#in fairness i have been awake for 19 hours so i am probably just tired

[leiflitter]

🤷‍♀️

[dearest-bucky]

Birthday wish (One Shot)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes doesn’t love his birthdays, but maybe he can learn to. 

Words: 2.5K

Warnings: none,  a fluffy ending as usual hihii

A/N: I was supposed to write and post this on Bucky’s birthday but couldn’t find it in me to do, so here it is now. I hope you like it! Feedback is truly appreciated! xx

Originally posted:  March 19. 2020

Monday,  11:05 PM

It was late and they were all battered and exhausted, but despite that, they still had to swipe the place to find any new information on Hydra and then blow it up to hell.

What was supposed to be a simple recon mission, ended up being a real bloodbath. As always. When has there ever been such thing as a simple mission with the Avengers? Something would always come and fuck up the plans for an easy in and out job.

This time the fuck up came in the form of more than a dozen Hydra thugs charging at them with guns and knifes, resulting in the death of them of course. But despite the result and the fact that they won the battle, the Avengers didn’t come out without scratches or wounds themselves.

Steve had a busted lip, Bucky was having technical problems with his arm because of a bullet that was caught in it, Sam had a seemingly deep gash on his side that kept oozing blood out and Y/n was fuming because ‘she had just done her nails the other day and she broke one of them while fighting with those Hydra bastards’.

“Thirty seconds until explosion.” Steve informed over the comms and all of them made a run for the jet before they could get caught in the big boom.

As soon as they got in, y/n was on Sam’s side, helping him with his wound.

“C'mon Bird Man, I have get you out of this shirt if you don’t want to die of bleeding out.”

“If you wanted to see me naked all you had to do was ask sweetheart.” Despite the fact that his skin was paler than ever before and he was losing all energy, Sam still couldn’t give up him sense of humor.

Bucky who was sitting just a few inches away, chuckled at his words but said nothing anyway.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully and pressed on his gash with an alcohol pad a little more than necessary, making Sam wince in pain. Then she continued to clean his wound and did her best to stop the bleeding until they got to the compound. She was no doctor after all, and every specific procedure would have to wait for a real specialist of medicine.

Tuesday, March 10 3:34 AM

After arriving at the compound and literally taking Sam with force to the medical bay, Y/n could finally get to her own room and get a well deserved shower. The mission had taken a toll on her, same as on everybody else, but to be fair, those super soldiers had it easier when it came to fighting.

Once she got in the shower and let the hot water wash down all the dirt and blood off of her, she felt herself immediately relax. It was all she needed and she could live there forever. However, after another 10 minutes of thoroughly washing herself she turned the water off and wrapped a big fluffy towel around her body.

Next thing in the list: sleep.

She patted her body dry with the towel and changed into a pair of clean pajama, falling in her bed like the dead, immediately shutting her mind out and letting sleep take her away.

She was soundly sleeping when her door silently opened and somebody got in her room with small, quiet steps.

“Doll, you awake?” Nothing more than a whispered voice breaking the silence of the night, and when the only answer he got was her heavy breathing, he turned around without so much as a noise and left, just as he had come.

Y/n was still soundly sleeping.

5:00 AM

Bucky couldn’t sleep. No matter how tired he was. No matter how much he wanted to close his eyes and get a couple of much needed hours of sleep. He couldn’t close his eyes. He couldn’t shut his mind.

Today was his birthday. Not that he cared that much about it. He had had more birthdays than he cares to count anymore, but there was something about the date that made him restless.

He was currently in his room, half laying in his bed, a few old photos scattered carelessly on his blanket. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of them.

One of his mother with a little baby on her arms, his baby sister Rebecca. A couple more of his parents, one of his sister alone. Another of him, in his army uniform, a boyish smirk plastered on his face.

“Young fool.” He thought to himself.

All those pictures were some kind of present from Steve when he first got back from Wakanda. He said they would help him with his recovery, and of course everyone should have at least a couple of photos of their family.

After all, they were the only thing he had left from his family. And Bucky really held on to those photographs.

With most of his memories back, he remembers one of his early birthdays. He was turning 20, probably, and he and Steve had gone to this dance club in Manhattan.

He had literally begged Steve to go with him there just to dance with some pretty dames he couldn’t remember their names anymore. And that was not because of the brainwashing.

Now he hated his birthdays. Just another day to remind him he shouldn’t be alive now, in this year. Another reminder of all the things he had been through in his long, miserable life.

He let out a long sigh and turned to lay on his side, placing the photos carefully on his nightstand.

10:30 AM

The kitchen was buzzing with lively chatter, however not everyone was feeling their brightest today.

With most of the team having a day off, it was natural they wanted to spend it relaxing at home, so they were all enjoying their late breakfast and talking with each other about everything and more.

Y/n made her way to the coffee machine for the second time that morning and Natasha chuckled at her state; eyes puffy from tiredness, as if she hadn’t slept a wink, hair messy, she didn’t care enough to look at least presentable today.

“Aren’t you a treat for the eyes?” She teased and y/n just grunted in response, chugging down a large sip of her coffee.

Only after she had drank the second mug, she rubbed her face with her hands and tried to pat down the messy hair by combing it with her fingers.

She turned to look around the room, finding Natasha and Wanda sitting near her talking about God knows what, she wasn’t paying attention to any of it.

Steve was standing a few feet away, reading a newspaper like a grandpa. No matter how much anybody tried to convince him to read the news online, he insisted that actually touching the newspaper was quite a feeling. Weird old man.

Bruce and Tony were just next to Steve talking about their next science project, apparently, and Vision was creepily floating on Tony’s left side, listening intently to what they were saying.

Just as she averted her eyes to look for somebody else, Sam entered the kitchen looking so much better than last night, a bright smile adorning his silly handsome face.

“Good morning everyone.” He greeted cheerfully and all the people in the room greeted him back with the same enthusiasm.

Steve was the first to fold the newspaper he was reading and got up from his seat, patting Sam on the shoulder and asking him if he was doing okay.

When they both sat down again Y/n went to Sam with a plate of pancakes Wanda had made earlier and a cup of hot coffee, offering it to him.

His eyes shone bright and he stretched his arms out to give her a hug. “You’re an angel.” He said only for her to hear and she grinned in response.

“Do you know where Bucky is?” Y/n then asked when she sat down next to both men. “Is he still sleeping?”

Steve shifted in his seat uncomfortably and smiled sweetly her way, trying to not make his best friend look weird in y/n’s eyes.

“No, he actually got up about an hour ago and he left the compound. Said he had some work to do.”

Y/n only nodded her head in understanding.

She knew today was Bucky’s birthday and she knew how much he hated it, just like he hated making a big deal out of it, like celebrating or throwing a party. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t even wish him “Happy birthday”. However if he was out of the compound all day there was no way for her to do that either.

If there was one thing y/n knew though, was that she wasn’t going to let this go. No matter how much Bucky tried to disappear on his birthday as a way to avoid the wishes and presents and whatnot, y/n was a really stubborn person, so she wouldn’t let him off the hook easily this time.

Last year she had made him a cake and when all the team were having dinner together she brought the cake out singing “happy birthday” to Bucky. What she didn’t expect though, was for him to get upset with her and storm out of the room.

When she went after him to ask what was wrong he yelled at her saying that 'She didn’t have to do anything for him. They were not even friends so why would she care about his birthday. He didn’t even care about his own birthday!!’

But that was last year though. Last year Y/n was new to the team and Bucky was right, they weren’t even friends. They were barely teammates at that point.

This year however, things were different.

With each passing day after that 'dreadful one’, as y/n jokingly calls it now, they have actually created a special bond with each other, relying on each other a little more than they both would care to admit. It was a unusual connection, something neither of them could name. Something between more than friends but less than lovers. Something between denial and acceptance of feelings. Feelings they still hadn’t labelled.

9:15 PM

Bucky hadn’t returned to the compound the whole day. She had been waiting for him to come back sometime, but after waiting around for most of the day, she decided to stop sulking around in her room waiting for Friday to let her know when he was back.

With a newfound purpose she made her way to the kitchen and got out everything  she needed from the cupboards to make little cupcakes. Every flavor she could think of; chocolate and peanut butter, vanilla, chocolate filling, sprinkles strawberry, red velvet.

After whole hours of mixing and baking she put them all in a serving tray, putting them on the counter for anyone who would pass by the kitchen to see and eat.

All but one. She picked a chocolate one and a small birthday candle and headed to Bucky’s room. She knew he wasn’t back yet, but she figured she could wait for him there.

After more than half an hour waiting and still no sign of Bucky, y/n was starting to feel sleepy.

She glanced at the small clock on his nightstand, bright red numbers shining 11:54 PM on the screen.

Figuring it was only 6 more minutes until his birthday would be over, she just lit the candle and placed the cupcake on the nightstand as well, the candle slowly burning. She decided to lay down on his bed to rest her eyes for a moment before he would come back.

She knew he was about to come back. With the day finally being over and everything.

It was strange how well she knew him. But then again, they had spent the best of last year’s together, most of the time attached to the hip and during this whole time they had learned almost everything about each other.

With thoughts of him in mind she fell asleep slowly, then all at once.

11:57 PM

Bucky sighed when he arrived at the compound. He had been all day out wandering around New York, mostly in Brooklyn, comparing new stores with the old ones, alleys, streets, bars, everything.

He opened the door to his room quietly, force of habit really, this whole having to always be quiet thing. But he also didn’t want to make too much noise that could wake any of the guys up, especially Steve whose room was next to his.

