

I shook my head again. “It’s… It’s too late now. We have to. Besides… “ I sighed, “If the King is going to be involved, things are going to get… difficult. I should be there… To smooth things over.”

He winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it through. Didn’t think about what returning there would mean to you.”

I hesitated, then squeezed his hand back. “I’ll be fine.”

The goblin’s eyes flicked to the door, then coyly back up to me through pale lashes. “... I don’t suppose I could just convince you to pick up where we left off?”

I laughed, short and brisk, my head shaking again to hide the twitch at the corner of my mouth and the fresh wave of heat that washed through me at the thought. I heard him sigh again, giving a soft grumble. I looked back down at our hands, and nervously ran my thumb over his.

“... It sounds stupid… but, I’m kind of…” I stopped, biting my tongue and feeling the flush rise back to my face.

“Whatever it is, it’s not stupid.” Grier reassured me, his voice soft. “... Tell me.”

I rubbed at the back of my neck again. “... I’m kind of glad we were… ah…” I swallowed, my eyes flicking over to the couch, my skin tingling. “... Interrupted… I would prefer to be less… um...I-I sort of thought that it… that w-we…”

He waited as patiently as he was able, distracting himself with bringing his free hand up to run over my knuckles and the inside of my wrist. I swallowed, watching him for a moment as I tried to pluck up the courage to finish my train of thought.

“W-well… I thought we could… that we could… make it …. You know… ah… s-special.” My face blazed as I forced the final word stutteringly from my mouth. I shuffled my feet sheepishly. “A-ah, I’m sorry, that sounds dumb-”

“It sounds romantic.” Came his soothing reply, and I dared a glance up at him. He smiled warmly at me, sliding his free hand up my arm as he snuck in closer. “I like the idea. Less hungry. More intentional.” His smile grew. “Still passionate though.”

“Y-you don’t have to humor me-” I started, already starting to get a little flustered and distracted by his proximity as his roaming hand slipped about my waist. I could almost feel it rolling up and down my member again.

“I’m not.” He assured me, pulling our clasped hands to tuck behind him. Pressing the back of my hand into the small of his back. He chuckled almost sheepishly. “Honestly, if the candlelit dinner in the garden didn’t clue you in that I’m a romantic at heart, I’m not sure what would.” His smile became sly, and I swallowed nervously. “You know, all the good love stories have a Prince charming in them... I never thought I’d be lucky enough to find my own.”

A tingle shot down my spine, and I didn’t even realize I was leaning down to meet him as he stretched up until our lips brushed together again. The scent of him drove me near mad, and my mind raced. I felt his deep, contented sigh, felt him begin to melt against me again, pinning our bodies back together. I started to pull back, but his arm around my middle tightened.

“Grier,” I breathed against his lips, distracted, but insistent.

He kissed me again, and I lingered in the taste of him for a moment. I drew our mouths apart, but didn’t withdraw far. His breath still splashed against my cheeks as he sighed again.

“I know, I know…” He murmured, and rolled up onto his tiptoes to press our lips back together. I blinked stupidly for a moment when he rocked back on his heels again. “... I’ve never had such a compelling reason before to forget being King…” He grinned up at me like a fool. “... Can we move the wedding up?”

I stiffened a little at that, and gave a nervous laugh. Uncurling, I straightened to my full height, and he dropped his arm from around my waist. But our other hands remained clasped, and he brought them around between us again. He ran his thumb back and forth over my knuckles.

“... You know about the lower city?” He asked softly. “The layout, the entrances?” I nodded, still distracted by the lingering taste of him on my tongue. “I’ll send the Masters to speak with you after I’m done with them. To plan how to best meet with the people, then how to clear and ward the rest of the city.”

I nodded again, coming back to the present a little more with his words. “Of course, Your- ah…” I stopped myself, seeing his glower. “S-sorry… Force of habit.”

He gave a snort at that, but shook his head, letting it go. “And the castle?”

“I know the entire kingdom by heart.” I assured him. “Every brick and flagstone.”

He squeezed my hand gently, then reluctantly dropped it. “... We’ll likely be working through the night to get everything ready. If you find time to get some rest, please take it.” His scarlet eyes flicked up to me. “And eat, yes?”

“What about you?”

Grier waved away my question. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll make sure Hibik brings me my own pot of coffee to keep me from laying siege to anyone… Unless that bastard King tries anything funny.” The silence grew tense momentarily until he noticed, glancing over at me. He winced, then smirked apologetically. “I jest, my young Prince. No sieging. No wars... Just healing magic.”

I cocked an eyebrow slightly, but didn’t have time to remain doubtful as his arm was suddenly around my middle again. He nearly had to jump off his toes to plant a quick, light kiss against me. Instantly my face flushed again, even before he landed back on his feet. His laugh bounced about the room as he spun on heel, darting to the door before I could retaliate.

“I’ll see you soon, my young Prince.” He called in farewell as he slipped out into the hallway beyond.

I sighed heavily, shaking my head and rolling my shoulders back. I was certain I would be kept nearly as busy as he, and could find a way to make myself useful if not. I shifted my weight, wincing, and tugging at my clothes to straighten them.

…. Perhaps a cold bath first.

.....

UPDATE: Part Nine HERE

#Royal Flush #goblin king #goblin lover #goblin husband #monster x human #monster x male #mlm #male x male #terato #exophilia #monster lover #monster husband #slow burn #angst #monster romance #monster royalty #arranged marriage

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simplyminovet · 3 years ago

Photo

All medical crisis aren’t visible. Those that know me can hear and see the difference in my speed. But some of us still look great during our poor health flares. Instead of judging someone for looking well while stating that they are ill, how about we thank God that they aren’t laid up and looking like a leper. Because last week, I was looking like it, feeling like it, and fearful of the outcome of my scare and I’m so grateful to be out, and about and looking like myself again. I’m also less stressed even though getting up and getting dressed is a daunting task for me these days. It takes a lot for me to put clothes on and leave the house. I’m super slow motion. I’m not back to 100%, by far, but definitely feeling better. Thank you everyone for your prayers. I am trying to remain laser focused on health and prepare for a double surgery in 6days. 😱 So please, still no talk of business. I’m not mentally ready for that yet. #DownButNotOut #photodump #selfies #t1d #t1dlookslikeme #t1dawareness #diabeticchick #blackdiabetic #health #healthjourney #myhealthjourney #blackgirlmagic #healthiswealth #chronicillnessawareness #minovet @simplyminovet https://www.instagram.com/p/CS-wqGkN27y/?utm_medium=tumblr

#downbutnotout #photodump #selfies #t1d #t1dlookslikeme #t1dawareness #diabeticchick #blackdiabetic #health #healthjourney #myhealthjourney #blackgirlmagic #healthiswealth #chronicillnessawareness #minovet

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shelbywanders · 4 years ago

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Chapter 23: Infertile

So...let’s start from the beginning yeah?

