#but also baby arnas because look at that baby face

[synintheraven]

Stumbled upon this um lovely picture earlier and as I downloaded it, thought it would be nice to remember the good old sharing is caring, right? 👀

[fairyfandommother]

‘Young Royals’ Season 2: An unhelpful guide to the first look at the upcoming season.

Image 1: Crown Prince Wilhelm at home, eating with his parents: Her Majesty, Queen Kristina of Sweden and The Prince Consort, Ludvig

It’s so sad that there are only placements for the three of them. It’s like even Erik’s ghost is gone now. Also very telling how Kristina and Ludvig are all smiles and Wilhelm looks rather uninterested and resigned. This is probably going to be the start of the season before Wille goes off to Hillerska for the new semester. A goodbye dinner even, given the fanfare (correct me if I’m wrong but the ‘family dinner’ we saw in Season 1 looked a lot less formal).

Image 2: Crown Prince Wilhelm shares a glance with his ex-lover, Simon Eriksson (guys they never even explicitly said they were together so they weren’t even boyfriends idt 😭)

This is their official return to Hillerska, I think. The students (maybe it’s the choir) are all lined up for a welcome ritual for the Crown Prince’s arrival. Simon is gonna try his best to avoid this boy. I just know it. And Wilhelm is gonna be devastated. He’s probably gonna be like “Simon” all happy and breathless and he’s gonna be met with a “Your Highness”. WRING ME AND HANG ME OUT TO DRY I’M GOING INSANE

Image 3: Crown Prince Wilhelm frowning in focus (is that Henry right there?? I spy a redhead) while August, The Asshole of Arnås smiles in the blurred foreground.

This image does not sit right with me. What the fuck are you smiling about you weasel? I can’t believe Lisa casted Malte as this dickhead because his cute baby face is working so hard to curb my enthusiasm at the prospect of him getting beat up. It’s also quite strange that he seems to be the only one smiling in this frame?? Like literally everybody else is just… not paying attention or mad as fuck.

Fuck you, August.

Images 4 and 5: (ltr) Madison McCoy, Felice Ehrenchrona, Sara Eriksson, Stella, and Frederika. Sara Eriksson and August, The Asshole of Arnas.

First of all, Nikita with her natural hair!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let’s go!!!!! Represent for the curly girls!!! This is such a huge deal for me as a black female fan of the show and I’m sure for Felice as a character. It represents her breaking out of that mold her mother put her in before to conform to conventional beauty standards. Love that she’s embracing her hair. Anywho… I put these images in a cluster because to me it seems like it happens either in the same scene or set around the same time (given Sara’s wardrobe). It’s probably the same first day as they’re all still in uniform. I doubt Felice would take very kindly to Sara and August conversing given what she knows but she also doesn’t know that Sara knows, Sara and August, The Asshole, don’t know that Felice knows. So, I’m thinking Sara and August are speaking away from the group (perhaps after they’ve left or walked off). August, The Asshole, looks teed off so I’m assuming this is a confrontation of sorts where he accuses Sara of spilling the beans to Wille and she has to convince him that she didn’t. Wouldn’t it be just great if Felice saw this little exchange and confronted Sara about it and Sara confesses what happened to Felice?? Wouldn’t y’al just love to see Sara face some consequences?? 🤭

Fuck both Sara and August tbh

Image 6: Felice Ehrencrona and Crown Prince Wilhelm share a quiet moment.

Wille looks so sad. Simon probably rejected him (as he should, let’s get one thing straight 😭), and Felice being the Best Friend Ever is rightfully trying to cheer Wille up. Wille had to make a lot of hard decisions last season, and those decisions hurt a lot of people, himself included. I hate what he did but it’s a messy situation all around and there’s really not much anyone can do about it. I believe in Wilmon Supremacy. Also, can I say that I love their friendship? I’m so happy that Felice, The Popular Rich Girl, is just.. so nice?? All hail.

Images 7 and 8: Simon Eriksson with best friends Ayub and Rosh + Crown Prince Wilhelm pining after Simon Eriksson in a classroom full of people.

I have TWO (2) theories about this set of photos. Given Simon’s wardrobe, I think it’s safe to say these scenes are probably close together (Omar was right, what is this kid wearing lmaooo). This is obviously during the week back (or even further in the semester) since the kids are back to regular clothing. My theories are more so with the order of these scenes.

Theory 1: Rosh and Ayub talk to Simon prior to the classroom scene where he tells them he’s gonna ignore Wille and they either stick by his decision or try to dig deeper into why he’s making said decision before he actually goes and ignores Wille in class ORRRRRRR

Theory 2: Simon ignores Wille in class and then tells Rosh and Ayub about it and they talk. I’m more inclined to believe this one because it makes more sense for him to meet up with his friends after school than it does for him to meet them before (assuming this is all the same day since he’s wearing the same clothes).

Let me also just take a moment to comment on Wilhelm’s very in-your-face staring here… like… he’s so obvious about it? And like, good for him?? Everyone else seems to be looking down at their books so maybe it’s a read aloud or a follow along but Wille’s not even trying to look like he’s paying attention. Also, how much do you wanna bet he kicked someone out of their seat to be able to sit with Simon? How many eyebrows do you think that raised? You go, Wille. Fight for your man.

Image 9: Crown Prince Wilhelm and Simon Eriksson, with their team, during rowing team training (?)

Looooot of assumptions here but they’re all in uniform and we know they’re on the team so let’s assume this is canon.

There’s so much going on here. Simon is like… all up in Wille’s space. One hand around his waist (check the mirror) and another on his side. Obviously this is a team building exercise and it could mean absolutely nothing but the significance of Simon being the one to have direct physical contact with Wille is pretty telling iykwim. This picture also seems kind of strange to me as I don’t think it belongs to the rest of the cluster which I’m guessing is the first, or even second, episode of the new season. This picture is singular in arrangement. There’s no partner. I’m guessing it happens a little later on (3 or 4 maybe) and after Wilmon have had some sort of development. A talk maybe? Cleared the air at least. Established some necessary boundaries.

Also notice who is very strategically missing from this shot? The captain of the team. I hope he got expelled. 🫶🏽🫦

Anyways, this makes zero sense but it’s just the initial vibe that I’m getting from this set of photos. I’M SO EXCITED FOR WHAT’S TO COME!! Also, @ that one Netflix France employee that leaked the season was coming out in November, I hope you don’t get fired 😭😭

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - May 2

I know I say every week that I read a lot this week but I have been indulging in my favorite coping technique and so this list is ridiculously long. Twitter encouraged me. Blame them. 

**Indicates my recent favs 

~*~ 

On the inherent homoeroticism of cake decoration by welcoming_disaster (616/8K)

“She’s matchmaking, Barton,” Carol sighed.

“We,” Thor corrected, thumping himself hard in the chest, “art matchmaking.”

“Who, Cap n’ Tony?” Clint asked, his mouth full.

“Cap and Tony,” Janet confirmed, cutting herself a thin slice of egg and gently depositing it on her whole grain avocado toast, “it’s getting ridiculous.”

“Wait, I thought they were—“ Clint frowned, glancing around the room as though to confirm. Nothing but confused faces met his questioning gaze. “Huh. I really thought they were fucking.”

“And there is the crux of the issue,” Jess licked a bit of spaghetti sauce off her lip.

“Aye,” agreed Thor, “there’s rub.”

-----------

The team tries to set up Steve and Tony. Things don't go as planned.

Baby lovers like you and me (never say die) by FestiveFerret (Old Guard AU/7.5K)

The Avengers. They'd found him frozen in the ice, told him he was immortal, of all things. And with the way he'd lived through seventy years deep in the Atlantic, he found himself inclined to believe them. They'd also been very… convincing.

Without question, they integrated him into their unit - The Avengers, a secret team of unkillables seeking wrongs around the world and making them right, supported and housed by an enigmatic billionaire named Tony Stark. Their immortality, it seemed, was a secret to everyone but him.

Ready, set, bake by ChocolateCapCookie (Great British Bake Off/11k) 

The Avengers are on a nationally televised baking competition, but nobody seems to have warned the producers that the Avengers, while they save the world everyday and put their loves at risk doing so, are a) insanely competitive, and b) absolutely terrible bakers. Steve Rogers, especially, has a competitive streak a mile wide, and he's determined to win this competition, but it's not easy when his only real opponent is also the man he's been in love with for years.

***To make flowers grow (in this barren heart) by SoldiersShield, KakushiMiko (Hanahaki AU/16K) 

“You hide yourself away in your technology, but you are just as human as the rest of them. Your heart betrays your desire to possess.” Her gaze falls to the arc reactor, and Tony's blood runs cold in his veins.

“The Earth will reclaim what we have lost,” she says, dragging a hand over the chestplate of the armor. “It is you, and your kind-- your greed that pulls life from the soil as if it were nothing. You will reap what you have sown, Stark. The avarice in your heart will strangle the very life out of you.” Arna meets his eyes once more, a serene smile on her face as she leans forward.

“I hope he is worth dying for,” she murmurs, before digging her hand into his ribcage.

(Tony Stark falls in love with Steve Rogers. A rogue enchantress ensures he pays for it.)

Shelter from the storm by silkspectred (KidFic/5k) 

Tony adopts a baby. Guess who's Majorly Fucked Up™ about it.

Keep on beating by itsallAvengers (Domestic Fluff/6K) 

There were an awful lot of things Steve loved about Tony. But one thing in particular Steve could never get enough of was his heartbeat.

The good or bad thing by petreparkour (Multiverse/10k) 

 “It’s the metal suit,” Thor informed Steve, his normally-booming voice tinny over the SHIELD comms. “What did Stark call it—Iron Man?”

“But he’s down here,” Steve protested as the Hulk roared in Stark’s face, startling him into waking with a shout. “How could—”

“It’s damaged,” Thor reported. “But it looks different. More advanced. And he—ah. He’s carrying you, Captain.”

“Please tell me nobody kissed me,” Stark breathed out, and then Stark’s voice suddenly came over the comms, but the man lying next to him hadn’t moved.

“Guys, come on, you’re killing me here. What is it, 2012? God, I hate time travel. First, I'm fighting Thanos. Now, I have to deal with my past self and Thor's bad haircut? Oh my God, Cap, yes I hacked their comms, they’re my comms.”

Steve nearly opened his mouth to protest that he hadn’t said anything when he realized that this replica of Tony Stark wasn’t speaking to him.

***The tipping point by nightwalker (Domestic Fluff/7K) 

Tony has a few quirks. Steve's still trying to figure them all out.

We two, how long we were fool’d by glassessay (Soulmate AU/9K) 

Steve Rogers comes into the world as unblemished as his mother. When Anthony Stark is born, his soulmark is an obvious pattern of ink across his tiny chest.

It only takes a century, two names, and a shared love of Walt Whitman for them to find each other.

The tape in the cave by betheflame (Canon Divergent/5K) 

Steve had no idea what was happening.

“You think I didn’t know that?”

Tony was staring Zemo down as though the Sokovian was actual vermin - which, Steve reflected, he kind of was.

“You think that I,” Tony continued, not hiding the sneer in his voice, “Anthony Stark, who has more powerful technology in my literal fingers than most nations have, that I wouldn’t know everything possible about how my parents died? That I wouldn’t know it wasn’t an accident, that your silly little HYDRA Nazi knock-off pals are the ones who murdered them? Please, you are pathetic.”

Happy ending by Robin_tCJ (No-Powers AU/28K) 

 Steve is a mobile massage therapist, and Tony is a stressed billionaire. What could go wrong?

With a decent happiness by torigates (Teacher AU/16K) 

Tony Stark is Iron Man. Steve Rogers isn't, and never was Captain America.

Or, the one where everything is the same except Steve is a kindergarten teacher.

Nothing left but scars by SailorChibi (MCU/6.7K) - Reread

Steve wakes up to the fact that no one ever compliments or even says thank you to Tony, and that he has fallen into the same trap of painting Tony with a specific paintbrush.