Just as he got inside his room, his eyes fell on the body that was curled on his bed, sleeping soundly. Then to the cupcake on the nightstand, with the candle almost entirely melted, but still lighting. His mind connected the dots easily and he let out a breath he didn’t know was holding.

He shuffled awkwardly around the room until he decided to wake y/n up, going to the bed, half hovering over her.

“Y/n…” He shook her arm slightly, but it was enough for her to wake up.

“Bucky.” She smiled at him sweetly, one of her smiles that was always directed to him and he knew that well.

Her eyes quickly averted to the cupcake beside her and she got herself up, now sitting on the bed and quickly took the small dessert in her hands. The clock was showing the time 11:59 PM.

“Quick, blow it!” The candle was half out, just a small flame hanging in there, like a last breath of life.

Upon seeing the hopeful glint in her eyes, he blew the candle out without a second thought and she smiled at him again.

“Happy Birthday Bucky!” Her voice was barely a whisper but he heard it clear.

Not wanting to break her heart with his grumpiness he smiled back and thanked her.

“Did you make a wish?”

He nodded his head softly.

He had made his wish way before that moment. Actually, since the moment he saw her enter the compound after Nick Fury when she was just a new recruit. Then he had made his wish when she made a birthday cake for him in his last birthday. And he had made his wish yesterday before they went on that mission, and after they came back.

He had been making wishes every day since the day he met her. And it was always the same.

With big eyes she was looking at his face, expectantly, waiting for him to tell her what he wished for.

Instead he showed her.

Putting the cupcake back on the nightstand he took her hands in his and closed the distance between them, kissing her softly. He lightly swept his tongue between her lips, pressing his warm, soft lips to hers.

She sighed against his mouth and he felt his heart flutter in his chest. Maybe he could learn to love his birthday again.

[spencers-dria]

Do You Trust Me?

Someone To Stay Ch. 6

Spencer x fem reader

Y/N POV:

*whack*

You smack your alarm as it goes off for the third time this morning. You look at the clock: 7:15AM. Was it later than you get to sleep in for work? Sure. Did you want to get up this early on your day off? Nope. Between JJ being the planner and Penelope's excitement for the weekend, they had convinced the the group that it would be best to get an early start. It was a several hour drive the to the lake, and they wanted to make the most of our time there.

You roll out of bed and look in the mirror. Sweats and a spaghetti strap tank...this will have to do. You leave your hair in the messy bun that you slept in. Half asleep, you fumble around for some socks and slip on some sandals. A horrific choice you know, but we're going for comfort here, not fashion. It'll be fine. You're not trying to impress anyone, and you'll fix yourself up once you get to the lake. You fully intend to nap part of the way there. You don't even bother to grab breakfast. Instead, you grab your bags you packed the night before and head downstairs. Spencer is probably waiting on you already.

You see him pulling the car up, right on time, as you make your way down the stairs. You slide into the passenger side, setting your bag down in the back seat. Reaching into a road trip bag in your lap, you pull out a blanket and pillow and curl up in your seat.

"Good morning sleepyhead" he chuckles. "Not a morning person, huh?"

You grin. "What gave it away?"

He hands you a paper bag and a coffee cup.

"Don't worry, it's green tea and honey" he reassures you, sensing your hesitation.

"I also got you a bagel."

"I don't know who's been giving you trade secrets but food is really the number one way to win me over." You glance over to see a slight smirk on his face. "How are you so awake? You had time to get ready, grab food, drive to my apartment, and you still seem more awake than I do."

"I'm kind of used to not getting much sleep." He shrugs this off as if it's nothing. You sense he doesn't intend on explaining any further, so you decide not to push him.

"I brought some snacks too. You're welcome to anything you'd like." You pull out a some goldfish, fruit gummies, and Capri suns.

He responds with a laugh.

"Ok you have the appetite of a ten year old."

You feel embarrassed for a moment until you see the smile he's giving you.

"It's cute though."

You find yourself blushing, not used to compliments. "Yeah I guess sometimes I just like to let loose, let my inner child out. Not everything has to be so serious all the time, ya know? What we do, both of us...it's stressful stuff. Sometimes eating whatever the heck I feel like helps with that. If that means chocolate milk and cocoa crispies cereal for dinner then so be it!"

Spencer gives you another smile before holding his hand out. "Alright, you won me over. I'll take a Capri sun."

You can't help but laugh as you watch him try to insert the straw with one hand and drive with the other. After awhile you decide to help him out.

"Here, let me see that." You fix the straw and hand him back the drink. "Goober" you laugh as you rolls your eyes at him.

"So what all are you planning on doing at the lake this weekend?" He asks.

"The question is...what am I NOT going to do?"

"Ugh." He rolls his eyes and laughs. "No fair. You're athletic, coordinated. You can actually do all the fun stuff."

You turn to face him with an incredulous look on your face, jaw dropped. "You're kidding me right? Me? Athletic? That's funny!" You laugh shaking your head. "Nahh I'd say we're on a level playing field. I'm not coordinated at all! I just like go have fun, try adventurous things. Like kayaking, I'm just mediocre but I still love doing it. The only sport I ever did was swimming."

"Ha! You were a swimmer, we're going to a lake, and you think we're on a level playing field?"

"Ok fair enough" you concede. "Will you at least try something new this weekend? Please?" You bat your big brown eyes at him, a technique that rarely failed you.

He feigns a look of annoyance, before a smile finally starts teasing at the corner of his lips. "Alright, alright." He throws his hands up in surrender. "But only if you help me with whatever it is we do. A swimmer and a nurse, you're practically our lifeguard for the weekend. Don't let me drown, ok?" He teases.

"Well since you asked so nicely." You give him a playful punch in the arm as you both laugh.

After a brief moment of silence you hear Spencer speak up. "Did you know that Michael Phelps is the most decorated Olympian of all time, winning 28 medals in total, 23 of those being gold medals? He swam in his first Olympic Games at only 15 years old, and won his first gold medal at 19. And you...already knew this didn't you?" He stops when he sees your eyebrows raised, giving him a slight smirk.

"Yeah Spencer" you smile, shaking your head at him. "I don't mind though. I like hearing all the cool stuff you know."

You spend awhile listening to Spencer talk about everything from Olympic swimming facts to CPR statistics and the origin of the different swimming strokes. A lot of it you don't know already, and you enjoy learning all of this stuff from him. After awhile, you unintentionally drift off to sleep.

He looks over and smiles, he doesn't mind. This happens to him quite often, and the fact that you encouraged him to share his knowledge gives him comfort. He reaches over and pulls the blanket over your shoulders. Hoping to drown out the sound of the highway, he puts on some classical music at a low volume.

You wake up a couple hours later as you hear the loud sound of gravel under the tires.

"Morning sunshine" he grins at you.

"Oh I'm sorry! I wasn't going to make you drive the whole way."

"It's ok, you got your rest. Better you be rested up and have fun today than stay awake just to drive."

"Thanks Spencer." You smile to yourself. He really was very sweet. Good friends are hard to come by, especially ones you can trust that will stick around. You secretly hope that Spencer doesn't plan on dropping you as a friend anytime soon.

You climb out of the car and take a look around. You've arrived at a modest log cabin, sitting right on the edge of the lake. It's surrounded by y'all trees, so thick that you can't see any buildings anywhere else, if there are any. You stand there for a moment taking it all. You lean your head back and close your eyes, enjoying the sounds and smells of nature. It felt like home. You grab your bag out of the backseat and make your way along a dirt path toward the cabin. You stick yourself hand out by your side, brushing the leaves on the trees as you walk by.

"You really are in your element here, huh?" you hear Spencer call out from behind you.

"Oh you have no idea. Just wait till I get in the water" you shout back over your shoulder.

The two of you make your way into what appears to be the common living room. The cabin appears to be completely wooden everywhere, floors, ceilings, walls, beams. There's rustic decor and lots of plaid, but it's done tastefully. It feels so cozy, and you love it.

"Y/N! You made it! We're in here!" You see Penelope's head pop out of a doorway. You enter a room to find two sets of bunk beds. Penelope and Alex have taken bottom bunks. JJ has her stuff placed on the top bunk above Alex. You set your suitcase in an empty corner and throw your pillow on the bed above Penelope. You feel her sneak up and pull you into a tight hug. "Hey bunk buddy! This weekend is going to be so fun!"

"I'm surprised Penny, the outdoors don't seem like your type of weekend."

"Oh don't worry honey! I brought a float with coasters and a tray for the lake! I'll be sipping on wine and tanning all weekend."

"Just make sure to wear sunscreen okay." You give her a nudge and a smile.

"Okay Nurse Y/L/N." She rolls her eyes and laughs.

"Don't worry! I brought enough sunscreen for everyone."

"Haha, of course you did Aunt JJ."

You look over to see her unpacking her suitcase and organizing her things in the drawers and closets. You decide to do the same, that way it will be easier to find all your things later. After you've all finished unpacking, Alex says she's going to take a quick nap. After getting ready in your swim wear and coverups, you, Penelope, and JJ wander over to the guys room to see what they're up to.

You peek in to see Spencer reading on the bunk above Hotch, who appears to be on a FaceTime call with his son, Jack. Rossi isn't in the room. He's probably already started organizing things in the kitchen. Derek looks like he's ready for the lake, already in swim trunks and rubbing on sun tan lotion.

"You need any help with that, hot rod?" Penelope jests.

"You know it mama."

At this response, Penelope runs quickly across to room and helps Derek to finish rubbing in the suntan lotion on his back. She looks to be enjoying it a little too much.

You and JJ stay leaning in the doorway, laughing.