February 2018, we found out the best news, we were expecting! With my past history, we thought for sure we would be trying for a while. So the fact that I was staring at a positive pregnancy test after just a mere two months trying to get pregnant was unreal. But 9 extremely long, tiring and definitely taken for granted months, out popped the greatest gift I’ve ever been given; my Adeline Mae!

She was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, I know that sounds so cliche. She came out looking like her daddy’s clone (go figure) except for that sweet little button nose & I just couldn’t believe that we had made something so damn perfect.

I won’t get into the details of being a new mum and all that jazz in this post, but of course, there’s a lot that goes on in the first year. But one thing that started to get on me and my husband’s minds pretty quickly was growing our family. When Addy was around 6 months, we decided it was time to start trying again. We always talked about having our kiddos close in age and at the time, we wanted lots of them. I had a hard pregnancy with Addy, but that didn’t change my feelings about wanting that big family I always dreamed of having with the person I loved. I have three younger brothers who are 10, 8, & 7. I’ve grown to love how close they are in age and wanted that for my kids too. Me and my older sister are 4 years apart and while we’re super close now, there came a time where we weren't. We’ve always envisioned ourselves with kids just a couple years apart, and get all of our baby making years out of the way so that we can then stop, relax and watch all our kids grow up together. Of course, plans don’t always exactly go as planned.

I exclusively breastfed Adeline until she was 20 months. When we started trying, my periods had returned but weren’t regular at all anymore. So I started my TTC journey a bit different than I did back in 2018. OPK’s became my best friend and little did I know how many I would go through the next almost two years and counting. But they did help me learn more about my cycle and I grew accustomed over constantly peeing on things every day.

We were super excited in the beginning, it always is. It’s fun, it’s sexy, it’s exhilarating. The two week wait is exciting as you anxiously wait to pee on some more sticks. The first few times of getting your period, of course it’s a let down, but you keep on keeping on because surely...it will happen soon! Until it doesn’t...

Around Addy’s first birthday which was around 6/7 months of trying I started to get that aching feeling that was new to me. Why isn’t it happening? Shouldn't I be pregnant by now? What are we doing wrong? In our grand plan of our life, I was wanting to be pregnant by Addy’s first birthday and that came and went. Sex wasn’t much fun anymore, I was tired of having to buy more ovulation tests and tired of squinting at clearly negative but also wait, is that a line? tests over and over again. But of course...we just kept trying, praying that next month will be our month.

December came, month 7/8. I was so busy creating orders for my small shop and we weren’t hardcore tracking. We did the the deed once, the day before my birthday. Two weeks later, I realized I was late. Two days late actually. What?! This hasn’t happened before...grabbed the nearest test to me and finally. Finally. Two pink little lines. A faint line, but a line nonetheless! We were pregnant!!! I remember running to the store to get more tests because I have to see the progression, ya know, peace of mind. I stopped in the kids clothing section and spotted a cute “Big Sister” shirt and grabbed it. I wanted Addy to wear it out and see how long it took my hubby to notice what her shirt said. Unfortunately, she never got to wear that shirt and it’s stashed in the bottom of her dresser three sizes too small now.

To keep it short and sweet, we lost our squishy baby that should’ve stuck around for 9 months and created a family of four just a couple of weeks after finding out. Instead, it started a whirlwind of emotions that I didn’t even know I could feel and a fight that we’re still battling to as I type this all out. Maybe one day I’ll make another blog about the miscarriage and all the feelings that came with it, just not in this post.

At this point, here we are entering 2020 grieving the loss of what would’ve been. We picked ourselves up as much as we could and kept on going. Trying. Praying. Crying. Trying. Praying. Crying. We hit a year TTC in May 2020 and I felt a new level of hopelessness. Chapter 23: Infertile?... But how? I’ve gotten pregnant easily in the past, I’ve carried a baby, my body has done this before...what is wrong? 13 months TTC and we had the talk. The talk about trying to find answers and get some help. I set up a costly consultation with a fertility clinic in June. Our insurance doesn’t cover anything so of course, it was a big decision we had to make. While waiting for my cycle to start so that we could start fertility treatments, I had my first chemical pregnancy. So that was another heartache...moving on.

August 2020, I have my first medicated cycle with my RE. I was on Clomid 50mg, triggered with Ovidrel and progesterone supplements after ovulation. The first cycle was perfect. Absolutely beautiful. I was ecstatic! My body responded so well to the meds and I ovulated at the perfect time and everything seemed great. Didn’t get pregnant, which sucked. $1200 in the hole, but hey! The meds worked. Let’s try again. Second cycle, same thing. My body didn’t respond at all. Nothing. Cycle cancelled...$1200 done the drain again. At this point the holidays were quickly approaching and our wallets were struggling so we put a hold on fertility treatments and we haven’t done any since. The month after we stopped, I had another chemical. That felt like a big ol’ screw you.