This is how he showers a very confused Tony with praise to make up for it.

Our hearts should remember and follow by frostfall (MCU/5K) 

Steve hums. “I didn’t know you could play. Or sing. Don’t think I’ve heard anyone mention it before.”

Tony shrugs. “It’s one of the few things, skills, I don’t flaunt. Not something people are interested in, anyway. Not gonna sway any board members by playing fucking Für Elise for them. Sides’, there’s a high chance I wouldn’t even play. Well, maybe if you get me drunk enough and near an instrument. Then, I might reconsider.”

(After a dream leaves Tony rattled, he turns to the piano as a way to distract himself.)

Finally, you and me by pensversusswords (Multiverse/10K) 

Because in every layer of time, in every conceivable dimension, he was always meant to love Steve.

By some miracle, Steve was meant to love him back.

***Full disclosure not required (but appreciated) by Potrix (Identity Porn/16k) 

The one where Steve knows more than he lets on, Tony knows less than he pretends, Clint has a big mouth, Bucky is a little shit, and everyone learns why keeping secrets never ends well.

Almost never, anyway.

Heartlines by nanasekei (MCU/7.9K) 

“Let me,” Tony repeats. He regrets it deeply, so much, he wants to stick the words back into his mouth again, and it must show, in the way his voice wavers. He feels exposed, all of a sudden, as if he’s asking something bigger than what he can actually say. Let me touch you, let me take care of you. “Just… Let me do it.”

i found a way to let you in, but i never really had a doubt (marriage series) by quidhitch (Marriage Series/16k) 

Tony Stark doesn’t believe in marriage. It’s nobody’s fault. —Well, it’s Howard's fault, probably, but Tony doesn’t like to think about that for too long, finds that it dredges up all sorts of issues he’d rather keep buried under a mountain of strategically employed sarcasm, humorous self-deprecation, and the occasionally effective substance abuse.

***Hide your love away by sineala (Soulmate/33K) - Reread

Tony has suspected for a long time that the soulmark on his chest matches Steve's -- but he's never told Steve about it. And then it's too late to tell Steve anything at all ever again. In the wake of Steve's death, the Skrull invasion, and Norman Osborn's rise to power, the identity of his soulmate is just one of the many things Tony cuts out of his memory forever.

When Tony returns to consciousness, he's forced to deal with the aftermath of a war he no longer remembers fighting, not to mention a Steve Rogers who can barely stand to be in the same room with him. Surely the last thing Tony could ever need in his life is more amnesia. But that's what he gets. And Tony's new missing memory just might be the key to finding out the truth of his soulmark... as well as his chance to make things right once and for all.

Break the chain (can’t live in circles again) by orphan_account (FWB/19K) 

There had been seven amazing weeks of dating Steve Rogers before Tony realised that they weren’t dating at all. And then it was a scramble to adjust to the situation as it had always been: being Steve’s friend-with-benefits.

And if Steve seemed a little confused and bewildered by the way Tony was acting, well. Tony was probably just misreading that, too.

Five times steve and tony (tried to) bail each other out of jail by Teyke (MCU/6k) 

Twice before Civil War, twice after, and once during. For very loose definitions of both 'bail' and 'jail'.

Cracked hearts under iron ribs by XtaticPearl (Established Relationship/14k)

Rhodey is away for almost six months now and comes to meet Tony after the mission. He doesn't understand the domesticity of the whole Tower and unknowingly sets off a whole truck of insecurities which make Tony crawl back into being a Stark instead of just Tony. The team is not at all happy and Rhodey joins them in trying to figure out a way to help their resident genius feel better in his skin.

The single biggest problem with communication by BlossomsintheMist (616/108K)

In the wake of Steve's return from the dead and the end of Norman Osborn's reign of terror, the superhero community is recovering--Steve has taken on a new role and Tony is trying to put his life back together. Things are still awkward between them, but they're determined to put things to rights. But when a discussion about their feelings leads to further misunderstandings, they discover that might be more difficult than either of them realized. Set in the early Heroic Age after the end of Dark Reign, this is a get-together story about crossed wires--and second chances.

What are friends for? by bobertsmallismydad (MCU /2.8K) 

In which Steve is targeted by a virus. Will the Avengers be able to save him in time?

Starving by festiveferret (Vampire AU/2K) 

Steve woke up starving.

***Everybody wonders (What it would be like to love you) by SoldiersShield (MCU/3K) 

“...Is that what this is about?” He asks slowly. Steve blanches.

“Oh my god. It is.” Tony has no right looking as giddy as he does. “Steven Grant Rogers, are you jealous?”

--

Or: Steve and Tony have been dancing around each other for a while now, and Steve's rather content with it. Attending a gala together just might change that.

Re(A)d all over by brandnewfashion, MusicalLuna (Drunk Flirting/3k) 

Contrary to popular belief, Tony Stark can blush.

It just takes Steve getting drunk on some magical Asgardian mead for it to finally happen.

***The Do-over Proposal by nightwalker (Established Relationship/1.2k) 

Steve wants to go on a journey, Tony doesn't think it's a good time, and Bucky needs to beat some sense into both these idiots.

A Winter’s Ball by alliejowrites (Victorian AU/3.8K) 

Steve moves to London in search of a patron, so that he can finally devote himself to painting. He is not expecting everything he finds upon meeting Lord Stark. A fluffy little Victorian AU. One-shot.

What’s a fanfic by starksnack (AvAc/1K) 

Kamala introduces Tony and Steve to the world of fanfiction. There is a surprising amount of content about them being gay.

[dear-evanrosier]

This is written for James' birthday. I'm mad he's not alive.

This is also a modern AU with no Voldy 

Translations are at the bottom :)

“Can you tell me why the bloody fuck we decided to go to a theme park in November?”

“James, mate, you’re scaring the children.” Sirius scolded, and James huffed in response. 

"I can see my bloody breath! And you aren’t cold cause you’ve got your bloody boyfriend to warm you up. And Pete couldn’t come, no matter how much he wanted and unless your brother-” 

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Potter.” Regulus bit, and James made a disgruntled noise when Remus laughed. 

“Oh, don’t you even start, Remus. Sirius is practically drowning in your jacket. No wonder neither of you wankers are complaining!”

“Language!” 

The new, higher voice came from behind them in the line, and they turned to see a middle-aged woman covering the ears of a little boy, no older than ten, with a mix of shock and amusement on his face.

“Is there a problem, ma’am?” James asked politely, and the woman huffed. 

“Yes. I don’t want you talking that way in front of my son.” 

“I’m not allowed to say wanker?” 

“Hey! What did I just say? I am behind you, and I want you to stop speaking in those disgusting words.” 

 James was confused for a second before his face was plastered in a shit-eating grin. 

“Je parle une langue. Français, pour être exact.” 

“What? Speak english,we’re in America.” The women snapped, and Sirius snickered from behind James while Remus groaned, and Regulus looked torn between bewilderment and amusement. 

“Quid de latine? Nec?”

The woman was obviously growing frustrated, and James took full advantage of it. 

“ A yw'r Gymraeg yn well? Dyma fy hoff un. Ddim mor rhamantus â Ffrangeg, chi'n gweld, ond gan fy mod i'n eithaf unig ac nad yw'r person rydw i mewn cariad ag ef yn gallu siarad Cymraeg, rydw i'n mynd i'w siarad. Y dyn y tu ôl i mi, rydych chi'n ei weld, y gwallt brown, mae'n fy neall i, wel efallai ddim bellach, mae wedi bod yn amser ers iddo ei siarad, ond dydy'r ddau arall ddim. Rydw i mewn gwirionedd mewn cariad â brawd ei gariad. Ie, y bachgen arall. Y gwallt du byr. Mae'n hollol anhygoel. Mae'n edrych fel ei fod wedi curo'ch asyn, ond ni fydd - wel, efallai'ch un chi. Ond mae mor felys a charedig ac mae fy Nuw ei wên yr un mor ffycin hardd mae'n gwneud fy niwrnod cyfan. A phan mae'n chwerthin, sy'n achlysur prin, mae hi mor goddamn hyfryd sut na allech chi garu'r bachgen hwn. Nid eich bod chi'n gwybod beth rydw i'n ei ddweud. Ac rydw i'n rantio yn Gymraeg i ddynes ar hap sy'n wallgof arna i. Rhyfeddol.”

Someone further back in the line yelled “Mynnwch y bachgen!” but James didn’t pay it much mind, instead staring the woman who was almost red in the face with her anger. 

“Well,if that’s all.” James gave a polite smile and turned back to his friends. "Happy birthday, Sirius." 

Sirius let out a bark of laughter and pushed closer into Remus, pulling the jacket tighter around them. Regulus looked at James with amusement and confusion. 

“What?” 

“You speak Welsh? And French and Latin?” Regulus asked, and James nodded.

“I mean, obviously. What else could I have been speaking?” 

Regulus rolled his eyes and turned back around to the front of the line, pointing forward. “We aren’t too far from the front. Maybe five minutes.” 

After they had ridden the roller coaster (James screamed, Regulus laughed at him) they decided to get some food before getting on another ride, the ride being a carousel. 

“Why a carousel? Sirius, you’re turning twenty-two, not two.” Regulus reasoned, though they were already in line and it didn’t do much. 

“Because I can. Besides, I’m not acting like I’m two. ” 

“Yeah? Well look at James! He’s acting like he’s five!” 

  

“Hey!” 

“Oh, you are!” 

“It’s cold, okay! I’m trying to stay warm!” 

“You’re a bloody wizard!” Regulus whisper-shouted, careful to not be overheard. “Use a damn heating charm!” 

“Remus took my wand!” James whispered back, and Remus smiled from in front of them.

“If you say so.” 

James huffed and continued the small dance he was doing, now bobbing his head back and forth in front of Regulus’ face to annoy him. Regulus rolled his eyes and turned him around, shoving him forward in line. James stumbled, but regained his balance and turned around again, repeating his dance and head motions before Regulus turned and pushed him forward again. 

This continued a few more times until Regulus grew tired of it, gripping James’ shoulders to get him to stop. 

“Quit it, Potter.” 

“Make me, Black.”

James started bobbing his head again, and then Regulus’ hands weren’t on his shoulders.

They were on his hips, bringing James closer until Regulus was kissing him, and James was kissing back, Regulus’ fingers digging into James’ waist, reminding him that he was awake. There was grumbling somewhere behind them, but James couldn’t care less, now that he was finally kissing Regulus, and Regulus was kissing him back, after what was almost seven years of pining and secret plans that never worked. 

James brought his hands up to Regulus’ face, cradling his cheeks and angling his head as he deepened the kiss.

“Oi!” Sirius shouted from somewhere, though it was hard for James to focus on anything except for Regulus surrounding him and filling every one of his senses.

 The only thing he felt was the scratchy stubble on Regulus' face, and Regulus' hands holding on to his hips. The only thing he could taste was the mango chapstick Regulus used religiously. The only thing he could smell was Regulus' cologne, which smelt like whiskey and old books, something that reminded him of Hogwarts. The only thing he heard was Regulus' breathing, and the almost non existent moan that came when James opened his mouth to willingly let Regulus in.

"Stop snogging my brother and get on the ride." Sirius' voice came, and James broke their kiss, still holding Regulus' face, to face Sirius. 

"No." 

And he turned back around, reconnecting his and Regulus' lips.

"Fine then. Come on, Moony. Leave Prongs to defile my baby brother."

Translations (if i messed up on any of these, I apolgize.)

"Je parle une langue. Français, pour être exact.”----- "I am speaking a language. French, to be exact."

“Quid de latine? Nec?”------- “What about Latin? No?” 