You finally speak up. "I don't know about y'all, but I've been stuck in a car all day! So if you need me, I'll be out at the lake!"

"I'm right behind, ya." JJ turns to follow you.

At this, Spencer finally pops up from behind his book. "Oh umm, we're going outside now? What are you going to do?"

"I don't know yet Spencer, come with us and we'll figure it out."

You wait on him while he changes into some swim trunks and a t shirt. He stands in the doorway a bit awkwardly, hesitant to leave the cabin.

"Come on!" You grab his hand pulling him out onto the porch and down toward the lake, following behind JJ, Penelope, and Derek.

When you get to the waters edge, you see the group has already spotted a rope swing. Derek appears to be climbing into a position to jump from. JJ stops him, to test the integrity of the rope first.

Penelope watches as Derek effortlessly climbs up the rocks. "My monkey man" she smirks.

Once JJ seems satisfied that the rope won't break, Derek swings out over the water, doing a back flip before making a splash in the water that sprays everyone watching from the shore. A chorus of groans rings out, half from annoyance at the show off, half from not wanting to get splashed.

You remove your shoes and your coverup as you prepare to get in the water. You can tell Spencer is making a conscious effort to avert his gaze. You blush, suddenly remembering the girls' previous comments about how good you looked in the slick back two piece.

You quickly make your way up the rocks and grab onto the rope as it swings back towards you. Spencer gives you a concerned look.

"Are you sure you want to do that? You could get hurt!" He shouts up at you.

Instead of answering you give him a quick smirk. You back up and get a running start for momentum, holding onto the rope as you swing out over the water. You let the momentum push you out as far as it will take you, as you angle your arms and body to dive deep into the water, just like you used to off the starting block in swimming. As you feel your body dive down into the water, you angle back up and do a quick, few dolphin kicks, propelling yourself much further from the shore. When you finally surface, you're about 20 or so meters from the shore. You see the group staring at where you dove into the water, confused and concerned.

"Over here guys!" You shout at the group to get their attention. They look up to see you much further away than they expected.

"Hey, you weren't kidding!" Spencer laughed.

"We might have to have ourselves a little competition little miss mermaid!" You laugh at Derek's new nickname for you.

You do a few strokes to bring you back to shore as you climb out of the water. You slick your hair back out of your eyes as you wring your hair out.

"Alright Spencer! Your turn!"

You giggle as you grab his hand and drag him towards the rocks.

"Umm yeah this is definitely not a good idea. You clearly know what you're doing, but I will definitely hurt myself. Did you know that drownings are the third leading cause of unintentional deaths?"

"Stop being such a party pooper! Loosen up a bit. Now climb." You cross your arms giving him a look that lets him know you mean business.

"If you fall, your knight in shining armor, Y/N will catch you!" Derek shouts from his spot where he's swimming in the lake. JJ and Penelope are watching from a float shaped like a giant unicorn. Typical Penny.

"Shut up, Derek!" Spencer shouts back at him.

You can tell that he's actually nervous, and not just unwilling to participate, so you decide to climb up after him.

"How about we go together?" You smile at him.

"Can we do that?" He asks, clearly not believing you.

"Yeah! See how there's a plank of wood on the bottom here? There's room for both of us to stand. And then we just hold onto the rope. We'll back up to get some momentum, then right when we get to the edge, we'll hop on the rope ok. But make sure to let go before it swings back towards the rocks."

The look he's giving you says he still doesn't think this will work.

You take his hand in yours, giving it a quick squeeze. "Do you trust me?"

You see the anxiety wash away as he's overcome by comfort. "Yeah, I do actually" he smiles, squeezing your hand back.

"On three okay? One...two...three!"

Before you know it, the two of you are landing in the water. You both come up for air as he starts a splash fight with you. You're both giggling and splashing like little kids, but having the time of your life. You feel water peg you in the back of the head. You turn around to see Hotch and Rossi armed with oversized water guns, peeking out from behind the trees on the shore.

"Hey that's not fair! We're unarmed!" You shout at the two men.

"Come join our team!" Rossi yells back. You and Spencer look at each other confused. You look up to see Alex carrying four water guns out to the water toward Derek, JJ, and Penny.

You and Spencer turn to each other, each with a huge grin. "Oh it's on!" You say.

"It's so on!" he replies before you both make your way onto shore as quickly as possible. Hotch and Rossi hand you each a weapon and the war commences.

After a long fight, the team in the lake finally surrenders. Your team is the clear winner.

"Winner's get dinner first!" Rossi shouts before the four of you make a mad dash for the cabin. You grab your towel, guessing that Alex had laid it out for you, as you see the other ladies' towels laid out as well well. Rossi had the dinner on warmers, so it's all ready for you. As the four of you take your plates full of food to the dining table outside, you pass your opponents. A series of snickers and goofy faces ensues as your team teases them endlessly.

You felt so comfortable around all of them. For people with such serious jobs, they sure do know how to let loose and have fun.

A/N:

I hope everyone is still enjoying it! I know it's a slow burn but it's so cute right 🥰I plan on picking up right where we left off! Please reblog or comment if you liked this chapter! I love hearing feedback!

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] Also on AO3

Chapter 19: Martin

It shouldn’t really startle Martin when he falls asleep mid-conversation. After all, it’s been a rather traumatic twenty-four hours, both physically and emotionally. He’s in a decent amount of pain, and he needs rest to heal. He knows all of that, logically. But he’s also never been good at sleeping if there’s anyone else awake in the room, so when he wakes up in a dark room and realizes that the last thing he recalls is Tim starting—but not finishing—one of his terrible jokes, he’s not sure what surprises him more, the fact that he fell asleep or the fact that he actually feels rested.

Sort of, anyway. He’s sore all over—the painkillers have obviously run their course—but he’s not too tired to think, and he’s obviously slept deeply. He stares at the blurry void currently standing in for the ceiling and tries to figure out how he feels about that. It should be a good thing, but it’s…well, there’s no other word for it, it’s weird.

In the grand scheme of things, it’s not that weird. Not as weird as the fact that he’s been talking to a future version of himself for eight days—somehow without knowing he’s blind—or the fact that his future self and Jon’s future self seem insanely close. Not as weird as being held hostage by a woman riddled with worms or attacked in his workplace by that same woman and her moderately-sized army of parasites. Not as weird as entities fueled by fear or an apocalypse being caused by a semi-immortal man currently disguised as an ordinary pencil-pusher. It is, in fact, the ordinary kind of weird, and really, Martin shouldn’t be getting hung up on it. Nevertheless, here he is, unable to understand when he came to trust the rest of the Archival team enough that he feels safe enough to fall asleep while they’re still awake to do things to him.

He really needs therapy, something he’s known for years, but several of the reasons he needs therapy tie into why he avoids therapy and it’s just a whole mess. The only reason he hasn’t done it that doesn’t tie into yet another trauma or blow to his psyche is the fact that he really can’t afford it. He’s barely scraping by as it is, and God only knows how he’s going to manage the need to move. He’s been in the same building for eleven years and rent’s gone up twice, and it’s still cheaper than most other places. Even if he does find someplace that doesn’t cost more, he’ll have to come up with the first month’s rent and the security deposit ahead of time, and then there’s the fact that he’s going to have to replace pretty much everything he owns that he didn’t manage to gather up for his temporary stay in the Archives; Jon and Sasha came back from getting their things and informed him regretfully that Mrs. Mattson had already thrown out what was left in his old flat and rented it out again. Add in the fact that he has to make up almost half of the fees at the home his mother insisted on moving into, and he’s not going to have the spare funds for, well, anything. Let alone therapy.

He sighs heavily and tries to sit up. It’s nice of Tim to let him sleep in the recliner, but when he first wakes up, it’s a bit of a struggle. And he honestly can’t figure out how he keeps lying back, since he’s pretty sure he falls asleep still sitting up. Maybe he’s doing it in his sleep, or maybe he’s just so tired he doesn’t remember settling back. Whatever it is, he discovered yesterday that it’s hard for him to use the appropriate strength to manipulate the recliner back into an upright position. Or at least to do it quietly. The others are still asleep—as far as he knows—and he doesn’t want to disturb them. He can tell himself all he wants that they need rest, that they deserve to have their sleep uninterrupted, that it’s been a rough couple of days for them too, but if he’s being honest it cycles back to his fear of the consequences of disturbing his mother while she was resting. Nine years and he still can’t make himself turn on a light before sunrise if the door isn’t firmly shut or listen to music without headphones after four in the afternoon. He wonders if he’ll ever be free.

The handle engages suddenly and the footrest goes down with a deceptively soft thwump that rocks Martin forward abruptly. He bites back a gasp of pain and waits for the world to stop swimming.

“Martin?”

The whispered call from not far away makes him flinch. Martin looks up, apologies ready on his lips, then realizes he’s not wearing his glasses and has no idea who was talking. He fumbles for them and puts them on just as Jon steps carefully around the end of the coffee table and perches on the end of the sofa next to him.

“I heard you starting to wake up,” Jon says softly. He holds something out—a mug. “I, ah, I was making tea anyway, so I thought…”

“O-oh.” Martin blinks in surprise and reaches out carefully to take the mug. “Ah, thank you?”

Their fingers brush, and it’s all Martin can do not to drop the mug or spill it on himself. He can feel the blush rising in his cheeks. God, it’s probably visible even with no lights.

“You’re welcome. I—you do so much for us. It seemed like high time someone did something for you for a change.” Jon pauses, then adds, “I hope I got it right. I—I know I haven’t exactly asked, but it—it seemed like what I remembered from after dinner?”