Hold tight, you’re almost caught up! We’re nearing the end of 2020, thank GOD. That hellish year needed to leave STAT. January 2021. New starts, new chances. I had an appt with my primary to talk about what I have been suspecting to be the problem of our infertility struggles. And that’s when a diagnosis came around. PCOS. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. it’s one of the most common reproductive conditions in women and one of the leading causes for infertility. It runs in my family, my symptoms matched, I just couldn’t see it being anything else. As for Addy? I truly think we just got lucky. Blessed. I will never question it. I’m beyond grateful because I cannot imagine not having her right now. I started on Metformin a couple of weeks ago, a drug that helps treat PCOS. I also started a diet and have lost about 15 lbs so far! My motivation is because after this we will probably start doing IUI’s and I want to make sure I’m in good health so that are chances are as good as they can be. But of course...we are praying and hoping that it doesn’t come to that and by some miracle, we get pregnant naturally again before we go down that road.

So there it is! You’re caught up. I didn’t go into many details on individual experiences because I knew this post was already going to be long. I just felt like a little synopsis of our TTC & infertility journey was needed before I continue writing about my experiences! I’ve felt pretty alone, even though I have people around me who care and love for me but they just haven’t gone through this so it’s hard to relate to anyone. I find writing to help. Getting it out there even if no one reads it. I am absolutely determined to make 2021 beautiful and I believe in every inch of me that our rainbow baby is coming to us. This month. Next month. Maybe at the end of the year. But I know it will happen...I can’t lose hope even if I wanted to. I’m hoping by sharing our journey, we can all find hope within each other. You’re not alone. I’m not alone. Our wishes will come true. Our prayers will be answered. As they say...even miracles take a little time.

xoxo shelby

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dailyaudiobible · 3 years ago

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09/22/2021 DAB Transcript

Isaiah 39:1-41:16, Ephesians 1:1-23, Psalm 66:1-20, Proverbs 23:25-28

Today is the 22nd day of September, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible, I’m Brian. It is my joy and honor and privilege to be here in my seat around the Global Campfire and it is so good to be here with you around this Global Campfire that we call home. This little oasis in the thick of the world and the craziness of it all. This one place that we go and take deep breaths and let them go and allow God's word to speak in a safe and serene place. And so, let's dive in, we’re continuing our journey through the book of Isaiah. When we get to the New Testament, we have some new territory to move into; the letter to the Ephesians and we’ll talk about that when we get there, but first Isaiah chapter 39 verse 1 through 41 verse 16.

Introduction to the Book of Ephesians:

Okay, that brings us here to the beginning of the letter to the Ephesians, which is going to take us into some new territory and some new ways of thinking. Ephesians is different than any of the other letters that we've read so far, which leads and has led certain biblical scholars to wonder who wrote this, clearly, its Paul line, clearly, it comes from his theology and from his way of thinking, but some wonder like, is this his style or did this come later, or are there developments that are later? Did Paul actually write this? And that's been up to…for debate for…for a long time. But then other Biblical scholars would be like, look, these letters were being passed around and copied and sent to each other all over the places, there would be nuances. There's no way to nail this down and that's equally fair. And Ephesians, well Ephesus is not a place that Paul wasn't familiar with. So, the people receiving this letter knew Paul and he knew them, which could explain some of the differences in the ways that he speaks. I guess if you're writing a letter to people you don't know to introduce yourself or to a church, maybe that you’ve founded and you know the leadership but it has grown and there are new people involved. That’d be different than if you're writing a personal letter to a group of people that you knew them all. Paul had spent about three years in Ephesus in the community that was established there, that he had established there. Ephesus was an important city in the Roman Empire. It was a port city. So, imports and exports are coming in and out of there as well as people from all over the place, arriving by ship, which would obviously make it a melting pot of different customs and different spiritual ideas. Ephesians is a little different, because Paul's not writing to correct a bunch of stuff and we've seen that in the letters so far where he's correcting things because of others who have come in and taught differently. He's correcting things that he's been asked directly about; he’s correcting things that he's heard are going on. Rather, he's writing to people he knows and he's been arrested at this point. So, he's writing this from prison. That's really compelling, like, once we start reading this, to imagine that this was written from an incarcerated person that was up for capital punishment, like, a life-and-death case is pretty remarkable because Ephesians gives us a glimpse into who we are because of what Jesus has done and where this is all going and it gives us a glimpse of the good news that, if you really just stop and think about some of the things that are being said, it's almost like, how can that, that is to good, that is so good that it makes you think how do I, that's the world I want to live in, like that, yes how do I get there? So, for Paul to be in prison and sending along this encouragement is really compelling to read. And you can imagine, Paul gets arrested as a ringleader of those who are now following Jesus. Those who are now known as Christians. If you're in the Roman Empire near a Gentile, and you’ve heard of Paul and you’ve kind of, you’re in the culture and you kind of know that there's some things stirring around this, you’re not necessarily, I mean like, if he’s in jail and he could be executed. You probably not looking for how you can sign up to be part of this club and if you have found Jesus and now Paul's in jail and could be killed. It's hard to think about how you would navigate the marginalization and how you would navigate what you’re going to do, how you going to manage with the culture turning against you. So, for Paul to write such grand views of the faith. Such hopeful things to contemplate is really beautiful on a lot of levels. So, let's dive in, it's a letter, it's not a superlong letter but let's drink every drop and let it lift our spirits and lift our eyes to the horizon that we might see what's really going on here instead of just trying to cope and survive. And with that we begin Ephesians chapter 1.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word. We thank You for this new territory that we are moving into in the letter to the Ephesians. Holy Spirit come, reset our vision, reset our attitude and our convictions as we contemplate what is in this letter over these next few days. Come, Holy Spirit, and lead us into all truth. This is a promise and we need the Spirit of truth to guide our steps, so come, Jesus we pray in your mighty name, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base that’s the Daily Audio Bible website. And that’s where you can certainly find out what's happening around here. If using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can find everything within the app as well. Check out the different sections, check out the Daily Audio Bible Shop. There are a lot of resources there in the Shop that are, that are for our community around the Global Campfire. It’s specifically for our journey through the Bible together in a year, whether that be Global Campfire apparel or things to carry around or whether that be the Daily Audio Bible journal and the black wing pencils and all of the writing instruments that go along with journaling. That's all been created for the, for the journey. It's remarkable to Journal your way through the Bible in a year. Amazing, the things that happen and the things that become clear and the things that are challenging that God gets us through to have that documented, that’s a beautiful thing and so, and it's a biblical thing so we…we encourage that. Or other resources like The God of Your Story, which is 365 days of written commentary like what we talk about every day on the Daily Audio Bible leading us through the Bible in a year and that is a fantastic resource every day. Actually, it’s a great resource every day may be each morning or each night, whatever. Like if you listen to Daily Audio Bible in the morning and kind of just glance through God of Your Story at night you just kind of lock some things in or see them from a different perspective because what we talk about at Daily Audio Bible each year, that's always very dynamic to what's going on and how it's hitting us on that particular day. So, there are many resources for the journey and you can find them in the Daily Audio Bible Shop whether using the app or the web.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, thank you, humbly, humbly, thank you. We would not be here. We would not be here if we were not in this together and we have been in this together for a lot of years now and I’m deeply humbled and deeply, deeply grateful. There is a link at dailyaudiobible.com on the homepage. If you’re using the app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is P.O. Box 1996 Springhill, Tennessee 37174.