“A yw'r Gymraeg yn well? Dyma fy hoff un. Ddim mor rhamantus â Ffrangeg, chi'n gweld, ond gan fy mod i'n eithaf unig ac nad yw'r person rydw i mewn cariad ag ef yn gallu siarad Cymraeg, rydw i'n mynd i'w siarad. Y dyn y tu ôl i mi, rydych chi'n ei weld, y gwallt brown, mae'n fy neall i, wel efallai ddim bellach, mae wedi bod yn amser ers iddo ei siarad, ond dydy'r ddau arall ddim. Rydw i mewn gwirionedd mewn cariad â brawd ei gariad. Ie, y bachgen arall. Y gwallt du byr. Mae'n hollol anhygoel. Mae'n edrych fel ei fod wedi curo'ch asyn, ond ni fydd - wel, efallai'ch un chi. Ond mae mor felys a charedig ac mae fy Nuw ei wên yr un mor ffycin hardd mae'n gwneud fy niwrnod cyfan. A phan mae'n chwerthin, sy'n achlysur prin, mae hi mor goddamn hyfryd sut na allech chi garu'r bachgen hwn. Nid eich bod chi'n gwybod beth rydw i'n ei ddweud. Ac rydw i'n rantio yn Gymraeg i ddynes ar hap sy'n wallgof arna i. Rhyfeddol.” ------------------------------------- Is welsh any better? It's my favorite. Not as romantic as French, you see, but since I'm quite lonely and the person I'm in love with can't speak Welsh, I'm going to speak it. The man behind me, you see him, the brown hair, he understands me, well maybe not anymore, it's been a while since he spoke it, but the other two don't. I'm actually in love with his boyfriend's brother. Yeah, the other boy. The short black hair. He's absolutely amazing. He looks like he'd beat your ass, but he won't - well, maybe yours. But he's so sweet and kind and my god his smile is just so fucking beautiful it just makes my entire day. And when he laughs, which is a rare occasion, it's just so goddamn gorgeous how could you not love this boy. Not that you know what I'm saying. And I'm ranting in Welsh to a random lady who's mad at me. Wonderful.

Mynnwch y bachgen!-----Get the boy!

[mvnvgedmischief]

home is where the heart is; remus takes sirius to wales as a suprise, to meet his parents. hope imparts some motherly wisdom. it’s cute, and remus is welsh. i swear

2.2k words. sorry about any bad welsh, I do not speak the language.

Sirius propped his feet on the dash, heavy boots making a loud thump against the dashboard. He looked over at Remus, silver eyes lit up with joy as his hair whipped around in the airflow from the open window. His eyes scanned over the expression on Remus’s face, trying to read what was going on. He knew Remus wanted to surprise him, and he wasn’t against suprises. But that didn’t mean he liked not knowing. Not when he was could see Remus was excited, and he just wanted to share in that joy. “Moony–“ He whinged, his grey eyes blown wide as he notices the way the sun illuminates Remus’s hair and his face, like a halo. “Where’re you taking me?” He knows his voice comes out as a smooth whine, and he could only hope that Remus found it endearing. 

“You’ll figure it out, Pads. Promise.” 

“Ugh” He groans, throwing himself back on the passenger seat. “Fine Moony, don’t tell me. But then I’m choosing the next cassette!” 

“No, you’re not. I’m driving, I pick the music!” 

“Well then tell me, Moonshine!” 

“Pads, I promise you, I’m not taking you anywhere you won’t want to be.” I hope lingers on the tip of his tongue, but remains unsaid. He thinks– hell– he hopes that Sirius won’t be upset that he hasn’t driven him to Paris, or somewhere equally exciting. 

“Please Moonbeam! Moon of my life! Please just tell me where we’re going!” 

“Iesu mawr! Cau'r ffyc i fyny” dear god, shut the fuck up. Remus says it with that sweet, Welsh lilt to his voice that he always has, and the reverence that he always has when he’s talking to his best mate. 

He knew that Sirius was starting to go a bit nutty in the Potter house. It was lovely, having Euphemia and Fleamont around all the time, and it was great to spend all of his time with James. He knew Sirius would never complain. But there were parts of Sirius that were quieter, parts that he knew he hid from James. Things that came from the silencing charms he put on his bed every night, or the way he didn’t like to talk in the morning, because his throat felt too raw. It was so fantastic that the Potters had taken him in, but Remus and James both knew that some time away would do him some good. That, combined with the fact that James, Euphemia, and Fleamont were off to a cousin’s wedding this week, one that Sirius didn’t know, gave Remus the perfect opportunity to take his best mate up to meet his parents. His parents, who he hoped wouldn’t embarrass him with baby pictures and talking about the letters Remus wrote about the way Sirius’s eyes lit up in the moonlight, or the way his laugh could make Remus’s whole day. 

“Remus, are you taking me to Wales?” Sirius asked, his voice like a quiet scale on a piano. Remus wondered if it was soft around the edges because he wanted to go or because he didn’t, but at this point, he didn’t have the option to turn back around. Not tonight, at least. The original plan had been for Sirius and Trixie, the Potter House Elf to spend the week at their estate, but Remus had immediately told James in his last letter that it was a dumb idea. There was no way when they came home, that Sirius would not regress into the shell of a person that he had been just a few short months ago. If he were left to his own devices, Sirius would lose his mind. 

Remus tried to suppress the smile on his face, or the way a blush heated up his cheeks, but it didn’t work. Instead, Remus had a small smile on his face and a beet red neck, but Sirius could see the joy written all over him. Sirius’s shoulders; however, tensed incredibly swiftly. When Remus said they were going on an adventure for a few days, Sirius had mentally prepared himself for lying in bed, intertwined with Remus, all soft touches and softer smiles, the way they had had for the majority of sixth year. He steeled himself to the possibility of finally telling Remus he liked him, that he wanted those touches to be more than when his mind was convinced he was trapped in the walls of Grimmauld place, or when Remus forgot that the person came before the wolf.  But all of those thoughts were wiped clean from his mind, when the beaten up old care pulled into the gravel path off the main road, and pulled up in front of a small cottage. 

“Rem, this isn’t–“ Sirius started, his eyes wide and his smile large with admiration.

“I told you that you’d figure it out you bloody drewgi.” smelly dog. 

“Nobody’s met your parents, Rem! Are you sure!” 

“We’re already here, Pads, can’t exactly back out now can I.” 

Remus pulled a key from his keyring, something that still amazed Sirius to no end. Why, when he had a wand, did he need a keyring. Nonetheless, Sirius was thankful for it. Thankful, because he got to watch Remus’s hands, his beautiful, confident fingers, make quick work of unlocking the door. 

“Mam! Tad! Rydw i adref!” Mom! Dad! I’m home! 

A disheveled looking man with the same fluffy tawny hair made his way down the stairs, and Sirius wondered if this was what coming home would feel like for him someday. If someday that smile that Moony wore would be the same smile that he wore when he walked into the Potter manor. But this was no Manor. Sirius scanned the room and noticed it immediately. It was the same small cottage on the outside as it was on the inside, no bells, whistles, or magic to make it something new. It was a cottage, that smelled much more strongly of that same something that Sirius could smell on Remus’s jumpers but never place. 

“Ah! Young Master Black! Welcome! I’m Lyall Lupin, Remus’s dad.” 

“Mae'n gwybod pwy ydych chi, Tad.” He knows who you are, Dad. Remus mumbled beside him, clearly exasperated. Sirius nodded, reaching out his hand to shake Lyall’s. Lyall’s hands, just like Remus’s, were confident, and Lyall wore that same tired expression that Moony always had. Sirius wondered if it ran in the family, or if something else was going on. 

“Mae eich mam eisiau eich gweld chi yn ei hystafell. Bydd hi'n falch iawn o gwrdd â'ch Sirius.” Your mother wants to speak to you in her room. She’ll be delighted to meet your Sirius. 

“Rydych chi'n codi cywilydd arna i.” You’re embarrassing me! 

“Ewch ymlaen wedyn! Fe af ag ef i'ch ystafell a phan fyddwch wedi siarad, gallwch eu cyflwyno” Go on then! I'll take him to your room and when you're done talking, you can introduce them. 

Silently, Sirius hoped he wouldn’t be left alone, but when Remus started to walk away, not looking back at Sirius to gesture for him to follow, he knew he had no choice. 

Remus walks up to his mam’s room with a bit of pep in his step. Hope Lupin, his favorite person in the entire world. He was so thankful for the summer holidays, because it allowed him just a bit more time. A bit more time to sit beside her and talk about her romantic theories of the world, about how beautiful everything is. A bit more time, to talk to his mam about school, about books he’s read, about anything because he knew just as well as Lyall did, that the time was dwindling to a close. When he finally arrives at her room, just a week after he had been here last (James had demanded his attention, if he was coming all the way out to the east side of England, for at least a week) and is startled by the sight of her. He felt like she looked so much sicker, even though it had only been seven days. 

“Remus, fy nghariad. Croeso adref.” Remus, my love. Welcome home. She smiles at him, and it’s almost enough to make him forget the breathing apparatus in her nose. Almost. 

“Mam, beth ddigwyddodd? Sut wnaethoch chi - rydych chi wedi bod yn sâl.” Mam, what happened? How did you– you’ve been sick.

“Fy machegan” She tuts, shaking her head with the saddest, most knowing look he’s ever seen. “Mae popeth sydd gyda ni yn cael ei fenthyg, cariad. Mae'n mynd i fod yn iawn. Rwy'n addo.” Everything we have is borrowed, love. It’s going to be okay. I promise. (This is a Welsh Proverb).  He doesn’t want to cry. Not when Sirius is in the next room over, ready to meet his mother for the first time. But he also wants to make sure she’s alright. 

“Felly ydy e yma? Rydw i eisiau cwrdd â'r bachgen hwn rydych chi wedi dweud cymaint wrtha i amdano! ” So is he here? I want to meet this boy you’ve told me so much about!”

“Mam!” He whines, a smile breaking out on his face. The smile Hope returns to him is identical, and had Sirius been in the room, he’s sure that the boy would have commented on how alike they truly look. 

“Rwy'n addo dim ond codi cywilydd arnoch chi yn Gymraeg, Remus. Nawr dywedwch wrthyf, a ydych wedi dweud wrtho eto?” I promise to only embarrass you in Welsh, Remus. Now tell me, have you told him yet?

“Dim mam, nid wyf wedi dweud wrth fy ffrind gorau fod gen i wasgfa arno.”  No mam, I have not told my best mate that I have a crush on him.

“Why on Earth not, Remus! If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times. You never know until you try.” 

“I know Mam. I promise I’ll tell him eventually.” 

“Promise you’ll tell him while you two are here. I want to know how he reacts.” 

Remus let’s out that same tired sigh he always has, and it’s one he’s also inherited from Hope Lupin. Remus calls Sirius towards the room, smiling at his mom as best as he can even though his eyes have welled with tears. He knows why she wants him to speak to Sirius about his feelings. He knows it’s because she wants to still be around when her son finds his first love. And despite how confident Remus is in his own feelings about Sirius, he can’t tell her whether or not they’ve been reciprocated because he doesn’t know. His mum just wants to make sure that if she can see her son’s first relationship, she does. 

“Sirius, this is my mam. Mam, this is Sirius.” He introduces, and Sirius is struck by her. Sure, she’s propped up in a bed, nose occupied by a see-through bit of tubing and features gaunt. But she looks so like Remus, down to the stars in their eyes, that her illness is one of the last things he truly notices about her. He’s so struck, he does the only thing he can do, the thing he’s been trained all his life to do. He steps forward, and bows. 

“Sirius!” Remus was startled by the reaction, and in response he provides a gentle elbow to the ribs. “My mam’s a muggle. You don’t need to bother with all that trite.” 

“Mae'n well gen i, fy machgen. Gadewch iddo chwysu ychydig.” I rather like it, my boy. Let him sweat a bit.

“Mam–“ 

“Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Lupin. Remus has told us, the other boys and I that is, a lot about you.” Remus is shocked because Sirius sounds so nervous. Maybe his mother was right, maybe Sirius was sweating a bit. Either way, he could not be more thrilled with the way this was going. 