Martin takes a cautious sip of the tea and nearly chokes in surprise. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

He can just make out Jon’s unfairly attractive smile before he brings his own mug to his lips. They sit in silence for a long moment, both of them seemingly lost in thought. Martin isn’t sure how much he’s actually thinking, though, beyond panicking slightly. It’s the first time he’s been alone with Jon, really, since he started living in the Archives. And after the last couple of days…he still has no idea where the two of them stand. If they’re on a friendlier footing, if they’ve found common ground, or if things are going to go back to normal once the initial shock wears off.

“What time is it?” he finally asks.

“About four in the morning. You’ve been asleep roughly nine hours.”

Martin exhales. “Christ, I had no idea I fell asleep that early.”

Jon tilts his head slightly. “Well, you’re healing. You’re likely going to do a fair amount of sleeping. We tried to keep it down.”

“I don’t mean to be an inconvenience like that,” Martin says, his stomach twisting. The idea that everyone has to be quiet because of him…

“Don’t be ridiculous, Martin, you’re not an inconvenience.” Jon sets his mug down on the table and turns to face Martin fully. “I—I know I’ve been overly critical of you over the last year. I really am sorry. I never meant to—I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

“It’s—”

“Don’t say it’s all right. It isn’t. You’ve never been anything but diligent and conscientious, you’ve always gone above and beyond, and I—” Jon exhales. “The truth is, I-I was scared. I didn’t feel…adequate. Like I wasn’t up for the task. I didn’t—I never applied for this job either. Elias picked me, and I had no idea why. I don’t have a background in library science, o-or administration or anything like that. I couldn’t have told you why he offered me the job, but…well, I’m not sure I could have said no if I’d wanted to. A-and then you turned up in my office and said Elias had appointed you, and…I honestly thought he’d sent you to keep an eye on me. To, to report back to him if I stepped out of line or didn’t do the job properly. And then Rosie gave me a copy of your CV and I saw how long you’d been with the Institute, and all your credentials—”

“Most of which were fake.”

“Which I didn’t know at the time. I—I got intimidated.” Jon gives a small laugh. “I saw someone with more experience than all three of us put together and I thought, God, he wanted this job and didn’t get it and now he’s going to be reporting back to Elias every time I step out of line. I kept putting you down on the official recordings because—I don’t know, maybe part of me was hoping it would influence things in my favor if there was ever a dispute? And…I think I was projecting a lot of my own insecurities onto you. I am deeply sorry.”

Well, Jon won’t let him say it’s all right, but…Martin swallows hard and tries to smile. “I forgive you. And I’m sorry, too. I should have told you the truth sooner, but…I don’t know. I was afraid you’d fire me.”

“Considering the first interaction we ever had was me threatening you over that dog, I’d be afraid I’d fire me too.” Jon pauses. “I wonder what would have happened if I’d actually tried.”

Martin actually doesn’t want to think about it. He looks into the depths of the mug in his hands, then sets it on the end table where his glasses were previously. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t—oh, you mean the ‘I heard you starting to wake up’ thing? I was already awake.” Jon sighs. “I honestly don’t sleep very well these days. I-it’s not just the nightmares, it’s also…the worrying. About you. All three of you, really, but—you in particular.”

“Me?” Martin’s voice is louder than he means it to be. Tim grunts from somewhere else in the room and both Martin and Jon freeze, but after a moment he makes an odd sort of snorfling sound and seems to settle back into sleep. Martin rubs a hand over his mouth, trying to be careful of the bandages.

“Why me?” he asks, remembering to whisper this time.

Jon is silent for a moment. Martin is about to apologize for having asked when he says, “I could be glib and say it’s because you were the one being stalked by Jane Prentiss, and that is part of it, but…it’s also just that it’s you. It’s not that I don’t think you can take care of yourself just as well as Tim or Sasha can. I do. It’s…I really wasn’t sure before the last couple of days why that was. I’m still not completely sure, but I think I have a bit of a better idea.”

“We worry about you, too, you know.” Martin desperately wants to ask what Jon’s idea is, but he also doesn’t want to pry. “Ask, erm, Martin Prime. I asked him what I could do to help and he said not to let you get hurt and I kind of panicked a little.”

Jon chuckles. “I suppose that is a next-to-impossible task.”

“No, I mean I panicked at the idea that you would get hurt,” Martin says. He wonders how much he can say without betraying how he feels. The Primes are close friends, that much is obvious, but he and Jon aren’t anywhere near that point and he doesn’t want to ruin his chances of even that by blurting out that he’s fallen for his boss like a ton of bricks. This is also probably not the time to bring it up. They’re all a bit…emotionally compromised right now, and he’s still not sure what’s going to happen when the adrenaline of the last two days wears off. Even if Jon’s just said he worries about Martin. Fleetingly, he wonders if Martin Prime ever told Jon Prime how he felt and when, and he wishes it was a question he thought to ask while they had some time alone in the last week. “I-I mean, that was my biggest worry when I realized Jane Prentiss had followed me home, you know? I wasn’t just worried about what she’d do to me. I was worried she might…follow me to the Archives. Come after one of you, but especially you. A-and then when she texted you after I made my statement…” He sighs. “It’s stupid. I know it’s stupid. But there was a part of me thinking that if I needed to stay in the Archives, maybe the rest of you should have too, you know?”

“No, you’re—you’re not wrong. Truthfully, that was one of the things that I kept obsessing over last night,” Jon confesses in a low voice. “When I saw—when I realized—” He breaks off and looks away. “All I could think was that something had happened, that you could be hurt, and that you’d been alone and—God, I should have insisted we all stay. Or that you come stay with one of us from the outset. Although in retrospect…I’m not certain what would have happened if your counterpart had been alone in the Archives at the time. Not that I knew he was there, but…”

“Yeah,” Martin says quietly. He swallows against the sudden, unexpected lump in his throat. “I’m—I’m still glad you weren’t there, though. I-I was glad when it happened, and I was even more glad when I saw Jon Prime and…honestly, Jon, this sucks. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Least of all you. O-or Tim,” he adds hastily. “Or Sasha, but, I mean, she didn’t…not in their timeline, anyway.”

“No, but…that doesn’t mean we wanted you to have to get hurt, either,” Jon says. “It’s not exactly a fair trade.” He looks up at Martin. “A-are you in pain? Do you need your painkillers?”

The answer is yes, but Martin fights the urge to nod. “They, ah, they have to be taken with food. It’s—it’s not as bad as it was yesterday, at least.”

“Hold on. I think I can help with that.”

“Jon—” Martin begins, but it’s too late. Jon has already stood up from the sofa and headed in the direction of the kitchen.

Martin swears under his breath in Polish, then manages to get to his feet without hurting himself. He carefully picks up both mugs of tea and follows Jon, a bit more slowly. Partly it’s the pain, partly it’s force of habit. He doesn’t know where the joists or creaky floorboards might be, and it’s still early, he can’t risk waking people up because he’s walking too loudly. He’s already had one close call too many tonight.

He makes it to the kitchen. Jon is messing about with something, using the night-light mounted above the sink to see by. Martin can’t see what he’s doing. He sets the mugs down carefully on the table and asks, “What are you doing?”

Jon jumps and whirls around, brandishing a butter knife in one hand. He relaxes. “Martin—I didn’t hear you come in. I—I just thought—” He gestures at the counter. “It’s not much, but I thought I’d make you a sandwich at least. Get something in your stomach so you can take the pills.”

“You really don’t have to do that,” Martin protests, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I-I can wait until—”

“I’m sure you can, but there’s no reason you should,” Jon says briskly. “It’s been enough time that you’re certainly able to take your painkillers, and you need them, so why wait and make yourself feel worse?”

There’s a certain amount of logic in that, Martin has to admit. “I just…don’t want to be a bother.”

Jon places a sandwich in front of him firmly and lays a hand on his arm. “Martin,” he says sincerely, “the last thing you are is a bother. Sit down and eat. I’ll be right back.”

He heads out of the kitchen, leaving Martin incredibly confused and slightly embarrassed.

Lacking any better option, he sits down to eat the sandwich Jon has made for him. He doesn’t know what to expect, but it’s certainly not what he bites into. The first taste of it on his tongue almost makes him cry, and he closes his eyes, savoring it.

He hears footsteps and swallows hastily, opening his eyes as Jon comes back into the room. He sets the pill bottle next to Martin’s elbow, then sits down next to him and picks up his mug of tea. “Is it all right?”

“It’s perfect,” Martin says before he thinks it through and almost swallows his tongue. Oh, well, no taking it back now—best to press forward. “I didn’t know Tim ate cherry preserves.”

“I don’t think he does. He teased me a bit about being ‘elitist’ the first time he saw me eating them.”

Martin stops mid-chew and definitely swallows a too-solid bite. It takes him a second before he’s able to speak. “You like them, too?”

Jon’s eyes widen. “Too? I—I mean, obviously you like them, you’re eating the sandwich—God, I didn’t even think to ask, I just assumed…”

“No, it’s—I’ve always liked them,” Martin says. “My—my granddad had a couple cherry trees in his backyard. He used to make preserves every year, and…I dunno. They just remind me of visiting him.” He takes another bite of the sandwich.

Jon nods thoughtfully. “I’ve always been fond of cherry preserves. Well, cherry anything, actually. My grandmother used to bake cherry pies on my birthday in lieu of a cake.”

Martin smiles. “Granddad always did that for me, too.”

“I’ll remember that for next year.” Jon smiles, too.