And as always if you have a prayer request or encouragement you can hit the Hotline button in the app or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I'm Brian, I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Prayer and Encouragements:

Hello Daily Audio Bible family, this is Asia from the City of Angels. And I just had to call in and pray for our sister Vicki from Northern California. Vicki, we hear, we hear the fragility in your voice as you tell your DAB family what happened to your son but yet we hear the strength of your faith in our Lord Jesus Christ and in the glory of God, even in your child and you’re suffering. I just want to give it up to you and my heart goes out to you, our arms are lifted to hold you during this time, our sister, and to give you the love of Jesus right now, through your fellow DAB family for what you're going through with the loss of your son. And, I do pray right now also Father God, please protect all of our medical care workers, our caregivers and workers in these environments Lord, in these current COVID times we’re living through. We just pray for them. We pray for their protection. We pray for their courage and we pray for their own health in this season, Father God. And, I just wanted you say thank you to the DAB Family for just your love, just showing everyone the love of Jesus Christ. Thank you.

I just want to praise God. And I want to thank you all for your prayers. Today, is September 18th and I am a little behind on my, on my, on listening to the Daily Audio Bible. I just…just finished listening to September 14 and at the end Cam in California had requested prayer for rain out here in the West. And I just want to tell you, I am driving on Highway 58 through the mountains in Oregon and it is raining. It started raining yesterday. We haven’t had rain for a long time and it has been so smoky and so dry, there’s been so many fires out here. It's just been really, really, really a rough summer. But it is raining and everything is wet. Everything is crisp and the air is clean and I just want to tell you that God is so awesome. And He’s heard your prayers. The prayers that have been prayed since Cam’s request aired on September 14th, four days before it started raining. God has heard your prayers and He has answered. And I just wanted to praise Him and I just want to thank you all for praying for us out here. We are so grateful for this rain, praise You God. You are so awesome, praise You.

Hello, Jermain here, new to the DAB community. And, I’ve been pretty moved by the different prayer requests and praise reports at the end of these talks and I wanted to request some prayer for a good friend of mine, his name is Bill. He has…he has done a lot of work for the Lord and he's brought a lot of, exposed a lot of people to Jesus since I’ve met him. A very strong soldier for the Lord. And, he, in the past couple years, he…he got schizophrenia and his relationship has been very, very rocky with God since then. At times, it appears he's an enemy of God. And I know it's has a lot to do with his mind, but I want to pray, I want to ask that we could, if you would pray for his healing. But in addition to that, pray also for everyone who is…who his around him, and help us to, pray that we would receive divine assistance in loving him the way that he should be loved cause it has been very hard since…since he's changed in this way, it’s like he’s a, almost like a completely different person. But that is my, that is my prayer request and I appreciate the existence of this community and I'm looking forward to getting more involved. Hopefully meeting…meeting some of you. Bye bye.

Hey Daily Audio Bible family. It's James no longer the teacher in LA after 11 years with our fine school district. I actually moved to a school district north of Los Angeles and been there for little over a month now and honestly spent a lot of those first weeks questioning the wisdom of my decision, finding out that benefits weren’t gonna be as good, a lot of things weren’t gonna be as good but you know what, I met another teacher there who was just reminding me that working for the students like this can be ministry and that's the word they used was ministry. And boy if that didn’t re-light a fire that's been inside me for a long time that made my last few months really crushed. So, in the last week, seven days, I’ve had the opportunity to reach out to four students already, but the good news, in one form or another, like one a day. And I went over to thank this teacher for just their kind words and they said this past Friday, they shared the news with three students in a day and this is not normal for either of us so please be lifting up our high school. Also, my therapist is really sick actually worried for his well-being so you can lift up my therapist John too. So, thanks family love you guys and I don't know if I could do this without you guys. Bye.

Dear sister, I hope I get your name right I think it was Vicki from California. That’s the lady whose son passed away on, I believe August 18, he took his own life. As soon as I heard this story that you told I texted my own son and told him I love him and we talked briefly on the phone. He had PTSD for other reasons but never been in the heroic position that your son has been in for such a long time. And we are so grateful to him and to all the medical people who’ve been right there on the front line, struggling in this battle. Lord, would you uphold this dear mom, thank You for her testimony of faith in You Lord. And, thank You for her son, who ministered really to all of us, day-in and day-out as we fight in this battle against the COVID virus. I pray it would go away soon. That we would find even more and new ways to cooperate to get this to just not be part of our lives anymore. Bless this dear mom in Jesus name I pray.

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danieljohnsonjr · 3 years ago

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Semiannual Review and July Bullet Journal Setup

DISCLAIMER

Success means different things to different people. I tend to be very much achievement-oriented, and in this post I will list a number of those achievements. But I also want to point out HOW I've been able to make them possible.

I apologize in advance if any of this comes across as bragging. That's not my intention. My biggest competition is myself, and I am striving to become the best version of myself I can be.

In this post I will share some systems I have set up to help me. They are not necessarily meant to be prescriptive; you have to figure out what works for you.