The boys enjoyed their time in Wales, and on the final day, Remus resolved to do what he had promised his mom he would. He resolved to tell Sirius how he felt, if only so that he’d be able to tell his mom that he had. To talk to her, have her help him with love, the thing she believed in, in nothing else. What he hadn’t expected, was for Sirius to make it so easy. 

“When we arrived, what’d your mom think of me, Moons?” 

“My–My mam?” He starts, eyes still cast over the horizon, past the cliffs amongst which they were sitting. 

“Yeah, Re, your mom. I heard my name while you were talking. Besides, I want to know if I have the Hope Lupin seal of approval.”  

Remus stutters out a soft oh. It’s now or never, but that doesn’t mean the whole thing doesn’t set his teeth on edge. “She wanted me to tell you something.” He begins, taking a deep breath. If he didn’t force this admission out of himself right now, he wasn’t sure he’d ever have the chance, or the courage, to do it again. 

“What’d she want you to tell me?”

“Sirius I– I really fancy you.” He knows that even though his eyes are screwed shut, they should be open, he should be making sure that Sirius doesn’t hate him for this. 

“You – you really–“ 

“Yeah, but I know you don’t….” He pauses, biting down on his lower lip. “Merlin, I know you’re not a shirt lifter. Just– nothing has to change, she just really wanted me to tell you.”

“Remus” Sirius sighs, and it almost sounds like the Lupin family exasperated sigh. “Where in Godric’s name did you get the daft notion that I don’t fancy you.” 

Before Remus knows it, the boys are kissing in the light Welsh rainfall, hair full of sea spray and adoration. when they pull apart, the only thing he can think about is how he can’t wait to tell his mom. 

[dreamwritesimagines]

Faint Of Heart 28- Walking Through Fire [Ivar x Reader]

A.N.: I love your feedback so much, it makes my day <3 Please keep it coming, kisses! <3 Last two chapters! <3

Summary: Some battles are fought beside friends.

Characters: Ivar x Reader, Ubbe x Torvi, Hvitserk, Bjorn

Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of violence and blood and birth, mentions of sex and arranged marriage, please read with care. Also, friendly reminder that  I don’t condone any of the messed up stuff happening on the show or in here.

Word Count: 4527

Due to the linking issue, previous chapters are in my masterlist!

Gif’s not mine!

“You know,” Bree mused behind you, “You, staring into the horizon will not make them come back sooner.”

You heaved a sigh, dragging your fingertips on the foggy window as Eitr flew in the room, “I know that.”

“And you shouldn’t be standing up.”

You rolled your eyes, but refused to turn around.

“Y/N. You know what the physician said.”

The baby kicked inside you and you made a face, shifting your weight before tapping your fingers over your belly to calm him down.

That was a good sign. No matter how uncomfortable it was, it still meant that he was fine in there, but why was he-

Restless?

It was the same with Eitr. Lately, she had been refusing to sleep, circling in the room as if she was waiting for something.

You wanted to convince yourself it was your worries and nothing more. After all, everything seemed perfect in Kattegat. Throughout the months Ivar had been gone, it had actually flourished, something you couldn’t wait for him to see. The decisions you had made and sleepless nights had paid off, trading and finances were getting even better than before, from Earls to fishermen.

And yet, you couldn’t feel the peace.

“You’re almost due,” Bree reminded you, and came closer to lean her chin on your shoulder, reaching to press a hand on your belly, and of course, the baby kicked back at her hand, making you hold your breath, “You should be resting.”

“I can’t rest.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

“Enlighten me.”

You swallowed thickly, “What if he misses it?” you asked slowly, “The physician says it’s any day now. What if Ivar misses it?”

“That’s impossible,” Ivar stated, as he played with your hair almost lazily, “It took what? 3 or 4 months for us to reach there and come back here the last time, and I’m including our marriage into that time.”

“Yes but that was the first time.”

“It’ll be easier the second time.”

“Didn’t Bree say Edgard just changed his commanders? They might give you a hard time, and-“

“Y/N,” Ivar cut you off and pulled you close before he reached down to poke your stomach, making you squeal,

“Ivar!”

“See? You’re not even showing yet. I’m sure I will be back before maybe 5th month, there’s no way I’d miss out on meeting him while he’s all bloody.”

“Ew!” You scrunched up your nose and he grinned, then pressed a kiss to your neck, making you shift under him,

“Things might change while you’re gone,” you said sweetly, and he pulled back, an amused smile playing on his lips,

“Change?”

“You might find different people here when you’re back,” you shrugged, “Different earls…”

He chuckled, “Hmm, we’re still not over that?”

“No.” You shook your head, “Never. Until both of them are gone.”

Ivar pulled his brows together, deep in thought and heaved a sigh of defeat,

“Ubbe knows a couple of earls that can be trusted, or so he claims,” he said, making your eyes widen, “Ask him. That way you can be sure you’re giving his lands to someone we can trust.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling wide,

“Really?”

“You’re giving me an heir, little shark.” Ivar said, “The least I can do is to put your mind at ease.”

“You need to stop worrying about it.” Bree said as you turned around, almost losing your balance for what it felt like the millionth time.

“You’re not worried at all?”

Bree shot you a look, “Of course I am. What good does it do, though? Us worrying out of our minds will not create the wind to make Ivar’s ships faster.”

You rubbed at your eyes, trying to distract yourself, “Do you have plans for when Bjorn comes back?”

“Like what?”

“Like…something more?”

“Oh no, I’m not implying what you want me to imply.” Bree shook her head, “We’re still getting to know each other, my sweet.”

“But Bree, it would be amazing if you got married-“

“I just-“ Bree shook her head, “For the first time in my life, I’m not… I’m not thinking about two steps ahead. I’m not making these plans, and- and plotting and such. It feels free.”

You pouted, “I get that. I mean I’d love to plan your wedding, but-“

“Y/N.”

“But!” you pointed up, “But if you do not want to, I will not say a thing.”

“Besides, you would be too busy,” she motioned at your stomach and you smiled wide,

“I- I would make time.”

“No you wouldn’t. Just wait until he arrives, you will be too busy spoiling him rotten.”

You made a face at her, then giggled, “Is it bad that I do not want any nursemaids or anything? I want to be the only person who takes care of him.”

“It’s lovely, but you will need help.”

“But I don’t want-“

“You will not be like your mother,” Bree cut you off, “That’s impossible. Just because you’re getting some help at nights, or while you’re attending your duties doesn’t mean you’re leaving him alone.”

You rubbed at your eyes, “I still worry though-” you started, but then someone knocked on the door, and opened it to step inside.

“My queen,” Gala smiled at you “Um…Arna is here.”

Bree narrowed her eyes, looking between you, “Why?”

“To say goodbye, she says.” Gala repressed a scoff, “She does look sad to leave. Should I tell her you’re busy?”

“No, send her in.”

Bree frowned, “Y/N.”

“What? I should tell her goodbye after all, it was my idea to… exchange their lands with someone else’s.”

“Were you or were you not there when the physician said no stress?”

You scoffed, “What stress?”

“I can just tell her the baby is tiring you.”

“No need, really. Send her in, and leave us please.”

“Do you honestly think I’d leave you alone with a delusional girl who thought she could seduce Ivar by showing up here, on that bed naked?”

You arched a brow, “And where did it lead her, Bree? Out of here, that’s where.”

Bree huffed out, “I’ll be right outside,” she said, and left with Gala as Arna walked inside.

“My queen.”

“Arna,” you smiled at her calmly, “How is your father?”

“Outside, checking the carriage,” she stated, and you nodded,

“Well I do wish both of you luck. I heard your new lands are quite….far from here, but I’m confident you will both be happy.”

“And away from here,” Arna’s jaw clenched, “I wish you luck as well.”

“Me?”

“With the baby,” she nodded at your stomach, “I do admire you, I would be terrified if I were you.”

“And why is that?”

“A lot of women die in birth,” she stated, “Or lose their babies. It’d be a tragedy.”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, but you managed to keep your smile,

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about that,” you said slowly, trailing a hand in the air as Eitr started flapping her wings, making Arna steal a look at her, “I mean of course I will be fine, so will the baby, I do have Freyja’s favor after all.”

Arna’s eyes went from Eitr to you, “The King will send for me when he comes back.”

You suppressed a laugh and made a face, “Oh I wouldn’t get my hopes up. Why would he send for you, to kick you out of here again?” you motioned around the bedchamber, making her narrow her eyes,

“You’re sending me away because you know he would love me.”

“I’m sending you away because that’s Ivar’s one of many gifts for me. You annoyed me, I wanted you gone, he approved. That’s how it works around here now.”  

“I could refuse,” she said and you turned the ring on your finger, playing with it.

Of course she knew. Everyone knew what your ring meant by now.

“You will be out of here either way, Arna,” you said, “You have a choice in what way it will be. I wouldn’t push my luck if I were you. You lost, make it graceful.”

She clenched her teeth, then dropped a curtsy and stormed out of the room, and Bree peeked her head in,

“Where was she raised, in a barn?”

“My queen, you’re needed in Great Hall.” Gala said as she approached the door and you nodded, still smirking and made your way out of the room into the Great Hall.

“After this is over, I’m dragging you to bed.” Bree stated, “I’m serious. Take care of whatever it is, then you will go and rest, do you hear me?”

“What am I supposed to do, Bree? Will I start calling people to my bedchambers because I’m resting?”

“Why not?”

“You know I cannot, I just-“ you pinched the bridge of your nose, “I just wish-“

“I know.”

“So, the idea is to make sure they cannot refuse,” you told Ivar as Bree dragged the quill on the map, taking notes on some while Bjorn asked her questions, “If the baby is not a boy-“

“It’s a boy,” Bree called out, making Ivar chuckle,

“Can she see into the future?” he asked you silently, and you hushed him,

“Don’t question her. It never ends well.”

“I agree,” Bjorn said, with a fond smile on his face, arms crossed and Bree looked up from the map,

“I heard that. So, Bjorn- when you reach here, Edgard has two groups, hiding over there…”

“What if we circled them from here, would they have anywhere to run?” Bjorn asked as you turned to Ivar.

“So we will be in control, people –or lords- cannot exactly argue, especially if they’re intimidated.”

“Oh don’t worry, I will make sure they are intimidated.”

You pressed your lips together, “Ivar, my mother-“

“She will not be harmed. You have my word.”

You nodded slowly, “Anyway, if your army hits with full force, the traditions so far won’t matter. We can make our heir the ruler, it does not matter if it’s a boy or a girl. And any lord who refuses-“

“Let me handle that,” Ivar grinned at you excitedly, “So. How many lords you said?”

“Five. I already wrote a letter and gave it to Ubbe, they all hate Edgard, so if we gave them enough treasure…”

“My Queen?”

You were pulled out of your thoughts as you turned around, ignoring the sighs and whispers coming from different parts of the hall as you looked up at the tall blonde man. He smiled at you politely, a warm light shining in his eyes as he bowed.

“Earl Eric,” you greeted him as he kissed your hand,

“I just saw Earl Finnr leaving,” he said, “I do wish to thank you again for this…opportunity for me to prove myself. I do not know if I can be as good as he was, but-”

“Prince Ubbe speaks very highly of you. He says your lands are full of people who support you, and the way you rule. I’m sure you will take care of Earl Finnr’s… earlier duties just as well as he did, if not better.”

“You’re as kind as you’re beautiful, my queen.”

“Let’s hope your ruling is better than your lying, Earl Eric.” You said, making him chuckle.

“My sister is praying for your birth to go easily. Along with all of my people.”

“Please give them my gratitude,” you said, “It… means a lot to hear that.”

“She also humbly recommends that you do not listen to anyone.”

You pulled your brows together, “How come?”

“Well, she says a lot of people told her many scary stories before she gave birth. She says the stories were worse than the actual thing.”

“Oh? And do you think that’s true?”

Eric shrugged, “I would not know my queen. I had to leave the room while my cat was giving birth, I do not think I’m meant to handle such a thing.”