For a few minutes, there’s silence as Martin finishes the sandwich. When the last bite is gone, Jon takes the plate and gets up to wash it while Martin struggles for a moment to get the cap off the pill vial and shake out a painkiller. The moment feels oddly…domestic. Calm. Cosy. Martin isn’t sure what to do with it, but he decides to try and let himself enjoy it. It’s never worked for him before, but he can give it a shot.

Finally, Jon sits back down next to him. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” It’s not just the painkiller, which probably hasn’t actually started to work yet. It’s the tea, and the sandwich, and Jon being nice. He tries to figure out how to articulate it, then finally says, “It’s the first time in I don’t know how long that I don’t feel afraid.”

Jon exhales. “I know the feeling. I mean—I know I should be. The world is objectively terrifying, and learning what we learned today made that exponentially worse. But…this right here? I’m definitely calmer and more relaxed than I’ve been since I took the Archivist job.”

Something in Martin’s chest warms at the comment. It probably isn’t meant like that, but it’s nice to hear he’s not making Jon stressed by his mere presence, at least. And, hey, he can dream. All he says, though, is, “’S nice.”

“It is.” Jon takes a sip of his tea and stares into it for a moment, then snorts softly and shakes his head.

“What?”

“It’s just…something my counterpart said. While we were talking outside. I hadn’t thought about it before, but…he’s right.” Jon looks up. “He told me he hasn’t finished a cup of tea in years that—that his Martin hasn’t made for him. It just occurred to me that I’m the same way. Even when…those two weeks you weren’t in the office? When Jane Prentiss was—” He swallows hard. “I just realized that I would brew myself a cup of tea and it would just…sit on my desk and get cold. I never managed to drink more than half of it. I suppose it just tastes better when you make it.”

Martin doesn’t know quite how to respond to that. “You make tea just fine. This is perfect.”

Jon hums noncommittally. He seems to be debating with himself, then sighs. “You’re far more observant than I am at times…you know they’re together, right?”

Martin’s brain pulls up short. “Wait, what?”

“Our…counterparts. The Primes. They’re—they love each other. He told me that when I asked him, and…God, in retrospect, it’s so obvious. I-I suppose I just didn’t see it.” Jon looks suddenly nervous as he scans Martin’s face. “You’re more…in tune with that sort of thing than I. You did know, didn’t you?”

“N-no,” Martin manages to stammer out. Oh, God, he can feel his cheeks heating up. Jon’s right, though, in retrospect it’s obvious. He thinks about all the little interactions the Primes have had with one another, the way they both fuss over each other, the way they seem to know what the other is thinking. The lighthearted, affectionate banter, the near-constant physical contact. Jon Prime rubbing his thumb over Martin Prime’s knuckles to calm himself when he gets overwhelmed, Martin Prime reaching for Jon Prime instinctively when he needs a hand up.

Then, suddenly, he remembers the way Martin Prime spoke about the person who was coming back to meet him, when he assured Martin that if they’ve come through somewhere else, they’re looking for me. Logically, he knows now that person was Jon Prime, but he somehow didn’t make the connection between the two. It’s as if his brain saw Jon Prime walk in and instantly erased every conclusion that conversation made him come to. It didn’t occur to him, at the time, that Jon would even bother to bring him back in time with him, let alone be looking for him. Now he takes a mental step back, re-evaluates every moment between the Primes in light of that conversation, and wants to smack himself on the forehead for being an idiot.

“You’re right, though. I really should have figured that out sooner,” he murmurs. “God knows I had enough information to put it together. Guess I just assumed there couldn’t possibly be a universe where I—”

He snaps off the words as quickly as he can. Oh, God, he really almost said it out loud. Almost let Jon know how he feels. He’s not stupid, the Primes have a lot more history between them than he and Jon do, and he doesn’t doubt for a minute that they haven’t been together long, relatively speaking. Probably only since Jon Prime rescued Martin Prime from the Lonely. The circumstances that led them to this point are ones they’re trying to undo, and Martin seriously doubts he and Jon will ever get to that point. It’s best if he tries to let this thing die now and be happy for his counterpart getting this much.

Jon looks like he wants to ask him a question, but doesn’t. Instead, he says quietly, “They weren’t going to tell you. Us, I suppose, but…I asked him. How he felt about his Martin. Mostly because I was trying to figure out how I felt about you, and I thought knowing his thoughts would help untangle mine.”

Martin has to try twice before he can get the words out. “Did it?”

Jon gives a small, humorless laugh. “Not really. In truth, it just made things more confusing. I…” He rubs his thumb against the knuckle of his index finger, the same nervous tic Jon Prime uses when he doesn’t have Martin Prime’s hand to hold. “I-I got scared when I arrived at the Institute the other night. I was…there was all that chaos, all those lights and sirens and activity, and—and I realized you weren’t in the crowd. All I could think of was that there’d been a fire and you hadn’t woken in time, or that you’d been trapped and been…burned or breathed in too much of the CO2 or something. I tried to—they wouldn’t let me in after you. Obviously. That makes perfect sense, but…at the time, all I could think of was that you were in there a-and I needed to get to you, that I needed to know you were safe. I was staring at the idea of a world without you and I couldn’t face it. And then…Elias told me Tim and Sasha were down there, and then mentioned Jane Prentiss, and it all got worse and…I don’t know, Martin, I’m rambling. But Tim’s right. I was—I must’ve shouted down half a dozen officials trying to get one of them to tell me where you were, how you were, to—to let me see you. Everyone kept saying you were going to be all right, but I knew I wouldn’t believe it until I saw you.”

“I—I mean, if it had been Sasha or Tim—” Martin begins.

“I don’t know how I would have reacted if it had been them who was hurt. I was definitely worried about them, but…I don’t know.” Jon takes a deep breath. “I’ll be honest. I still don’t really know how I feel. I—I do care about you. I worry about you, I want you to be safe. Beyond that, I—I’m afraid I don’t know.” He manages a small, slightly roguish smile. “I don’t suppose you know how you feel.”

“Oh, Christ,” Martin practically whines. This is not how he wanted any of this to come out, and he doesn’t know if he should say it.

Then it occurs to him that Jon didn’t ask. Jon, who has just learned that he’s developing the ability to force people to answer his questions, and who is probably more likely to do it when he’s tired or stressed out, deliberately avoided actually asking a question. It’s a simple statement. He’s giving Martin permission to not say a word if he doesn’t want to.

Which…actually, weirdly, makes him want to.

He takes a deep breath. “O-okay. The truth is…I’ve kind of had a crush on you for a while. I wasn’t going to say anything, because it’s—I mean, I didn’t want to make things weird, a-and I know you—I was just trying for ‘he doesn’t think I’m a complete idiot’ for a while there. I also thought it was just a stupid workplace crush, and I was kind of hoping it would eventually go away on its own. It didn’t. Ever since I started living in the Archives, it’s just got worse. I guess that’s why I didn’t realize how the Primes felt about each other. I kind of thought I was projecting, o-or seeing what I wanted to see, maybe? I don’t know. But I do worry, and I do…I do care.”

“That’s not why you went back to Carlos Vittery’s apartment, is it?” Jon’s voice is so soft Martin almost doesn’t hear it, but his eyes are worried. “Because you thought I…?”

“No,” Martin assures him. “No, I—you know, I know I said I was trying to ‘make sure I’d done my due diligence’ and all that, but what was behind that was that I’d been…I felt pressured  to go back. Like a nagging, persistent headache. I get it all the time, really, when I’m doing research. Remember when you sent me to track down that…that Angela woman? For the—”

“The man who was falling to pieces. I remember.”

“I know you got exasperated with me, but I literally couldn’t stop until I’d talked to every Angela I could find. I’d think ‘well, I’m not going to find her, I’m going back to the Institute now,’ but I’d get this blinding headache and it wouldn’t go away until I went ‘okay, just one more.’ It’s only got worse as time goes on. So no, I didn’t…get myself into this mess because I was trying to impress you or whatever.” Martin can’t help the small, nervous chuckle that escapes him. “’Course, if it did impress you, I wouldn’t complain.”

“What impressed me was that you kept your head well enough to survive and get back to your apartment, never mind the Institute,” Jon says warmly. “If it were me, I’d likely have done something stupid like go back for my phone when I realized I’d dropped it.” He sighs. “I—I don’t want to make things awkward. But I also don’t want to…promise anything.”

“I don’t expect anything, Jon.” Martin learned a long time ago not to expect anything. As far as he’s concerned, the phrase good things come to those who wait is inapplicable. In his case, it’s more like good things come to those who aren’t you. He has friends, in Tim and Sasha at least. That’s more than he probably deserves.

Jon studies him for a moment, then smiles slightly and holds out his hand. “How about I apologize for being such an ass to you, and we start with friends and see where it goes from there?”

This is the last thing Martin would have ever anticipated, but he’s certainly not going to object. He smiles in reply and takes Jon’s hand. “Deal.”

They shake on it—very gently, Jon is careful of the healing wounds on Martin’s hands—and then sit back. Jon studies Martin. “Did they tell you how long you’ll need to wear the bandages?”

“Until things stop bleeding when I take them off?” Martin shrugs. “Hopefully not too long. Some of them are…deeper than others. I’m supposed to make an appointment with my regular doctor for a follow-up in a couple of weeks.”

“We’ll make sure you get there safely,” Jon promises. He picks up his mug and salutes Martin with it. “After all, what are friends for?”

Martin grins, feeling more relaxed than he’s felt in a while, and salutes Jon back. “What indeed?”