I'm documenting this here because a few of you have found me sharing this sort of thing to be helpful and inspiring, and I definitely enjoy being helpful and inspiring! 🙂

Let's begin.

I DON'T DO NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS

I don't do New Year's Resolutions. Instead, I have a three-word theme to my year. The words for 2021 are MOLD, DEEPER, and STRENGTHEN.

Bullet Journaling, a concept invented by Ryder Carroll, has empowered me. One practice I've especially built in is regular reviews with myself. Having completed the first half of 2021, I recently did a Semiannual Review by going back through all the journals I've used.

In typical review fashion, I set up sections for What Worked and What Didn't. I also set up a section for What to Improve, as well as a section for Improvements.

See where the pen in this photo is? I originally had the heading for What Didn't there. But, as I continued reviewing, I needed to add more in What Worked. SO MUCH more that I had to use some Wite-Out correction tape (my friend) and move the What Didn't section down further!

So how has this helped me grow into my three-word theme so far?

MOLD

I'm praying to be molded more by God, to break molds (patterns) that no longer work for me, and to fill new molds like liquid wherever I'm needed.

Bullet journaling helps me with daily habit tracking as I'm spending time with Scripture and in prayer. Daily reflection is also a habit, and I've been doing weekly and monthly reviews to identify and break old patterns and set goals to build new ones.

DEEPER

I recognized that 2020 had constrained my relationships and set out in 2021 to go deeper, both in my relationship with God and my other relationships.

Bullet journaling helps me with this through daily habit tracking through the three Bible study plans I'm following this year. I also am keeping track of praying at least seven times (alarms on my phone a different times throughout the day also help me).

I've got weekly goals to touch base with family members. I've been working to send 52 thank you cards this year (average of one per week). I've got important dates like birthdays and wedding anniversaries I'm tracking so I can send greeting cards.

As an extroverted person, the isolation of the last year messed with my mental health. I’ve been determined that, regardless of constraints, I will work to maintain deeper relationships this year. I recognize that others may not reach out to me -- I cannot expect that. If I want deeper relationships, I will go after that. So I’m using my journal to track that I’m touching base with my family members via phone/text/in-person each week. Also, every month, I’m writing a letter to my brother who lives in Texas.

STRENGTHEN

This word was the last one that came to me at the end of 2020. Throughout the year, my heart function greatly improved. Whereas in December 2019 my heart function was only 20% of what it should normally be, by October it had returned to normal.

But, my cardiologist cautioned in January, that doesn’t mean that the congestive heart failure symptoms are completely gone, or that I shouldn’t remain vigilant.

This became especially apparent in March when I had to call the cardiac nurse on-call to talk about some shortness of breath I’d begun feeling.

After going over my medicines, she said: “I have to ask. Have you been watching your sodium and fluid intake?”

Of course I said, “Not really.”

“OK. This is is me, kicking your butt, to get you back to it!” she said.

So, when I think of STRENGTHEN, primarily it’s physically, especially related to my heart. But there also is the physical aspect of regular cardio exercise.

I’ve been using my journal to track my exercise (or showing me the lack of it), to feed my spirit, and to feed my mind.

A big part of all this has meant that I’m not watching as much TV. I’m tracking how many pages of books I’m reading, and I was so fired up to see that I read 8 books in June alone!

Another thing I realized during my semiannual review is just how hard it is for me to sit and do nothing at all. In fact, the only way I’m able to do it is to make it a task or goal so I can earn that task completion. It sounds funny, but, by keeping it among the other things I have going on, I’m reminding myself to make time to just do nothing for 30 minutes. I hope to see this practice as much a worthwhile endeavor as completing any other task.

Feeding and strengthening my spirit also involves priming for each day. I will work to motivate myself - often with music, In fact, I created a Spotify playlist (tap or click to listen): MOLD-DEEPER-STRENGTHEN 2021 to help with that. :)

WHAT DIDN’T WORK

I realized that, while many, many things DID work so far this year, here are some things that didn’t:

Excuses for not exercising

Emotional eating and living

Spreading myself too thin with too many goals to achieve at once

Being out of touch with goals in general (on my master list)

Periodic lack of focus throughout the day

Time-wasting activities (online games, etc.)

Reluctance to cook meals for my family

IMPROVEMENTS

Going forward, I want to track more finitely what is contributing to my energy level and overall health. So for July, I’ve set up a couple new trackers to track my energy level and sleep, as well as a food/drink/medicine log. I hope that, with the information here, that I’ll be able to “hack” my lifestyle better to strengthen myself.

I’ve also set a weekly goal to make meals and to meditate/schedule time to do nothing.

I’m including among my daily habit tracker an item to review the goals I have written down.

I’ve found so much help from having a daily gratitude journal. I like to identify three things I’m grateful for each day. Also, being achievement-oriented, I’ve got a Big Wins journal where I capture the “big win” for the day.

CELEBRATE EVERY VICTORY

I shared with someone many months ago about how easy it is for me to encourage others. They gave me the advice that I should do that with myself. So, as lofty as these goals have been, and while it’s so easy to see what I still need to do, it’s just as important for me to celebrate every victory, no matter how big or small.

Because, when all is said and done, I’m still getting better, and that’s what matters.

IF YOU’VE READ THIS FAR...

Thank you, my friend. As I said at the beginning, it’s not meant to be prescriptive for anyone; it’s just how I’m trying to figure this out for me. By all means adapt what you see for yourself it you want.

So, let’s all work toward doing the hard things. And let’s celebrate every victory!

#semiannualreview #bullet journal #bujo #mold #deeper #strengthen #resolutions #threewords2021

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the-general-hux · 5 years ago

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@finishwhxtyoustartxd

Armitage Hux rested his forehead against the cool glass of the passenger side window. His parents had stopped talking hours ago, his mother was asleep in the front seat and his father was driving with white-knuckled fingers crimped around the steering wheel. Hux shared the backseat with luggage that wouldn’t fit in the trunk of their rental sedan. His knees pressed against the back of the driver’s seat and he longed for chance to stretch out his legs. His eyes blinked open and shut as he looked out the window at the endless procession of trees.