Bree let out a laugh, “I did not think Viking men were afraid of anything.”

“Oh, that’s what we want you to believe.” Eric grinned at her, then bowed and walked towards a group of men waiting for him. Bree nudged Gala,

“You were not joking.”

“Everyone admires him.” Gala nodded, “All my friends are talking about him.”

“Not you?”

“I…” Gala averted her glances, “Not me, I’m afraid.”

“A handsome earl walks in, he’s not married, he’s kind and charming and you’re not talking about him?” Bree asked her, making you raise your brows, and turn to Gala who blushed under both your and Bree’s questioning gaze silently. Bree tilted her head,

“Anyone we know, Gala?”

“I- I wouldn’t- there’s nothing at all, really,” she stammered, making you smile,

“Very convincing.”

“Yeah, I almost believed you, until you actually started talking.”

“Who is it?”

“An Earl,” Bree smiled wide, “I’m sure it’s an earl.”

“I’m a servant, Lady Bree. An Earl-“

“Oh who cares about that,” You waved a hand, “You deserve whoever it is your heart desires. But, you should tell us so that I can see whether he deserves you.”

“Maybe he’s a warrior.” Bree thought out loud and your jaw dropped,

“Gala?!”

“My queen!” Gala said, still blushing, and you licked your lips, stealing a look at Bree.

“It’s someone we know.”

“It definitely is,”

“Is he here now, or with Ivar?”

“Give me clues!”

“I’m not giving anything, there’s no-“ Gala started but you winced as the baby kicked again, this time closer to your ribs.

“That’s it,” Bree grabbed your hand, and pulled you out of the hall, “You’re going to bed and lying down, I don’t want to hear anything else.”

                                           *

You couldn’t sleep.

Of course you couldn’t. You didn’t want to anyway, not when he would be leaving in the morning.

You needed to enjoy your time, but somehow, the thoughts plagued your mind so badly that you could barely keep the tears at bay. Thankfully, Ivar was way too distracted to see you biting at your lip, as he dragged his fingertips over your stomach, drawing lazy circles on your skin.

“Maybe yours won’t hurt,” he thought out loud, making you at him,

“Hm?”

“Freyja favors you. Maybe she’ll make it painless.”

“That’s what you’ve been thinking?” you asked slowly and he nodded, still focused on your stomach,

“Yes,”

“You’re not thinking about the fact that you’re leaving tomorrow?”

“Why would I think about that? I’ll go and come back.”

You fell silent for a moment, which made him turn his gaze to you and he nudged at your neck with his nose,

“Hey,” he said softly, “Don’t do that.”

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered, reaching out to touch his cheek. He closed his eyes for a moment before he opened them to smile at you,

“Nothing will happen, Y/N.”

“You don’t know that-“ your voice cracked but you pressed your lips together for a moment, forcing yourself not to cry, “You can’t know that.”

“I will bring you gifts,”

You managed to roll your eyes at him, shooting him a look that made him chuckle.

“Crowns?”

“You have to give me your word.”

“To do what?”

“To be careful.”

“Of course I will-“

“I’ve heard what my brother and his men talked about you,” you cut him off, “They said it was as if you wanted to tackle death itself. You even dared people to try to kill you.”

Ivar fell into silence for a second before he shook his head,

“That was then.”

“And now?”

“Now,” he thought for a moment, then rolled over so that he could be on top of you, “Now I have you to come back to, little shark.”

You shifted under him as he pressed a kiss on your neck, his hands sneaking down to push your nightgown up, but you stopped him,

“Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“Earlier,” you licked your lips, “When you said you- my- my lack of skills. In bed.”

A look of realization dawned on his face and he froze, then he pulled back slightly to look at you better,

“What?” he asked silently and you shrugged,

“I know you apologized. I just- I want to know whether you-“

“No.”

“Because I know I’m not the most knowledgeable person in the world about that-“

“Y/N, no- stop,” he shook his head, “Stop, I didn’t… I would never mean that. You take me to Valhalla, my love. I said that merely to hurt you, and I will regret that for the rest of my days, but-“

“Ivar…”

“But I’d like to make amends, if you’ll let me.”

You pulled your brows together, distracted from the worry for a moment as he grinned at you mischievously,

“What does that mean?”

Ivar only wiggled his brows, then kissed his way down your body, pushing your nightgown up and you were just about to ask him what he was doing before you held your breath, gripping the pillow.

“And also, I feel like you should decide on the name soon so we can get it embroidered on the blankets and such,” you snapped out of your thoughts with Bree’s voice, your cheeks burning at the memory, “Or at least the initials or something!”

You shook your head, then made a face as you felt your back aching and you stretched out, cracking your back but for once, it didn’t help. You ran your fingers over Eitr’s soft feathers as she moved her head under your touch, perched on the table so that you could pet her.

“I can’t decide that alone, Bree.”

“I mean it’s better to be prepared- oh my God, Y/N, do you remember Lady Webb?”

You let out a laugh, “Yes!” you said, “She- she changed her mind about the name after giving birth to her daughter?”

“Because she didn’t look like a Cicely.” Bree mimicked her voice, “What does that even mean?”

“Don’t ask me, I wouldn’t know.”

“I asked my mother, actually-“ she shrugged, “She merely looked at me and said You just know, Bree. Very enlightening. It was better than most of our conversations though.”

“Why were our mothers terrible?” you wondered out loud, and Bree heaved a sigh,

“They didn’t know otherwise?”

“That’s no excuse.”

“I know it’s not. I just- I feel sorry for them.”

“Sorry for them?” you asked, making her nod.

“Think about it,” she said, “Your mother was in an unhappy marriage, and that mistress issue made her bitter. As for my mother, I see it now, since I have something to compare.”

“See what?”

“How it feels to be actually loved,” Bree muttered, leaning her chin on her hand, “Now that I know how it feels like, I can’t imagine myself without it.”

You smiled at her and reached out to hold her hand, then you scrunched up your nose as the baby jabbed your ribcage, making you gasp and Bree heaved a sigh.

“Again?”

“I think he will have Ivar’s aggression,” you let out a laugh as the pain stopped the minute you started talking, “He seems to want to hear my voice all the time, that’s how he stops.”

“Oh he’s Ivar’s son alright,” Bree muttered and pressed her palm on your belly, “Hi little one. How about you give your mom some resting time, hm?”

The baby moved a little as you took a small breath, but there was no sign of any discomfort from him, so your smile widened as you tapped your fingers over your dress, as if assuring him. You knew it was nonsense, everyone kept telling you the baby wouldn’t be able to understand you when he was born, much less before, but you still had a funny feeling about it.

You opened your mouth to ask Bree if she wanted to take a walk, but when the blow of a horn reached your ears, you whipped your head, your heartbeat getting faster in a moment.

You could tell what that meant in your sleep, after waiting for it for months.

“What-?”

“My Queen!” You heard Gala’s voice and she swung the door open, breathing hard as if she had been running. The wide smile on her face confirmed the last, tiny doubt you had in your mind.

“The ships are on the horizon,” she breathed out as Eitr started flapping her wings, and you stared at her, the relief washing over you so suddenly that it made your head spin.

Finally.

You pushed your chair back to stand up and rush to the window even though you were sure Bree would scold you, but before you could take a step, you doubled up as a strange sensation spread through you, and you felt the wetness trickling down your leg, making you grab at the table.

And then, all the blood drained from Bree’s face,

“Y/N…”

“No,” you choked out as it dawned on you, but Bree jumped on her feet,

“Gala, go get the physician and the midwife- tell them her water just broke.”

“What?” Gala’s jaw dropped as you gasped, the pain shot through you so suddenly that it made your vision go black for a moment. You could barely hear Gala rushing out of the door as tears filled your eyes, making you claw at the table,

“Y/N, the bed my sweet, come on-“

“I’m not- no,” you took a deep breath, “I-I can’t Bree, he’s not here yet, even if there’s wind, it’ll take those ships hours to get here.”

“Yes, and your baby does not want to wait for that,” Bree’s voice was almost too calm, as tears escaped from your eyes while you tried to breathe, and the pain dulled for a moment. Bree grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to the bed, then pushed you gently. She brushed your hair off your face as Eitr started circling in the room, and your hands balled up into fists as another wave of pain hit you, making you cry out loud before a sob escaped from your lips,

“Tell the physician to make it stop,” you gripped her hand, the panic pulsing through you as the pain went away, letting you take a breath, “Bree, please, I can’t do this alone, please make them at least- at least delay it until he gets here-“

“Y/N,” Bree’s voice was unwavering unlike yours as she cupped your cheek, hushing you, “Listen- shh, my sweet- look at me, alright? Focus, are you listening?”

You sniffled, and nodded.

“Even if Ivar isn’t here-“  she shushed you gently, “I know you want him here, but even if he’s not, you’re not alone, do you hear me? You will have me, you will have Gala, and we will be with you until the very end, I’m not moving an inch until you hold that baby.”

You wiped at your nose, tears escaping from your eyes and the door slammed open as the midwife and the physician rushed inside,

“My queen,” the physician smiled at you before ordering Gala to get buckets of warm water and towels as the midwife pushed your gown over your knees.

“How- how long will it take?” you asked her and the midwife raised her brows,

“Get comfortable your majesty, we will be here for a while, do not push yet.”

The pain burst through your whole lower back again, almost reaching your neck and you clenched your teeth, another sob leaving you before you could even stop it.

The midwife seemed to understand what you were doing though, because she shot you an almost reprimanding look.

“Everyone cries during birth, your majesty. Even the falcon queens.”  

“I’m sure everyone cries, I would definitely cry,” Bree said, still holding your hands, “And hey, maybe it is better Ivar is away right now, do you know why?”

You wiped at your eyes, “Why?”

“That way no one in the room will be threatened just because you’re crying.”

A laughter, mixed with a sob climbed your throat, “You can’t make me laugh Bree, I’m giving birth.”

“I find laughter quite useful-“ the midwife started but your ears rang as another pang of pain washed over you, making you grip Bree’s hand tighter, not even able to breathe. Gala rushed in, followed by three servants, all of them carrying buckets and towels. They placed it next to the physician and the midwife, then left the room, leaving Gala there.

“Should I leave as well, my queen?”

“You can stay if you wish,” you nodded as Bree wiped the sweat off your forehead, and you let out a breath, closing your eyes for a moment.

“What if I can’t?” you asked Bree, “People die. Babies die, I- what if-“

Bree covered your lips with her palm, glaring at you, “I will not hear a word of that,” she said, “You will be alright. So will the baby, I swear to you.”

“Freyja will help you just like she helped you with the poison, my queen,” the physician said and you dropped your head to Bree’s shoulder, as she wrapped an arm around you.

“It’s alright, through your nose, out of your mouth….” she whispered as Gala sat by you, nibbling at her lip. A small tapping noise reached your ears, making you turn to look at where it was coming from and you saw Eitr tapping her beak at the glass of the window, as if she was in a rush.

You could barely hold down the shriek of the sudden pain as your whole body clenched and you tried to breathe through it,

“Get her out-“ you choked out, “She- she needs out-“

“The baby?”

“Eitr,” you managed to say “Gala, get her out, please-“

She nodded and rushed to the window to open it, and Eitr flew out of the room like a bolt, making Gala freeze by the window,

“What?” you asked her and she turned around, her mouth slightly agape,

“I didn’t know there were that many falcons in Kattegat,” she said, “They’re….flying to the sea.”

Ivar’s ships.

“Breathe, my queen.”

“We should have written a note.” Bree stated, “It would’ve been better, because I have this horrid feeling you will make me be the person who tells him he missed the birth of his beloved heir.”

You pressed your lips together, “No, it will be Gala,” you breathed out, and Gala’s eyes widened.

“My queen, please do not let that be me.”

“I’m joking!”

“No, it will be me,” Bree scrunched up her nose, “I’m not proud of confessing this, but I will just use Bjorn as my human shield, he will understand.”