[shannygoatgruff]

Talk to Me

Stay Safe, Stay Home Writing Challenge - Prompt #16 (Call me if you need anything)

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Modern Ivar x OC

Warning: Language, sexual innuendo, insecurity

Rating: M

Chapter 1 || Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Sitting in Terminal 19, Ivar wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through this entire vacation without killing Hvitserk. 

From the car to their current spot, they argued, non-stop. First, Ivar didn’t want Hvitserk's with his leg braces through airport security. Then, they argued because Hvitserk wanted Ivar to use a wheelchair because it was faster. But, Ivar didn’t want to use a wheelchair; he could walk. He had his braces had brought both of his forearm crutches. It would take him a bit longer, but he could get to the terminal on his own. After calling Ivar a spoiled dick-wad, Hvitserk then insisted that they use the airport shuttle service to get to the terminal. He thought it was only fair since he was the one that had to lug around their carry-on bags. Ivar just called Hvitserk a lazy asshole as he listened to his brother curse at him as they walked to the terminal. 

As soon as they sat down Hvitserk wanted to get food. All Ivar did was ask why they didn’t stop on their way to the terminal? He was hungry, too, but now he was tired and needed to rest. This particular disagreement turned into an actual slap boxing match where Hvitserk got the last sucker punch in on Ivar’s bicep and ran away from where they were sitting.

Telling his older brother that he wished he'd get herpes, Ivar pulled out his vibrating phone. “Hallo, for Ivar.”

Just hearing his deep, yet gentle voice with that Norse accent, did something to her every time. She couldn’t tell Norweigan from Swedish from Icelandic from Dutch – it was all Scandinavian to her. The accent was just sexy as hell. “Hey.” Cash bit her lip, as she folded her legs under her on the floor at the Munich International Airport. “I made it to Munich. My next flight leaves in 2 hours.”  

“I’m sorry,” Ivar put his hand over his phone and spoke in Norweigan to Hvitserk before drawing back his fist in order to hit his brother if he didn’t get away from him. “Did you have a good flight?” He was relieved that she did. “I just made it to the airport. My flight is leaving in about 1 hour. It should take me about 2 hour, 20 minutes to reach Vienna.”   

“So, we’re going to see each other in a few hours, huh?” Cash could feel her stomach drop at the thought. Part of her wanted to go up to that ticket counter and change her return flight ticket. She wanted to hop on the first thing heading back to Baltimore. But another part of her, the part that wanted to see if this thing, whatever it was, could really be something.  

Ubbe is right. I have to tell her.  “Yeah, just a few hours. Do you know what time you want to meet tonight? Our hotels are just a few streets away.”  

“Um, I don’t have any idea how long it will take me to get through Customs when I get to Vienna.” She picked at the lent on her PINK sweatpants and thought. “Plus, I’ve been traveling overnight and haven’t slept at all. I’m exhausted – I may try to take a quick nap.”

“Okay.” Ivar was a little disappointed because he wanted to see her right away, but it at least bought him a little time. “But, you know if you sleep when you get in, you will never adjust to the local time. It is best to stay awake through it all. Besides, I make a really comfy pillow.” He held his breath for a second, trying to find the words to tell her about his condition. Instead, different words came tumbling out of his mouth, “I cannot wait to see your face.”

She chuckled nervously at that statement. Oh, that. Did he have to bring that up again? The last time they talked about exchanging photos, she ended up sending him a bunch of avatars. It wasn’t that she was afraid to show him what she looked like, but what if her mother was right and he ended up being some sort of homicidal maniac? She didn’t want to give him a photo to post on the wall of his creepy den of debauchery to jerk off to.  

What if he didn't like the things about her that she was already insecure about? She was short – only 5’3” and skinny. No matter what she tried, she couldn’t gain weight where it counted. She wasn’t sure what happened but the chests, hips, and butts that all of the women on her mother’s side of the family were blessed with, those genes skipped her completely. Her neck was too thin and it made her head look big. And though she loved her curly hair, it was big, too. Not that easily tamed curly hair that looked good on commercials, either. We’re talking totally unruly big curls on a short, skinny girl, with a big head, big curly hair. 

There were probably only like 3 black people in all of Norway, to begin with. What if Ivar didn’t appreciate all of her melanin? She was sure he knew she was black from her avatar, but they had never really talked about their races or ethnicities before. “I still don’t know what you look either. But, I think it makes meeting a complete stranger in a different country much more romantic when you don’t know who you’re looking for, don’t you?”

Over the last six months, he had been the one reluctantly to video chat with her. He was so afraid that she would see his braces or crutches. It was just better if they kept it to calls and messages. Plus, there was something really exciting about getting to know her and having her like him without the pity. God knows he had enough pity dates courtesy of his older brothers. “Not so much for me. I’m thinking, maybe we should exchange photos now.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure Hvitserk wasn’t nearby. “I want to look at you while I am on the plane.” 

This was only ever supposed to be an online friendship. All Cash did was reply to a comment he’d left on a YouTube vlog they both subscribed to. Somehow that turned into them emailing and chatting. Then that turned into texting and talking on the phone, and late nights and giggling in the dark. The next thing she knew, six months later, she was flying to Vienna to meet him. “Does it make sense that I’m nervous for you to see me?”

 “Why? I already think you are beautiful.” He said quietly.

Oh lord, I’m gonna fuck this boy.  She rubbed her brows and shook her head at the thought. Cash had tried so hard not to get caught up, but there was such sincerity in his voice. “Okay. I’m going to send you three pictures. No matter what you think, don’t say anything. That way, if I’m not your type, then there are no hard feelings. We can just have a great time and hang out as friends.”

“You know that is not going to happen. You are so much more than my friend." He hoped he could still be this smooth in person, "But, I’ll play along. I will send you some pictures too and you will not comment, either.”

“Okay, I’ll call you back in a few minutes. I have to look through my phone to find somewhere I don’t look crazy.”  

It took Ivar about 30 seconds to choose the pictures to send to her. Most of them were from the chest up or showed him sitting, so he was pretty confident that she wouldn't notice his affliction. He hit the send button and anxiously awaited her pictures in return.

When her phone pinged she closed her eyes. Did she want to open them?  Okay, he is not going to look like Eric Northman, so don’t be disappointed.  Why she had it in her mind that he was going to be some 6’6” blond vampire-Adonis like Alexander Skarsgård, was beyond her. 

But, didn’t all Scandinavian men have that look to them? Sexy, long, lanky, blonds, with sad blue eyes that were slightly darker around the sockets and looked like they moonlighted as vampires. That’s what secretly hoped that Ivar looked like. A sexy blond vampire – she could be Tara and he could Eric…Girl, get yourself together. This is not True Blood.  She shouldn’t have binge-watched the show on her flight.

When she opened her eyes, her breath caught in her throat. He didn’t look like Alexander Skarsgård, but this tasty morsel here… 

Wait, what was she thinking? The only thing she could think to do was forward the pictures to her bestie, Glenn, with the following message:

Biiiiitch...Call Catfish immediately!  This can’t be Ivar!!!!!

She didn’t care that it was 4am back home.  This was an emergency.

 As she waited for Glenn to respond, she found herself almost regretting having sent him real pictures of herself. Now he knew what she looked like. If he was catfishing her, he was going to have a field day. But, if he wasn’t, then he was going to be mighty disappointed.  

Their beauty ratios didn’t match. She had this theory on the attractiveness of couples and had broken them down into ratios of beauty: high:high; low:low; high:low; equally yoked. The only couples that could stand the test of time were those that were equally yoked. 

Two extremely beautiful people were destined to fail, (ie. Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt.) One would think that Nick & Priyanka Jonas would have taken the hint from their former beautiful couple predecessors. Cash gave them a good 10 years before they would crash and burn. They were just too pretty. Mirrors were destined to turn themselves inside out when they walked by. The world just wasn’t ready for all that sexy. 

On the flip side of that coin, two extremely unattractive people wouldn’t last long, either. Take her cousin Maq and his wife Crystal, for example. One day, they would both wake up and be sickened, because they would take a good look at one another and realize that might doom the world by having a baby. If they had a child with their collective genes, the planets might malign...stars might blink out of existence. It could be the end of the world as Cash knew it.

Then you had the high:low ratio couples. Those were the people where one person was really attractive and the other was, not so much…a la Jay-Z and Beyoncé. Yeah, they made cute kids, but Cash was sure one of them (and she was sure it wasn’t Beyoncé) probably always felt like the ugly duckling in that relationship.

If this was truly Ivar, they weren’t equally yoked. She wasn’t as jaw-droppingly sexy as he was. Granted, she thought she was pretty damn cute, but not like him. She wouldn’t put them on them Jay-Z: Beyoncé scale, but the scales of beauty were slightly tipped in his favor.  

What the fuck was she thinking? Here she had just flown to another continent to meet a guy she didn’t know from Adam, only to be set up by him pretending to be someone else. There was no way on God’s green earth that this sexy specimen of man was the guy she had been talking to for the last six months. If it was, he either had a girlfriend, 2 wives in 3 countries, 35 children, was a sadist, serial killer, drunk, drug addict, or he was on the run from Interpol, or all of the above. Cash’s life didn’t work that way.   

Men like him didn’t happen to her. Not without all the fine print. 

When Ivar’s phone chimed, he couldn’t hit the icon fast enough to see the photos Cash had sent him. He had wondered for so long what she looked like, no matter what it was she was going to be beautiful. He was sure of it. Even if Hvitserk liked to joke that she was probably looked like Floki in drag.

“What is that dumb look on your face?” Hvitserk handed Ivar his sandwich wrap and coffee, before sitting down to peel back the wrapper on his own food. He eyed his brother suspiciously when he shook his head.