Traffic slowed down and his father spat out a string of curses at the other drivers’ abilities to keep stopping distance on the rain slick road. The air smelled damp, even through the filter of the air conditioning. A small town appeared and a sign declared it Bayport. Perhaps the settlers had never heard of redundancy, Hux thought. A smiling whale spouted a flourish of water on the sign. Hux gritted his teeth and put in his headphones.

Tourists crossed the highway, oblivious to oncoming traffic and the increasing frequency of his father’s cursing. A bead shop. Souvenirs. Weed shop. Rinse and repeat. Hux caught a glimpse of some amazing biceps in front of a coffee shop and he wrenched his neck to see if the potential face matched the muscles, but his father turned a corner and Hux lost his sight line. He huffed out a sigh. Probably just a tourist, maybe one of those bikers that cruised up and down the Oregon coast. Doing what? Whale-watching?

They pulled into a driveway that was marked with a jaunty lighthouse, Driftwood Cove. They named the rental house. Of course they did. His father stopped the car, turned off the ignition and announced. “This is our home for the next month. Let’s try to not kill each other.”

“No promises.” Hux said and his mother shot him a warning look. “Fine. You work on your book, you work on your paintings and I’ll work on growing a thick coat of mildew.”

“Now darling, it’s not that bad. The ocean air is marvelous for my health and I only have so much time with you before you go off to college and leave me behind.”

Forty two days, six hours and twelve minutes, Hux thought as he got out of the car. He sighed again and nodded because that was what you did when your sick mother guilt tripped you. This wasn’t his idea of a beach holiday. The sky was painted in shades of blue and gray, the whole landscape looked angry and battered into submission by the relentless coastal wind. Then he turned to the ocean. There was a haze covering the entire Pacific Ocean, as far as he could squint. “Twelve hours in the car and I can’t even see the fucking water.”

Hux claimed the room at the very top of the rental, it had a window overlooking the ocean and a stupid sign. “The Crow’s Nest.” He dragged his luggage up the stairs. The whole room smelled musty and forgotten. He sat down on the edge of the queen bed and flopped backwards, staring at the rafters. There was no need for a bed this big in such a small space— Hux scrunched his face up in disgust. Do not think about how many people have had sex in your bed, just don’t. That way lies madness, Hux thought. I am not going to look under the mattress pad.

“Boy!” His father hollered up the stairs, “Come help your mother with her junk!” Hux blew out the breath he was holding and descended the stairs.

It started to rain.

It continued to rain for three days. Drops splattered on the window panes and wind shrieked through the eaves. Hux made a bet with himself about how soon the roof would fly off. It was even money. He curled up on the bed, surrounded by fifteen decorative pillows that some poor soul had embroidered with seagulls and a two year old copy of People magazine. He’d read it cover to cover three times. Cellular service was complete shit and WiFi was apparently an alien concept in rustic vacation rentals. His father’s laptop had not survived the road trip and Hux’s had been commandeered, so no jerking off to his carefully curated archived amateur Alpha porn. The television downstairs had a dial to change the channels. All three channels.

“I’m going to start talking to myself. I am. I’m going to start talking to myself and go find a great white whale to have a battle to the death with. Honestly, it’s inevitable.” He could go talk to his parents. See what they were doing— Hux shook his head. Mother was sleeping, exhausted from her medication and Father was writing. He could write for days at a time, eating what was brought to him and pissing in a milk jug by his desk. He had a bestselling series, it was Regency romance of all things and the royalties were sending Hux to a very good school.

“Yet another thing for me to grateful for.” Hux told a decorative seahorse on the wall. “I have to get out of here. I have to.” He grabbed his coat and one of the guest umbrellas from the hallway. “I’m going out!” He called to his father who grunted in response and waved him off.

Hux made his way down the driveway towards the town center. He paused in front of the map of the town, drawn in a cartoon fashion that made the library and the police station look like equally jaunty places to visit. His sneakers squelched with wetness as he made his way to the coffee shop. It seemed like ages ago that he’d caught a glimpse of those glorious biceps. Everyone was wearing shapeless polar fleece and practical galoshes that he coveted with an practical intensity he’d never truly felt before.

He ordered a hot milky tea, something to chase the cold away from his bones and wrapped his fingers around it. “It's June,” he reminded himself and the counter girl smiled at him and then at his Omega Pride lapel pin. “It really is June, isn’t it?”

“It usually clears up by now. It’s not so bad. Just remember to take your vitamin D pills until the sun comes out again.” She pulled another shot of espresso after that bit of unsolicited advice. Hux pushed his sopping wet shock of red hair out of his face. He was not a natural sun worshipper, but the next time he saw the sun even he might offer up a few prayers of gratitude.

Hux wandered over to the small shelf of used books that lined the back wall. A hand lettered sign read, “Lending Library”. Out of habit, he looked for his father’s name on the spines of the books. Only one volume this time. The fourth. Savage Unbroken Hearts. Hux couldn’t read his father’s writing, it was far too intimate an act. It was worse than the time his father had walked in on Hux taking a selfie, wearing glitter and a rainbow thong. Hux cringed at the memory and selected a paperback space opera that boasted about galactic conquest. He sat down at a table and thumbed through the yellowed pulpy pages. The previous owner had scrawled his name in childish block letters on the interior cover. Ben.

The counter girl gave him a plastic bag for the book and Hux stepped out into the rain. It wasn’t going to defeat him. “You hear me?” Hux muttered to the weather as he made his way down the boardwalk. He rolled his eyes at the tiny salon and a candy store that was only open on the weekend. He paused in front of a photograph studio that specialized in pirate portraits. Skywalker Studios. Tourists grinned in tawdry costumes and posed in front of pirate flags. Rain dripped from the tip of Hux’s nose and he snorted in disdain. There was a 90% chance that his mother would drag them all in here for a souvenir portrait.