You let out a laugh, but it was interrupted by another wave of pain, this time heavier than the others. It was so powerful that you actually thought you would pass out, but it dulled for only a moment as the midwife pushed her sleeves up, and gripped your knees as the physician placed her hands on your belly.

“Now you can push, my queen.”

When the pain came back, your scream was so loud that you could swear it echoed all over Kattegat.

Special thanks to: @nympha-door-a @theskytraveler @iblogabout-stuff @mamaraptor @vikrone @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @asongofmarvelanddc @not–even-a-real–fan @alicedopey @thorohdamnson @captstefanbrandt @flowers-in-your-hayr @marauderskeeper @badbitsh13 @superwolfchild-fan @mblaqgi @thescarsweleave @marvelsvalhalla @natalielbeauty @pandalandalopalis @alyssiamarierenee @bloodyivar  , @eleanorsparkz    @illumminated @itsjoshebelbitch @vikingalexthedane @hangirl93 @mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs @skadithegoddess   @geekandbooknerd @katalina-from-hellbound @too-stressed-to-live@supercarricat @sky-daybreak@athroatfullofglass @blushingskywalker @little-froggy @girlwhoisfearless @aikeji @part-time-patronus @actuallyazriel @rhabakoli  and lovely anons! You are amazing! <3

[betweensceneswriter]

Island Hopper-Chapter 8 : Iiokwe Eok (I Love You)

Jamie takes a day off work.

Click Here to Hop to the Table of Contents

Or Read the Entire Work on Archive of Our Own

Previously on Jimjeran–Chapter 7 : Labor and Delivery

Leika’s time has come.

    I did not sleep well.  Several times in half-wakefulness I reached out, patting a small space on the bed next to me, becoming conscious with a devastating sense of loss that something was missing.  I dreamed intense dreams of laboring, and woke up with my muscles clenched, my body sweating with the effort.  After I fell asleep again, I dreamed of sitting with Jamie cradling me between his legs, my back against his chest, his arms surrounding me, letting me press against his hands as I pushed.  And when the baby was born, she had wispy black hair, deep dark eyes, and mocha skin.

    In the pre-dawn hours I again woke, this time with the strange sense that my lower abdomen felt warm.  I heard whispering behind me, and slowly became aware that Jamie’s arm was over my side. Instead of his hand gently cradling my right breast, though, which seemed to be the sleep posture he typically assumed when he was unconscious, his hand was splayed over my belly, his thumb brushing against my navel, his pinky nearly reaching my pubic bone.

    I attempted to keep my breathing slow and even as I listened to my husband whisper. “A Dhia…Ye promised children in days of old, Father.  Abraham waited, and Hannah waited.  Ye sent promises for yer own son to come, and even then Christ came as a babe.  Chì thu a cridhe, Morair.  My precious Claire was broken last night, devastated by the reminder of what she doesna have. Ye’ve done things far more impossible, and ye ken I’ve no asked for much…”  His whispers changed into words I didn’t understand, so it must have been Gaelic. “O, Naomh, èisd ri mo ùrnaigh.”

    I felt like I was intruding on an intimate moment between a Man and his Maker, but yet I felt drawn to join Jamie, so I rolled over and tucked myself in the crook of his arm.

     “I’m sorry, lass,” Jamie whispered.  “I didna mean to wake ye.”  He pressed his lips to my hair, and stroked my back until I fell asleep again.

    When I finally awoke again, the light of day was creeping around the edges of our curtains.  Jamie was still next to me in bed.

     “Jamie!  Jamie!” I shook him by the shoulder.  “It’s past nine!  You’re late for school!”

     “Come back to bed, wee one,” he said.  “Mayor Timisen is subbing for me.  After ye went to Leika’s, I knew I wouldn’t sleep much. I asked him, and then went to school to write lesson plans.  He’s going to tell the kids Majel legends and teach some history.”

     “So, you’re taking a day off work because you knew you wouldn’t sleep well?” I asked.

     “Well, that’s not all,” Jamie said, his gaze dropping. “I remembered that wi’ Maxson, ye were heartbroken after.  I needed to make sure ye’d be okay.”

     “Hmm,” I grunted.  “That’s sweet of you, but I still have to give Depo shots this afternoon.”

     “Aye,” Jamie said, “But ye ken we’ve been married such a short time.”

     “What’s today?”

     “The fourth,” Jamie answered.

     “And when did we get married?” I asked.

    Jamie grinned.  “I thought it was the girl that was supposed to remember these things…it was November 10.”

     “Maybe not the girl so much as the virgin,” I said.

     “Maybe not the virgin so much as the one with a memory for dates,” Jamie retorted.  “Ah, who am I kidding?  It’s the virgin.”

     “Not anymore, though,” I said, diving under the sheets and making Jamie laugh.

     “Stop tickling me, woman!” he exclaimed.  “It’s no fair that ye ken where I’m sens!….itive.”

    He grinned at me as I came out from the covers.  “Ye seem happy today, Claire,” Jamie sighed.  “Are ye truly okay?  Do ye wish to talk about it?”

     “Maybe,” I said.  “Shall we go for a walk on the beach?  I feel like getting out of the house.”

     “Aye,” Jamie said.  “I dinna think we have enough water in the shower, though.  Let me draw water from the well and catchment while you boil some to warm up your shower.

    Jamie pulled on some shorts and headed outside with the five gallon buckets, while I started the pot of shower water on the stove and mixed up a batch of pancakes for breakfast.  Because he was always heading out bright and early, we didn’t generally have much time for breakfast in the morning.  I also set the kettle on another burner, and scooped some coffee grounds into the French press.

    In the light of day, the world did seem brighter.  It had just been exhausting to be there with Leika, to labor along with her, to hold a precious new life, and yet to say goodbye at the end of laboring, to leave behind that warm bundle.  I knew Jamie was going to want to talk about it, and I wasn’t sure what I would say.

    Jamie had a look of concern on his face as he came into the house with two big buckets of water.  One he placed over where we kept our drinking and cooking water, and the other where we kept our well water for washing.  “Can ye come wi’ me, Claire?” he asked.  “I think it’s my imagination, but I need a second opinion.”

    I’d pulled on a sundress in anticipation of heading out to the shower, so I followed him out to the catchment, where he opened the little door and stepped aside for me to peek in.

     “Do you think the water level is dropping?” he asked.  “I mean, doesn’t it look lower than it has been in a while?”

     “Yes, I think so,” I said, “but I haven’t really paid that much attention to the water level.  And,” I met his eyes with a smile, “You have been absolutely lovely about getting the water for us most of the time.”

    Jamie’s forehead was wrinkled.  “Well, I’ll have to keep my eye on it.  I know we havena had a big rain since our honeymoon, so there’s no been much water feeding into it, but I ken we’re not using it this fast.”

    As I turned away from the catchment, I caught my husband looking at my chest. He glanced to the left and right, then quickly kissed me and enthusiastically groped me at the same time.  

     “Jamie,” I objected, “We’re in public!”

     “Ye arna wearing a bra,” he whispered, grinning. “And I dinna have to go to work.”

    I shook my head.  “Usually I’d say yes,” I responded.  “But I’m feeling kind of fragile this morning.  Definitely later, though,” I finished, at the slight look of disappointment that passed over his face.

    After showers and breakfast there was still time before my afternoon clinic hours to get out of the house, so Jamie and I put on comfortable sandals and headed toward Jabo.  We started out on the road, stopping in to see Leika and the new little one farther into Ine.  Jamie cooed and talked to little Peach while I checked Leika and asked her a few questions, and he watched with rapt attention as I unbundled Peach and listened to her heart with my stethoscope, stroking her bitty leg and placing her tiny hand around his big index finger.

     “Aw, Ripālle, she’s so cute,” he murmured quietly, inspecting the perfect, tiny fingernails.

    When we left, he instinctively put his arm around me, and led me to the rocky ocean side beach, where few people put their homes.  Because of that increased privacy, we were able to walk hand-in-hand in silence until we reached the Ine dock.

    We watched the fishermen at their work for a while, and then from there we picked our way further along the coastline until we’d rounded a corner and were out of the sight of any people at all.  

     “Here,” Jamie said, reaching for my shoulder bag. He had stuck in his lightweight hammock and two straps, and he happily busied himself attaching the hammock to two coconut palms while I strolled along the rocky beach looking for undamaged shells.

     “Itok, Ripālle,” he said, finally.  It made me smile to hear those familiar words from him. Several minutes of writhing, wiggling, and adjusting our positions, and we were cuddled together in the hammock, slightly swaying in the breeze, shaded by the trees, with a view of perfect blue skies and puffy clouds, and a sound track of the ocean waves lapping at the rocky shore.

     “Can you tell me about last night?” he said.

     “Labor was hard for Leika.  Ralik and I used pressure points and massage to reduce her pain, but after hours of it, I felt like I’d labored right along with her.  I’ve never been pregnant, but I’ve wanted to be. I’ve thought about having kids, and so it felt like I was laboring along with her.  I was exhausted when the baby came.  And then I held Peach for several hours while Leika slept.  When I left, when I came home, it was the cold, empty spot on my chest, the feeling that there was something missing that got me to begin with.  And I was exhausted, of course.”

     “We talked about children on our honeymoon,” Jamie said.  “That seems to be one of yer deep heart desires, then, am I right?”

     “I get an ache in my stomach when I see a baby,” I said.  “It feels like being homesick or lovesick, just that gut-aching longing.”  

    Jamie squeezed me tighter.  “That feeling I ken well, Ripālle.”  He chuckled. “I feel it when I’m away from you, when I look at you.  I felt it the other night when you were on the bed instead of sitting by me talking to Jenny. I’m sorry about that, by the way.”

     “I can understand her reluctance to accept me,” I said, “and you did stand up for me.”  I buried my face in his chest for a moment.  “And you demonstrated your depth of feeling afterward, too.”

    Jamie laughed and I sighed, hearing the deep, familiar rumble against my ear.

     “Ye can see why I’m terrified of her, though,” he said.  I nodded in agreement.

    We dropped into silence, but I could tell from the way Jamie did some almost-sentence-starts that he had something to say.  I looked up at his face, and urged, “Go ahead.  Ask me.”

    Brow furrowed, Jamie said, “So ye say you’re twenty-seven.  That’s no very old at all when it comes to having children nowadays. Seems many people wait until they’re over thirty.”

     “True,” I replied, “but fertility decreases drastically with age.”

     “Now, ye are a nurse, so do ye ken much about, say, fertility treatments?”

     “A little.  A woman can track her early morning temperature—that’s called the basal temperature—and when it spikes mid-cycle, that indicates ovulation.  I also know that there are medications you can take if the woman isn’t ovulating.”

     “And then, of course, there’s sex,” offered Jamie. He nodded teasingly.  “I know about that, at least.  That when a man loves a woman, he plants a little seed inside her, and it grows into a baby.”

    I cackled, and that started Jamie laughing.  “Is that really all you were taught about sex?” I asked.

     “When I was eight and that was all I could handle,” Jamie said.  “But my da had the real talk wi’ me when I was fourteen, I think.  He told me everything.”  I looked up, and Jamie was wrinkling his nose in disgust.  “I didna want to think about him and Ma doing such a thing.  I couldna look her in the face for days afterwards.”  Jamie shuddered at the memory, and I giggled again.

     “If the fertility issues seem to be worse,” I continued, “there are treatments that become increasingly complicated and increasingly costly.  Like artificial insemination or in vitro fertilization, for example.”

     “That doesna sound like any fun at all,” Jamie said. “But when the time comes and we decide to try to get pregnant, versus not trying to not get pregnant…”  I looked up at his face and took a moment to appreciate Jamie’s confusion as he sorted through the statement.  “When that time comes, anyway, I’ll happily do my part—as difficult as it may be to be forced—to make love to ye frequently.”  He said it completely seriously, but I could see the good-humored twinkle in his eyes.