Without making a sound, he snatched the phone out of the younger man’s hand and looked at the screen. “Wow…who is…Is this who you’re going to meet?” Hvitserk’s smile was huge and his chest swelled with pride for his little brother. “Well done,” his voice raising an octave in his approval. He couldn’t resist nudging Ivar with his elbow a few times. “You are finally gonna get laid,” he laughed, taking a big bite of his wrap ignoring the bits of lettuce falling on his lap.

Why was Hvitserk on this trip? More importantly, why couldn’t Ivar have been born an only child? There was no way he was going to get to know Cash better or get any alone time with her with him around. Ivar thought about killing him, but then he would have to explain it to his remaining brothers at home. “I have had sex before, Hvitserk.”

“Yeah, but if you haven’t done it in over 3 years, I think you go back to being a virgin,” Hvitserk responded with a mouth full of food. “I think I read that somewhere.” Hvitserk shook his wrap in Ivar’s direction, as he tried to recall the statistics.  

Hvitserk wasn’t going to go into what Ubbe had told him about Ivar’s ill-fated sex life. Ivar’s confession to Ubbe was supposed to be in confidence. But of course with Ubbe and Hvitserk being best friends, naturally, Ubbe shared their youngest brother’s woes, and then Hvitserk told Björn. So now they all knew about Ivar’s impotence.

Poor Ivar, they’d all thought. They all knew that when he tried to lose his virginity as a teenager, he was too nervous to "rise to the occasion". So, when the moment did finally happen, with his last girlfriend that they all lovingly (hated) referred to as, ‘that stuck up bitch’ Freydis, he was unable to reach a climax. And what did his ever so beautiful and loving (bitch) girlfriend, Freydis, do to try to help him in his situation? She stopped having sex with him, that’s what.  

Ivar had begged Ubbe to take him to the urologist, fearing that his disease was the cause of him not being able to sæd, or whatever the term was for it in English. But, the doctor told him that stress and anxiety were most likely the causes of his impotence and he needed to relax – maybe consider seeing a therapist. But, he wasn’t crazy – he didn’t need a shrink.  

What he needed was to get rid of his mounting case of blue balls that had him on edge 24/7.

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[orange-waterfalls]

Sleeping Beauty

Darkiplier x Wilford Warfstache

@grey-b0y ty for the request!(im sorry it took so long lol)

A/N: ight so. first time doin a ship. literally the best thing ive ever written. may like to do more. uhhhh Dark being an overworked bastard. Wilford being the caring boyf that he would be. Disney movies. If you couldn't already tell. Uhhhhh finished this in an hour, re-read it, may actually be the best thing I've ever made I'm ngl. Dark may be a bit OOC, but that's just cause he's a lil bit tired. uhhhhh yeah. Enjoy!

Requests are open

--

Dark let out a quiet sigh as he opened the door to his and Wilford’s house. He threw his suit jacket to the side with absolutely no fucks to give about where it landed. He stumbled through the house until he eventually landed in his office, plopping down in his chair and leaning back with a groan.

He had so much work he still had left to do, and it was already 9:00. He was so, so, so very tired. The egos had been especially annoying that week, all having the stupidest comments during meetings and refusing to shut up once they got started. Dark had noticed Wilford gave him a “look” whenever he saw the entity annoyed or angry. He didn’t want Wilford to worry, so he always brushed it off. In hindsight, it might have been a good idea to let Wil help him. They were in a relationship, after all. People are supposed to help those that they love. Dark never gave Wil much of a chance to do that. He felt bad for it at times.

Dark rubbed the bridge of his nose and yawned. He shook his head and cracked his neck and flexed his hands, trying to make himself more awake. “Trying” being the keyword here. He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out his laptop and computer mouse. He opened the laptop and opened a document of everything he was supposed to schedule, approve, and deny. He went through everything, the blue light illuminating his pale face, the bags under his eyes looking very prominent. Any person with eyesight and half a brain could see he was sleep-deprived and overworked.

He heard a noise come from somewhere in the house. He stopped clicking and raised his head a bit, trying to listen. Nothing else came. He shrugged lightly. He was probably just imagining things…

Probably…

Another noise. A THUMP. Louder this time. He took his hand away from the mouse and leaned back in his chair, watching the closed door of the office. He stared at it, waiting for another noise to show up.

The sound of shattered glass and Wilford cursing caused Dark to jump up out of his chair. He threw the door open and ran to the source of the noise.

“Wil!” He called as he stopped in the living room. The panicked look on his face died down into indifference and mild annoyance.

Wilford was laying on his back in the middle of the room, margarita glass in hand, with the window shattered and shards of glass surrounding him. He turned to Dark and smiled.

“Good evening, pumpkin!” He greeted joyfully. Dark exhaled deeply and walked over to Wilford. He had no problem with the glass because his shoes were still on. Wilford, apparently having some sort of supervision when it came to Dark, noticed this small fact. “Why do you have your shoes on? When did you get home?” Dark, ignoring the question, pulled Wilford to his feet.

“Where’s your key?” He asked, exasperated.

“Now, hold on. I asked you first. It’s not fair that I have to answer questions when you haven’t answered mine!” The reporter pouted. Dark rolled his eyes.

“Stuck in a meeting. Stuck in traffic. Got home a couple of minutes ago,” He sighed, “Where is your key, Wil?” Wilford looked around for a moment before his eyes landed on a clock. He let out an exaggerated gasp.

“Dark! It’s so late! You must be exhausted!” He said, cupping Dark’s face in his hands. He can’t help from melting into the touch of his favorite person.

“No, no, I’m fine, really,” Dark mumbled, obviously lying. Wilford frowned.

“Come along now, darling, you know you can’t lie to me,” He said, stepping a bit closer to him. He looked into Dark’s eyes while the entity avoided eye contact. Wilford huffed before his eyebrows raised and a smile formed on his lips. Dark noticed and furrowed his eyebrows

“What?” He asked, slightly worried. Wilford grabbed his hand and led him to their bedroom. Dark sighed.

“Wil, I don’t-” He was cut off by a T-shirt being thrown at his face. Dark, being extremely tired, didn’t process what had happened until he looked down and saw the shirt. He looked back up at Wilford, squinting a bit. Wilford had somehow already changed. He was wearing pink shorts and a white shirt with a rainbow on the front. Dark glanced down at the shirt and raised an eyebrow. Wilford cleared his throat.

“My eyes are up here, Darky-poo,” He teased. Dark would have blushed if he were less proud. Would have.

Dark rolled his eyes and picked up the shirt, ushering Wilford out. God knows how long into their relationship and Dark still refused to change in front of his boyfriend. Wilford shook his head and chuckled, heading into the kitchen.

--

He made two bowls of popcorn, knowing for a fact he would scarf down his in a matter of minutes. He walked into the living room. He heard creaking and looked back to see Dark walk in after him. The pale entity wore black boxers and the grey shirt that was thrown at him. Wilford smiled.

“What took so long, darling?” He asked sweetly. Dark scoffed at the third pet name that night.

“Resting my eyes,” he claimed. Wilford hummed, knowing it was a lie. He wouldn’t push it, though. Dark sighed. “What are we doing, Wil?”

“Watching Disney movies. Only the musicals, though,” Dark groaned.

“Wil-”

“Listen,” Wilford said, suddenly sounding serious. Dark closed his mouth. “I know you won’t listen to me when I tell you to rest. So, if you’re gonna stay awake, you might as well do something vaguely fun, right?” Dark smiled softly.

This person. This person loved him. This person cared about him more than anyone else did. And this person that cared about him was trying to help. Dark sighed, but not in an exasperated way. In an “I really can’t argue because a) I have nothing to argue and b) I kinda sorta really don’t wanna argue but I still wanna act like I do” kinda way. He shuffled his way over to the couch and plopped down next to Wilford, scooting as close to him as possible. Wilford grinned and settled himself.

“But do we have to do all of them?” Dark complained. Wilford stroked his mustache a bit.

“Well, no, but we gotta start somewhere.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you get to tell me which year to start from.”

“Last year.” That earned a small glare from Wilford. “Fine, fine… uh… 19...8...9?”

“The Little Mermaid it is!” Wilford said excitedly.

“Wait, you know all the years?”

“Of course I do! What do you think I am? Some sort of commoner?!” Dark slowly blinked at that wreck of a sentence and turned back to the TV screen. Wilford put an arm around Dark, who snuggled into the touch. Then, Wilford hit the play button on his remote.

--

Two movies later, Dark was out cold. They’d barely gotten through a third of “Newsies” before Wilford looked over and saw the entity sleeping. Wilford had been mindful enough to keep his singing voice to a minimum, and so Dark hadn’t woken up. Wilford wasn’t even sure how long he’d been asleep. When did he last look? Halfway through “Beauty and the Beast?” Aw, too bad. 30 more minutes and they would’ve started on “Aladdin”! Wilford shrugged and paused the film.

He gently shifted in his spot and lifted Dark into his arms. He slowly carried the “Sleeping Beauty”(shut up I’m funny) to their room. He gently laid Dark down on the bed, covering him with the blankets. Dark almost instantly cuddled into them. Wilford bit his lip as he stared down at his lover. Well, since they didn’t watch Sleeping Beauty…

Wilford gently leaned down and brushed a small curl out of Dark’s face. He gazed at his sleeping figure in admiration before leaning down further to connect their lips in a small kiss. Very small, more of a peck than a “kiss” kiss, but still. Dark slowly opened his eyes and blinked a few times as Wilford pulled away.

“Aw, Dark,” Wilford whispered, “I woke you with true love’s kiss!”