The beach access stairwell was just beyond the photography studio and Hux gripped the guardrail as he wrestled with both the slippery seagull shit smeared steps and the wind that threatened to steal his umbrella. The ocean was surging, the tide rolling in. Hux stared out at the dark, seething waters and felt begrudging respect for the power and intensity of the storm. Also for the warning signs posted all over the beach. Rolling logs that could kill you. Rip tides. Sneaker waves. Tsunamis. This was not the ocean that was in the brochures. Icy spray hit him in the face and he blinked saltwater from his lashes.

There was a man strolling along the pebbled beach. Long dark hair whipped around his head. What kind of Alpha bullshit was this? It was a stereotype of course, but the only person who would have the sheer ballsy stupid confidence to be walking on that beach would be an Alpha. A shameful thrill trilled up the back of Hux’s neck and he tasted the salt on his own lips.

The man reached the stairwell and as he ascended, Hux hid behind his Driftwood Cove umbrella. The man paid him no mind as he passed, Hux peeked out from beneath the umbrella shade. He swallowed hard as he caught the hint of a defined, youthful jawline, speckled with interesting moles that reminded Hux of constellations. The man unlocked the door to Skywalker Studios, stepped inside and flipped on the OPEN neon sign.

Oh god dammit. He wasn’t going to follow that weirdo guy, no matter how broad his shoulders were, no matter how bored Hux was, no matter— he stood on the steps of the photography studio and pushed open the door.

A bell jingled announcing Hux’s presence as he folded up his umbrella in the entry way. “Just a moment!” A deep voice called out from behind a curtain. “Be right out!’

Hux looked at the puddle of rain water accumulating around his feet and he flushed with embarrassment. He glanced to the side at a mirror for the tourists to check their costumes. His hair was plastered to his head, water dripped from his ears. No, no, no this was a mistake—

The broad-shouldered stranger walked out in a muscle baring tank top, drying his hair with a towel. The lack of fabric made one thing painfully clear to Hux’s libido. This was the owner of the Glorious Biceps. He wrapped the towel around his hair in a makeshift turban and looked at Hux. For a long moment, the Alpha’s plush pink mouth fell open as he took in the bedraggled, soaked ginger making a mess of his shop floor. If the Earth could open up and swallow me whole right now, that would be just dandy, Hux thought. He turned to leave.

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queerchoicesblog · 4 years ago

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After The Storm

Folks, here’s the second suggestion (thanks a mill @scottishqueer) for the wlw writing project. Inspo is fleaky lately but I want everyone who sent ideas to know that I’m working on them: I’m just a bit slow to write! But I hope you will enjoy this.

A little note about this series set in the Italian Renaissance. I chose a location very dear to me and - hopefully - a bit unusual: Ferrara, the city where my grandparents lived and my mom was born. I love that place and I’ll probably go back there in August: I still remember my grandpa taking me to the Castle (I have a picture showing little me proudly sitting on a pile of cannonballs in the internal stone garden on a sunny day), the Cathedral and the palaces around town. I incorporated them all in the story.

Ferrara was also one of the capitals of the Italian Renaissance, a Duchy ruled by the House of Este, a princely family, linked with several contemporary royal dynasties, including the British royal family. They were notorious patrons of the arts and innovators (through architeractural projects like the one called “Addizione” they were precursors of modern city planning); Duke Alfonso, who makes a cameo in the story and was the third husband of the infamous Lucrezia Borgia, was a patron of Ariosto, a famous poet to whom - ironically - my high school was dedicated. So yeah, I added a personal to this miniseries.

If you do happen to like this miniseries, please consider spreading the word!

Previous series: Ancient Greece

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The rain has finally subsided. When I wake up at the very first lights of dawn, only a faint rattling against the windows can be heard, a testament to the storm an unkind wind blew from where the sea lays and roars. I cherish the feeling, the newfound sweet peace after the howling winds of the night. My beautiful little boy is resting by my side. My poor Tommaso: my little angel has been unwell for days, I have never seen him shed all those tears since the day he was born. He cried and cried until his screams of fear and pain were barely audible and none of us knew what to do. Even Riccardo, my ever-absent, ever-busy husband, worried and urged the presence of a physician with great haste, concern written all over his face. I've never seen him like that before. Tommaso is our only son, too beautiful and young to surrender to a hideous disease and leave this world. If I allow myself to dwell into these thoughts, oh that would be enough to kill me! Seeing my boy suffering was almost unbereable: his desperate cries pierced right through my heart as I held him close, impotent yet hopeful that my presence could provide him a little comfort. Mum is here, my love, fighting and suffering with you.

It's an indescribable joy and relief to wake up this morning and see him sleeping peacefully after the agony and the storm. Tommaso is afraid of thunders and dark skies, I hated the rainstorm for being so unmerciful and throwing new fears to my troubled little prince. I wish I could have blown it away like Aeolus but I do not detain such power over the natural elements.

I gently stroke his head, a feather touch: God forbid I wake him! I almost cry but I manage to refrain myself: my sobbing could disturb his heavenly slumber and I don't want him to see me crying. I'll greet him with a smile when his eyes open up again and nuzzle his belly before covering him with kisses from head to toe. Tommaso loves it and I'm sure Riccardo won't object for once, not after what we've been through. I really thought I would lose my angel.

Thankfully, Lady Death spared him or so it seems. When he wakes he looks back to his usual self, no sign of the cruel pain torturing him. He gets all happy and excited underneath my kisses and eats with a good appetite. He simply looks a bit more abashed and tired than usual but it's understandable. I'll follow the physician's advice and ask my maid to get eggs and cook one of those soups and creams I had too when I was recovering from giving birth. That will hopefully help.

Seeing him happy again makes me forget about the events and mundane meetings I have missed over the past few days since he got ill. I love attending them but it all became suddenly so meaningless when my son lost his light and health. I must remember to save a prayer and make an offering for his miraculous recovery. And I can get the report of the latest happenings at court from my dear friends. They sent notes inquiring about Tommaso and I am glad to let them know the fortunate turn of events.