    I laughed again.

     “As many times as necessary,” he offered generously.  “Day or night.  Missionary position or…something else.  Happy to contribute to the cause.”  He giggled, a very unmanly sound, as I elbowed him in the ribs.

     “Seriously, though, Claire,” Jamie said, pulling me close. “If it matters to ye, we can make a concerted effort.  I have faith that it can, that it’s no impossible.”

    I tried to decide whether to tell him or not.  “I heard you praying for me this morning.”

    Jamie sighed, “I hope it didna upset ye.  I dinna ken whether ye believe in it or not, but prayer helps me release the things I canna control to Someone bigger.  And I felt it, when I touched you, the strong feeling that the two of us will have children in our lives.”

I pulled myself upwards to kiss him on the lips, my eyes moist with tears.  He stroked my cheek, and I closed my eyes, sighing at the comfort of connecting with him.

“Now ye feel in the mood, Ripālle?” Jamie exclaimed, as I kissed him with more enthusiasm.  “Now that ye’ve made me think of my ma and da doing it?  There’s no way in hell I’m getting an erection after those thoughts.  And besides, we’re in public.”  He mimicked my words from earlier, kissing me firmly, and urging me back to my position beside him.

“But ye know, we do need to be realistic,” Jamie said solemnly. “If we arna able to get pregnant, do ye still think life together can be good?”

“Oh, of course,” I said.  “We could work, or continue to serve in the Peace Corps in other places.”

“Like Africa,” Jamie said.

“Or Central America,” I said.

“Or the Islands of the Caribbean,” Jamie offered.  “Haiti, the Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, Cuba.”

“Or just this island I’ve heard about, called Arno,” I whispered.  “It’s in the Marshall Islands, and it’s beautiful.  I hear it’s a simple life, but it’s a good one.”

“Aye,” Jamie said.  “Iiokwe Eok, Ripālle.”

“I love you too,” I answered.

On to Chapter 9: Walk of Shame Claire adds to the list of “firsts” for Jamie.

Chapter Notes: When facing infertility, you do reach a point where you have to be okay no matter what happens.  You have to decide how far you will go, how much you will spend, and when you’ll be “done” trying.  It’s not an easy thing.  I remember the realization that life could be good either way.  It was sometime after making that decision that we ended up adopting our eldest son, who ironically is half-Samoan.  I ended up with my own adorable little islander!

[ayeletgalena]

Bris Speech for Gabriel Solomon (Gavi) Galena

“Angels All Around” - Lincoln Square Synagogue 5/30/19 

--

So I was walking to shul this morning and I saw a watch store – with a big watch in the window. I walked in thinking I could get my watch fixed before the bris. The man behind the desk said, “Sorry sir, this is a mohel office – I’m a mohel, my father, my grandfather... in short, we’re all mohels.”  

“So you can't fix my watch?” The mohel responds abruptly “No”. 

So I ask while leaving, “So why then is there a big watch in the window if this is a mohel office?”

He responds, “And what exactly would you like us to put in the window....?”

Ha, I mean how many times do you get to do a Mohel Joke? I heard Seth Rogen got his start writing mohel jokes.....

----

So anyways, thank you Rabbis, friends & family for being here to welcome our little malach (malach means angel) Dovid Gavriel...

spoiler alert: We’re calling him Gavi…. I like the alliteration in a newscaster voice: “I’m Gavi Galena, The 10 O’Clock News” 

….A special thank you from myself and Hindy to the grandparents: Rabbi Reuben Poupko & Mindy, Bobby & Arna Fisher, and my mom Rita Lourie Galena for everything we know you do ...and even more for what we don’t know. It’s so special to have the blessing of grandparents on this special day as our Gavi joins the tribe.

Also to our siblings here and not here: Adina, Sarah, Benj, Isaac and Yael, Avi/Shifra, Tamar/Elliot, Ezy/Chany and Jen/David, Ari/Elyssa and Amy & Ben Fisher, Ben actually here from Chicago, thank you!

I say if the number of Poupko WhatsApps is an indication of love, this kid is set for life.  

---

So to talk about our little angel, in Hebrew Dovid Gavriel, in English Gabriel Solomon. I’d like to point to his two great grandfathers - Grandpa David Panar and Zayde Solomon Galena of blessed memory who he is named after.

This is a malach/melech (angel/king) theme – so the names David and Solomon. Two kings, standing beside you right now little Gavi.

First to the Hebrew. Dovid - Hindy’s famous grandpa Dave Panar. Arna’s incredible gentleman of a father who embodied integrity & ingenuity.  A mechanical engineer and later professor for over 25 years at the University of Alberta - he specialized in building, fixing and flying aircraft engines. He was trained first during WW2, he later found himself in Israel right before the war of Independence, and Israel had no airforce or fighter planes.

Miraculously, like everything in Israel’s history, out of the sky an Egyptian fighter jet crash lands on the Tel Aviv beach and the Israeli’s thought, heck we might be able to use this plane. In came David, who guided the search for building parts and then eventually figured out how to built Israel’s first fighter plane - The “Black Spit" -- critical to Israel’s success in the War of Independence. He gave Israel their wings. 

He went on to become a dedicated, beloved, and inspiring teacher and storyteller, so much like his daughter, Hindy’s mother Arna embodies, through her innovative educational work at Wexner Heritage and the University of Cincinnati. Both giving their students the profound unexpected inspiration, the angelic wings to go out there and soar.

So for Gavi, the wings of Israel were built on the back of your great grandpa David Panar and they are passed on to you little Gavi, to wear with pride, wisdom, strength & courage.

---

The next Melach is King Solomon, My Zayde of Worcester Massachusetts. Basically the exact opposite. He was a big, big guy, with an even bigger Massachusetts accent, and after serving in WW2 he took over his dad’s garbage business and almost everyone in town knew him. He could have easily been cast in the Sporano’s - “Solly Baby!” they would say when he appeared, The Jewish garbage & rubbish man. He cleaned up messes all around town. In fact, my year in Israel I get to yeshiva and when I say my name an older rebbe stands up and says what I hope is some connection to Philly or Twins etc, “Galena? Is your grandfather the famous garbage man in Worcester?” Nachas I never wanted but Galena’s always somehow make a name for themselves. 

My dad and our Zayde would always call us “his helpers” -- his literal malachim, surrounding him with love. And I find myself doing the same with my own children, my helpers.

---

Then the final malach - the Gavriel -  is the name we added. Gavriel is one of the archangels in the Torah, meaning God is my strength, my courage, my hero.

Funny thing about angels - my son Akiva once saw a Christmas special on TV and asked me about angels, he said so is Santa invisible? I said yes not really listening. Like Moshiach? I turn around um NO. Oh more like Hashem?? NOOO. So anyways I have some educational work to do but you get the point.  It’s a weird concept. Angels have one mission? They are invisible? They are holy? 

But when you look at who Gavriel is, he is kinda the badass angel. He represents justice, strength might, din. 

He is sorta the Fixer, the Michael Clayton, he cleans up messes. But Gavriel is all about the courage to do and fight for what is right. The original Avenger. He burns things down to build things back up. 

Side note: Gavriel is also apparently the angel of fire, and since Gavi was born on Lag Ba’Omer we found this a fitting sign for his name. Gavriel’s fire, not like Shimon bar Yochai’s fiery eyes, is often, in the end, used for the good of the story….Like the Dragon in Game of Thrones it can be fire for good (against white walkers) or fire for bad (women children in King’s Landing). Making hindy the mother of dragons..

Here are some Midrashic examples of the angel Gavriel interceding:

-Gavriel is one of 3 angels that visit Avraham after his bris, only to tell him he is off to destroy Sedom -He points Yosef in the right direction of his brothers, only so they can sell him into slavery -He collects the signs Yehuda gave Tamar only so she can confirm his paternity -He castrates Potifar (bris theme) so his wife needs Yosef, only to throw him in jail -He knocks out all the maidservants so Batya can pull out baby Moshe from the basket - He pushes baby Moshe’s hand to choose the burning hot coal instead of the gold, only to cause lisp    -He puts a tail on Vashti so she cant come out for Achashveirosh, 

There are many more.  It’s wild. Angels are nowhere and everywhere. And all these instances seem bad or painful, but in the long term ended up being the most critical pivot in our Jewish narrative.

And I ask myself - how many angels have done minor redirects in our lives? I turn left not right, meet this new person or see this old face. How many angels are in this beautiful shul alone listening. 

What I call Invisible Interventions. Little things change the course of the story. The faith in seeing the long of the story. This is the Gevura.

As the famous question around this time asks: Why is the chapter about Har Sinai next to the laws of Shmita? What’s one have to do with the other?

Because real strength is not just doing all the mitzvot- it’s the faith in waiting, holding off, the perseverance of staying the course for a year - and for some, many years. I think about on a personal level: How many needles, doctors, IVFs, retrievals did Hindy go through for this baby to get to this very moment? How many angels intervened? To believe that holding strong, come what may, is a real strength.

Azeh Ho Gibor? Hakovesh et yitzro... When do we feel most holy like angels? at the end of Yom Kippur, by holding off, by not eating. Neilah we are like angels. It’s the holding off that allows us to soar.

In our story - If our son Akiva represents comfort from loss, and Talia our blessing, Gavi represents our return of being fearless. The courage to continue. To move forward.

We have been blessed to be surrounded by angels on all four sides, as the song goes, with Rafael healing and comfort behind us ...and now Gavriel by our side. 

And as I think we can all feel in this room, if we close our eyes – V’al Roshi, V’Al Roshi - Shechina’s Kail, God’s presence, embracing us holding us, like a Rabbi Poupko classic bearhug.

---

One final interpretation of angels is in Pirkei Avos, and with this, I’ll close, it says that with each and every prayer or good deed a person does, you create an advocate, an angel. Angels are created by doing good. 

And what seems like yesterday, with the loss of our first star, angel Ayelet, still burning bright guiding us – like the torch of Lag Ba’omer...I don’t know the number of angels/advocates created by each of you here and our Ayelet Nation beyond – you have gotten us this far, your prayers/deeds were advocates - and with the new strength of our new little helper Gavi, I know we will continue to shine. 

May we all be zocheh today, tomorrow to go out there and keep creating angels… for ourselves, for others, and for our community - bimhayra vyamenu amen.

[betweensceneswriter]

Jimjeran-Chapter 36 : Love Making

It’s not what you think; Claire needs to let Jamie hear her heart.

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Previously on Jimjeran- Chapter 35 : I Choose You  The Long Road Home.

Pretty much NSFW, so it’s all after the “Keep Reading” mark.

     I couldn’t stop touching him.  

I was massaging his shoulders again, naked, standing close enough that my breasts and stomach were brushing against his back.

      “Ri-pālle, I’m trying to finish grading,” Jamie said.  He paused, and then I could feel his muscles tense under my hands.  “When we made love,” he said hesitantly, “and I…touched ye while I was inside, I thought…well the noises ye made…and what I felt, I thought you…”

      “Oh…yeah, I had an orgasm,” I assured him.

      “But…ye arna satisfied?” He paused, but he didn’t turn to look at me.

      “Sexually, yes.  Emotionally, no,” I admitted honestly.  “Jamie, I was one decision away from losing you forever.  Just yesterday. Will you come back to bed and hold me?  Are these tests that important?”

      “No more important than my wife,” Jamie said, reaching back, grabbing me around the waist, pulling me next to him, and quickly nipping at my breast.  “But the kids were very worried about their science test grades, and I promised them I’d have them graded before tomorrow. You would have me be a man of my word, would ye not?”

      “Definitely,” I said, with a sigh of resignation.  He was right, of course.  The things that made me love him were also the things that obligated him to others as well.  I wrinkled my forehead in thought.  “Is there any part I could grade for you?  I’m happy to help if it means I can have your attention back sooner.”