They visit me the day after. I have many friends here but Maria and Virginia are special companions to me. Maria is the oldest of the group, she has two sons already in marital age, but she has been good to me since I first walked into the castle. She comes from one of the wealthiest noble families in town: she's an institution at court and it meant so much to me that she took me under her wing when I was the new girl here, the young bride of "the most skilled diplomat that has ever served the House of Este". She has her ideas and a temper, of course, we don't agree on everything but she's been a sort of mentor to me and I will always be grateful to her for that: all I know about properly living at court, well I owe it to her. Virginia is about my age, another "pupil" of Maria. I like her: she's a bit shier and meeker than our friend and she has a little boy too so I'm sure she fully understood my anguish.

Apparently, I didn't miss anything important as I guarded Tommaso with my life. Same old rivalries between dames, the yet unconfirmed gossips about the Duke marriage plans, how displeased the jealous favourite looked even if she denied her irritation. Good old court life. I comment that there is still so much going on in our fair Ferrara: the Addizione is proceeding and rumour has it, the palace the previous Duke commissioned for court entertainments, Palazzo Schifanoia, is being renewed and expanded. It goes without saying that it is bound to be a work of unprecedented beauty. I don't remember who was saying so but I know the Duke and his passion for the arts so I find it hard to doubt.

Virginia claps her hand and notes that actually yes, I missed something. Speaking of arts and artistic projects, do I remember when rumours of an external artist joining the enterprise spread? Well, it happened! Now, that I think about it, I remember...Riccardo mentioned it one night as we came back from a music gathering. Apparently, our most brilliant architect, Biagio Rossetti, the genius in charge of bringing the Duke's vision to life and into art, requested another artist to join his brigade. If I got it right, it should be a talented colleague from Florence, Sir Davide whatever...I forgot his surname. He served the House of Medici and excelled so brightly that our fair Biagio summoned him as his right hand. Allegedly, our architect - or , God forbid!, the Duke himself - is unsatisfied with how the projects are proceeding and firmly believes that a fresh set of eyes and hands will benefit the future glory of our Duchy.

"The new architect arrived - when was it? Oh yes, the day after you informed us that poor Tommaso was ill, you definitely missed" Virginia explains.

He looks nice: a handsome man, who knows how to behave himself at court, a true gentleman. I tease my friend asking if she has already put her eyes on him. Virginia blushes a little before protesting: of course not, she would never do anything like that, not to her Carlo, she's a married woman and loyal. Maria interrupts her.

"Oh stop it: as if that would be an impediment!"

"Well, ideally it is!"

"Yes, but only ideally, as you said" Maria laughs. "My young girl, you should know that everyone at court has affairs sooner or later. We'll get you a lover too one day"

"Maria, you're incorrigible!" Virginia giggles, pretending a shyness that is no longer there, replaced by a hint of mischief.

Maria just shrugs, picking up a cherry from the bowl my maid laid on the table.

"Just experienced. So believe me when I tell you we all need the thrill of a secret affair in our lives...otherwise what is left to us? We would die of boredom!"

"I cannot vouch for Maria's theory but you said it yourself, the Florentine architect is here now and he's a handsome man..." I add, winking, to join the conversation.

"You'll vouch for my theory too, dove. Give me time and I'll get yourself a lover too" Maria exclaims.

"...Before a fair lady of the court catches his eyes and bewitches his heart" I continue, addressing Virginia as I prevent Tommaso from climbing up the table on his hunt for cherries.

My friends exchange an amused look.

"Oh but he's married, Emilia!" Virginia explains. "He didn't travel alone, his wife followed him here too. We met them both"

Ah, that's unexpected! I have already pictured a handsome bachelor joining our court but that's good to hear. As much as I enjoy the company of my friends and the other dames, I have noticed though the years that new companions are a blessing. A little novelty, even if momentary at times, could have the same effect of fresh air on a hot summer day. Otherwise, we would die of boredom, as Maria said, referring to lovers. I wouldn't go that far but a new lady in town could be good news.

"Oh, nice! A potential new friend. We should invite her to join our next sewing meeting and get to know her. As well as the hottest gossips from Florence, that is! What do you think?" I smile.

Surprisingly, the expression on my friends' faces is unreadable. Did I say something wrong? Was I too straightforward? Oh gosh, I hope they didn't take my enthusiasm as personal displeasure of our sewing meetings or their company! I better get this right.

"So, how's the new lady?" I inquiry nonchalantly as I prove myself in the funniest faces I can master to make my child laugh.

I succeed: Tommaso claps his tiny hands and laughs until he's out of breath.

"Oh, don't even get me started with her!" Maria dismisses my question but I know her long enough to know she can't wait to tell me what she thinks and maybe more.

"Nothing much, she keeps to herself. Not quite the talker" Virginia shrugs.

"Ah, she's way more tolerable when she keeps her mouth shut anyway!" Maria intervenes again and I'm sure she's not done with just that.

"My my, it seems you took quite a dislike for her" I giggle, exchanging an amused look with Virginia.

"I couldn't help myself, my dear" Maria continues, fanning herself as if to cool down her mounting anger. "Another boorish yet arrogant Florentine"

"The Florentine are always so full of themselves" I concede, cradling my son in my arms.

"Then she must be the Queen of them all" Maria barks a throaty laughter. "She looks so...so high and almighty: 'oh no, I'm afraid we don't play this game in Florence', 'I don't know what it means, we don't have this word in Florence', 'Florence here and that'. Believe me, sweetheart, we were trying to be kind to her but she's impossible! She acts like royalty but she's the wife of an...architect"

She pronounces the last words with evident displease. I can't refrain laughter: she's always been such a snob! I comment that she certainly sounds like...something.

"Oh but you'll have the disgrace to meet her soon enough!" Maria exclaims. "You know that our Duke is so fond of artists, he will certainly invite them again at the next dinners and balls"

"Speaking of the ball" Virginia intervenes to prevent her from keeping ranting. "What will you wear at the Masquerade Ball next month? I ordered a most extravagant costume yesterday, I can't wait to show you-"

We spend the rest of the afternoon discussing the upcoming events at court and the latest trends, gossiping about what we suspect the other dames will wear.

Ah, I missed my friends and our conversations...

#wlw writing #wlw writing project #original work #wlw miniseries #lgbtqa+#italian renaissance

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