     Jamie smiled at me, an endearing lopsided grin.  “Aye,” he said.  “But will ye put something on?  I canna focus wi’ yer naked body so close.” Obligingly I found the tank top and shorts next to the bed where Jamie had flung them an hour previously after removing them in just the way he’d promised.  When I stood back up after bending to retrieve them, though, Jamie looked away quickly, his face flushing.

      “You know, you can look at me,” I said.  “I’m your wife.  This…” I indicated my body, “is yours to enjoy.”

      “Aye?” Jamie said, directing his gaze back at me.

      “Definitely!” I said. “It makes me feel beautiful to know you want me.”

      “That I do,” Jamie said, his voice dropping nearly an octave as he cocked his head to the side, staring at me as I pulled my shorts up. “Hmm,” he said, eyes twinkling.  “Why don’t ye stop wi’ just that.  Once we’re done, I will come back to bed wi’ ye, but I canna promise it will be just to hold ye.”

      “Whew!” I fanned myself, looking away.  “Is it hot in here?”

      “Actually, it is,” Jamie said, grinning, “But I dinna think that’s what ye meant.”

      I sat down at the table, and Jamie handed me a small stack of papers and a red pen.  Riti Botla’s name was at the top of the first test.

      “She got a hundred percent,” Jamie said, with a fond smile.  “Use her work as the master key to grade the other students’ matching sections.”

      “Can I use purple pen?” I asked, looking with distaste at the red one.  “It’s just a friendlier color.”

      “D’ye want yer husband to get teased more than he already is by his students?”

      “Do you get teased on a regular basis?” I asked, wondering what his students would tease him about.

      “Aye,”  he said, “And it’s all your fault.  The boys tease me by asking me if I touch your body and kōmmon nana wi’ ye; the girls tease me by asking me when I’m going to have a baby wi’ ye, and they all tease me any time I accidentally get distracted by thoughts of ye; which, sadly, happens more than I care to confess.”

     I leaned my chin on my hand and stared adoringly at Jamie.  “Dammit, I have such a crush on you,” I said.

      “Do ye now?” Jamie asked, looking adorably pleased at the thought.  But then his eyebrows furrowed pensively.  “But you love me too, don’t ye?”

      “Yes,” I said earnestly.  “That’s why I’m here.  And there are things I want to say to you, things that I realized as I talked to Frank about my decision, things that you need to hear.  But, I really want it to be distraction free, so let’s finish this up first.”  Jamie nodded, and we turned to the pages in front of us.

     As I began to grade, I realized that the sheets looked handwritten, and the ink was blue.  “You don’t have electricity,” I said.  “How did you make copies?”

      “Have ye heard of a mimeograph?” Jamie asked.

      “I might have heard the word,” I answered, shaking my head, “but I don’t know what it is.”

      “It’s a machine, run by crank, that creates copies of documents when ye dinna have electricity.”

      “How does it work?”  I asked, as I moved on to the next test.

      “Well, ye use special paper and write really hard to create a carbon copy.  It makes a mirror image of the writing, so it’s backwards.  Then you use the mimeograph machine, tucking your original into an slot on a large metal barrel and using a special solvent that allows the blue writing to be imprinted on paper.  Then ye crank, once for each copy, and it will make a good number of copies, up to 50, I think.”

      “Neat,” I said.  “I hadn’t really thought about the lack of computers, and Ipads, and printers and copiers out here.  It probably makes it a little harder to teach.”

      “I dinna think so, actually,” said Jamie, shaking his head.  “Wi’ out those things to distract the children, they actually find us teachers very amusing, and they enjoy school.  And here in the islands, education is respected, and teachers are revered around here.”

      “But still teased?” I said, stretching my back while his eyes were on me.  I tried to look nonchalant, but the stretch wasn’t only for my benefit.

      “Aye,” said Jamie.  “Still teased.” He looked at me hungrily.  “Perhaps we should work more and talk less, lass.  I’m beginning to feel a little hot myself.”

     I finished grading, but Jamie still had a few short answer questions to read over.  I used his calculator to total points and figure percentages, but finally I had done everything I could.

     I sighed deeply, and caught Jamie eyeing me.  “Ye arna very patient, wee one,” he said.  “So I’m going to give ye an assignment.”

      “Now, what would that be?” I asked curiously.

      “I confessed the dark desires I had for ye before we married,” he said.  “Now it’s going to be your turn.” 

      “Is it?” I asked, eyebrows raised. 

      “Aye,” he affirmed.  “Get to work.  Think it over.  Make a plan, and take care of anything ye need to get it ready.”  He chuckled.  “Or to get yerself ready.”

     If Jamie had first thought of making love to me when he first walked me home and held me, my first lustful thought about him was when he hung out with me on laundry day.  When the storm came, after pulling the laundry off the line I stayed in the yard and danced in the rain.  Then, soaking wet to the skin, I joined him under the awning.   The two of us huddled there and he put his arm around me as I shivered, apparently not caring that I was getting him wet.  He looked at my lips, and I wanted him to kiss me, or more.

     Watching my face as I was thinking, Jamie smiled broadly.  “Oh,” he said.  “I’ve a feeling this is going to be good.” 

      “But I haven’t said a word,” I said. 

      “Your face told me plenty!” Jamie turned back to his grading with a new intensity, as I went and started a pot of water boiling, then searched through the closet for my clingiest sundress.

     How am I going to do this?  I wondered.  I didn’t want to attract attention by being inappropriate outside, but I thought that’s at least where we should begin.  When it appeared that Jamie was on his last test, I took the pot outside to the shower.

     Jamie looked up as I was leaving.  “Am I joining ye?” he asked. 

      “No.  Just wait.  I’ll let you know when it’s your turn to enter the scene.”

     I felt a little ridiculous and not a little horny as I changed into the sundress, sans underwear, then poured warm water over myself.  The dress clung to my curves, my hair hung down in droopy ringlets, and I was soaking wet.  I stood in the shower for a minute, letting the excess water drip off, then shook my head, rolled my eyes, walked to our door, and knocked, standing there dripping.

     Jamie came to the door.  When he saw me, he almost gasped.  I could tell from the instant softening of his expression that it meant something to him that I’d chosen this moment.

      “Your face just said something,” I said to him.  “Can you tell me what you were thinking?”

     He looked down bashfully.  “I thought…That day I thought you might feel something for me.  But then I talked myself out of it.  It made me doubt myself.  Made me think I was a fool, reading something in yer eyes that wasna there.”

     I pulled Jamie down to me and kissed him on the lips.  “I was ashamed of it, then, because I felt like I was cheating on Frank emotionally.  But let’s not focus on that.  Quick, put your arm around me, and then let’s go inside.”

      “Just a minute,” Jamie said.  He looked down at my body, his gaze focusing on two particular points.  “Mmm,” he grunted appreciatively.  “I remember that afternoon quite vividly.  But I think ye’ve cheated a little.  I think ye were wearing a bra that day.  Ye arena wearing one now.”

      “But I’m wet like I was that day,” I said. 

      “Itok, Ripālle, and we’ll see if ye are or if ye aren’t,” Jamie replied, guiding me inside, his arm around my shoulders.

     As we came inside, Jamie turned off the lights and pressed me against the door with his body, kissing me as he gathered up my dress with both hands.  The dress warred against him, attempting to stay fused to my wet skin.

      “Just a minute, Jamie,” I said, pushing on his chest.  “I’m engaged.  So we can’t actually have sex.  Are you okay with that?”

     He pulled away briefly, looking down at me.  It took a second for him to register that I was playing Claire back then instead of myself, but then he got an impish grin.

      “Aye,” he said.  “Then, we should slow this thing down.”  With that, he knelt in front of me, and put his hands on my hips, while I rested my arms on his shoulders.  “Claire, you’re like a Silke,” he said, looking at me, running his fingers through strands of my still-dripping hair.   “All shiny and wet, like ye just came out of the sea.  Are ye ‘eternally lustful’ like the Silkes? Because I think I’ve already lost my heart to ye.  If ye leave me, I ken I would be lovesick forever.”

      “When I’m around you, yes, Jamie, I am filled with lust.” I responded.  He leaned down slightly and took my nipple in his mouth, biting just enough to make me squirm, then sucking until I could hear the sound of the water flowing through the fabric.  He gripped me tighter, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my hips and hindquarters.

     He put his mouth on my other breast and groaned.  “A Dhia, Ripālle, I want to see ye naked.  But my da said a good policy to keep yer virginity is to never be naked together.”

      “But I can’t keep these wet clothes on,” I said innocently.  “I need to change.”

     Married Jamie grinned as he sorted through the possible responses Virgin Jamie might have had, and then slowly stood up.  “Aye.  Ye should change.  I will turn my back and give ye privacy.”

     I went to my dresser and pulled out a peach satin chemise.  So far, we’d pretty much gone the route of clothing straight to naked when we had sex, and I hadn’t bothered much with lingerie.  I turned to see if Jamie was peeking, which I completely expected, but he had his back to me, chin up, looking away from me.

      “Okay,” I said, once the chemise had fallen over my body.  Jamie turned, and his eyes widened.

      “God, Claire,” he said, “Just when I dinna think ye could be any more beautiful, there ye are.”  He stood and stared at me.  “I dinna feel like I’m worthy to touch ye.”

      “Are you acting right now, or serious?” I asked.

      “So serious,” he said.  He stepped forward and took me in his arms.  He rocked me, back and forth, one hand at the back of my head, the other one around my back. 

     I looked up at him.  “I don’t want to pretend anymore,” I said.  “This is real, and my feelings for you are real, and I want to make love to you, so that you don’t wonder whether what you’re feeling is really me.”

     Jamie stroked my back and my hair, continuing to weave back and forth as he held me.  It was curious, but my desire started to ease away.  Instead, I just felt peace.

      “I’d like to hear what it is you wanted to say to me, Claire,” Jamie said.

      “Like this?”  I asked.  “Not lying down in bed?”

      “Like this,” he said.  “What did you tell Frank that ye havena told me?”

      “I told him that you are my soul mate, that with you…”

      “Not like that,” Jamie said.  “Talk to me, not to Frank.” 

      I suddenly felt vulnerable, as I looked up into his piercing blue eyes, darkened by dilated pupils.

      “Jamie,” I said.  “I don’t know if you believe in soul mates, but I have never felt this way about anyone.  I’m so comfortable in your presence, and yet you wake my body like no one ever has.  I’ve never been so satisfied being with a person, and yet ached so badly when we’re apart.”

      “I’ve been accused of being needy—by boyfriends who felt like I asked for too much affection from them.  But with you I feel satiated and full. Jamie, I love you.“

     Jamie’s eyes were moist as he pulled me to him and kissed me on the forehead, wrapping his arms around me again.  He sighed, his muscular chest and abdomen expanding, pressing against me.  He started crooning in Gaelic into my hair.

      “Mo chridhe…oh, Claire,” he said.  “I’ve been so afraid.  That I love you more than you could ever love me; that I want you more than you could ever want me.  Do you know how much it means to hear ye say all this, Ripālle?”

      Wordlessly I hugged him in answer.

       “This may sound strange, Claire, but I want to not make love to you,” Jamie said slowly, as if in disbelief at his own words.  “What we have isna just about sex, Ripālle.  Because love will last even when we’re too old and feeble to make love to each other anymore.  Tonight I just want to fall asleep with you close to me.”

     We turned off the lights, climbed into bed, and I fell asleep to the steady sound of Jamie’s beautiful heart.

On to Chapter 37 : Snorkelbathing What do you do to combat the farmiest of farmers’ tans?

Chapter Notes: On Arno, we had to use a mimeograph machine to make copies for teaching.  I got so used to using it, that when I thought about coming back to the States, I wondered what I would do without it.  How would I make copies of worksheets for my students?  Ummm, copy machines, maybe?

And, um, TMI.  This afternoon I had my husband kneel down in front of me to see where we lined up, since he’s 6'2”, I’m 5'6". (Jamie's 6'4".)  I told him it was for "science."  He has decided he really likes being the lab rat for all my writing…