“You woke me, period,” Dark grumbled but stretched out his arms, tempting Wilford to go to bed.

Wilford climbed in next to Dark, spooning him. He held his arms tight around his partner’s torso, burying his nose into the entity’s hair and inhaling deeply.

“What are you doing?” Dark almost chuckled. Wilford smiled.

“I like your smell…”

“Oh?” Dark twisted around to look at Wilford. “And what do I smell like?”

“Home…” Wilford answered with a lovestruck look on his face. He could’ve sworn he saw a blush before getting hit in the face with a pillow. He laughed as Dark turned back around.

“You are the cheesiest person in the galaxy,” Dark said. Wilford’s lips curled into a grin as he snuggled up behind Dark again.

“Maybe…” He answered. Both of them sighed contently. “I love you…”

“I love you too...” Dark mumbled, still very tired, “Goodnight, Wil.” Wilford smiled as he tightened his grip ever-so-slightly.

“Good night, Sleeping Beauty…”

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 42 of 83 : World of Sea

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 42 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

///////////////////////

Chapter 14: Pursuit

Kurin awoke with a start.  She could feel the unmistakable roll and pitch of a ship underway.  She knew at once that it was not the Longin. Overhead she could see triangular braced beams that she knew from her tours of the Dark Dragon.  She tried to get up.  A hand on her chest, gentle, but irresistibly strong, prevented.

Sula leaned over her, smiling to see her awake.  “To answer what you have not yet asked, yes, you are on the Dark Dragon.  Yes, we are underway.  No, you were not tired out.  We almost lost you to Ord poisoning, and had to bring you with us, because we have the only antidote supplies.”

“Ord?” Kurin asked in a small voice, “Those are rare, and they have big white spines.  I’d have known, if I got anywhere near one of those.”

Grimly, Sula said, “It was Ord.  The spine was pricked into your lunch.  As a spine puncture, Ord is sudden death.  In food, Ord is a slow death. From skin contact, it is somewhere between the two.  As a smoke or mist, it is a choking death, coughing blood.  We, on the Dark Dragon and the Soaring Bird, know all too well what the symptoms are.”

“Is the Gathering over?  Where is the Longin?  Where are my friends?” Kurin’s voice rose as she asked what she most feared to find.  She could feel the long waves telling her that they were far from seas that she knew, sailing into waters that she had only read about, and swiftly going further.

“The Gathering, at least part of it, is awaiting our return,” said Sula reassuringly.  “We are on a two day search sweep, seeking the Grandalor.  If we find her, we are to return her to the Gathering Anchorage, by force, if we must.”

Kurin tried to drag the covers up as if from a chill, and suspecting the answer, asked, “Why are we hunting the Grandalor?  They’re not a nice ship, and always try to cheat in small ways, but I’ve never known them to actually break any laws.”

“They have now,” Sula leveled a finger at a bunk across from Kurin’s, where a young sailor was gasping weakly, lips and fingernails blue, blood at the corner of his mouth.  “Do you know him?  He came to us with news of the plot, and the spine in his shirt pocket.  He was able to tell us enough to prove the Grandalor’s guilt, before he was too far gone.  Doctor Worran gave him all of the antidote that his system can take.  We don’t know if he will live.  The Ord got to his lungs.”

“His name is Garfin.  He’s from the Grython.  I’ve never heard his clan name.”  Kurin tried to get up and was gently pushed back into the bunk again.

“I fear that you will be at least one, and maybe two, more days before you are out of that bunk for any reason.  I have been Ord poisoned too, in the wars.  I know that you are far weaker than you feel. Now, the good Doctor is coming with food, and you must eat it all, even if you don’t like some of it.  It is part of the treatment.”

Actually, Kurin liked the food quite well, and needed no encouragement to eat it all.  She did need help.  Her chopsticks would not stay in her grip.  As soon as she tried to grip anything, the sticks would loosen and the food would fall.  Sula fed her with a spoon and applauded her appetite.  

Sula huddled with Doctor Worran for a few minutes and went out.  Ten minutes later, she was back.  “Bless the good Doctor, Kurin.  She has agreed that, as long as you behave, and stay in bed, that you can have your rest in more interesting circumstances.”

Sula effortlessly scooped up Kurin, blankets and all, and strode out of the sickbay.  A ladder, negotiated one-handed, brought them to the deck.  Sula carried Kurin forward toward her cabin under the bridge, but bypassed it and carried Kurin up a steep staircase onto the bridge, where a cot was waiting.

The bridge was manned by a pair of lookouts, sitting on the roof, their feet dangling through hatches.  A man stood before a device that Kurin had never seen before.  It resembled, in some ways, the inside of a big running block for rigging but it was rimmed about with handles shaped like the large ends of marlin spikes.  At the center, it was fastened to a large post rising from the deck.  Along the back wall of the bridge was a bank of capped tubes that Kurin could not guess the use of.  Another man was just rolling a complicated device like two bowls out to a walkway across the front of the bridge.

Kurin, as boat-builder who also made tools, rigging parts and instruments, recognized that the upper bowl was in a gimbal mount. A weight was fastened to the bottom of the upper bowl, so that it hung down into the lower one.  Water in the lower bowl would act as a damper allowing the upper bowl to move freely in order to stay level.  A circular piece, with a small hole in it, hung over the top of the upper bowl.  

From what she knew of navigation, Kurin hazarded, “Is that how you tell latitude?”

Sula smiled broadly.  “Yes, it is.  Do you know how it works?”

Kurin thought for a moment, her brow wrinkling, “I would guess that a shaft of sunlight goes through that little hole on top and hits the inside of the bowl under it.  There are probably circles drawn on the inside to mark latitude.  You begin the sight before noon, and the highest point that the spot reaches is both your latitude and your local noon.  You can get a true east west line by putting a flat surface in the bowl and marking the line taken by the spot over a time.  The spot will always travel west to east.  The sun, in the northern hemisphere, is always on the south side of the line, so a bisector gives true north and south as well.”

Sula clapped her hands in delight, “Very well done, Kurin!”  She turned to the man at the latitude device and called out, “Morran! Kurin has never seen a latitude device like ours, and has already figured out how to use it!”

He reflexively he began to gesture, paused and replied in words, “That’s why the Dragon adopted her, and not me.  I had to study this thing for six Wohans to learn how to use it.”

“What is that big round thing rimmed with marlin spikes?” Kurin asked.

“That is the wheel, with it, we control both rudders at the same time…” she was interrupted by the sailor at the latitude device.

“Noon at my mark, one, two, Noon! 6.250!”  

“Noted, is there an elevation?” Sula asked, going to a chart table, and pulling out a much used but well cared for book.

“Getting it now, Captain!” he answered smartly.  “Dorac, at 19 and … I make it ¾0!”  

Sula plied rulers and dividers, for a bit.  “Morran, would you put the log over the side and get me a reading, when you are done?”  Morran was putting away the longitude device and the elevation measuring tool.  Kurin was watching all with curious eyes.  Morran went outside and down to deck, out of sight.  Shortly he returned.

“Ten and a half miles per hour, Captain.”

“Thank you, Morran.  Return to your duties.”  Head bent over the chart, Sula was working out a difficulty.  

“You are too far south, aren’t you?” Kurin asked from her cot.

“How did you know that?  Have you a guess how far?” asked Sula, putting her tools down and looking at Kurin with extreme interest.

“Between twenty two and twenty five miles,” said Kurin seriously.

“OK, Kurin, give,” Sula said, sitting on the edge of the cot.  “You’re right on the mark.  Why are we off?”

“I felt us enter the Cliftos Circulator’s south bearing loop this morning, early.  According to our navigation manuals, it runs about three and a half miles per hour.  That squares with what I am feeling in the waves.  The current is pushing you faster than the log will show because it’s pushing the log too.”

Sula turned to the helmsman, “Lay our course true west.  Signalman! Course change to starboard, now.”

No hard, high notes of a tocsin drum carried through the ship.  In utter silence, the crew swarmed up from whatever they had been doing, to take their places at the lines.  As the ship came about, sails were hauled into new positions for the next tack.

Sula told the signalman, “Tighten up the fore sail.”  A  few moments more of silent communication had lines drawn tighter.  “Good,” was followed by another short silence.  “Now, slack the mains, just a bit,” another quiet exchange and sailors let off line, a bit at a time until Sula sent the “Good” down to them.  “Secure all,” whether delivered by drum or the Dark Dragon’s silent communication was the one call beloved of deck-hands everywhere.  It caused a short flurry of activity as lines were secured, coiled and stowed neatly. Sailors went back to whatever they had been doing.  The Dark Dragon was now coursing toward the sun.

Kurin couldn’t help asking, “How did you change course without drums?  I never heard of any such thing.  I know that you used drums at the Gathering, I heard them.”

Sula smiled at Kurin and said, “You know that Winernight is different from your fleet, right?  I saw you looking closely at our writing.  I am not wearing my hood for your comfort.  That is not so hard for me as it is for many of the crew because I am an adopted Souther.  Using spoken words when there is light to see and my hands are not full is actually difficult.  We use Dayspeech for almost everything, if we can see.”

Sula paused and thought carefully before going on, “We do use drums near other ships if they are friendly or near a fleet anchorage.  It lets other people know that we are there.  When we hunt another ship or are simply alone, except for the Soaring Bird, we use our Dayspeech system.  It does not tell an enemy what we are going to do next.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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[efrmellifer]

Acta Diurna

“Deep breath for me,” the midwife cooed. “Now hold it.”

Etien held her breath, biting her lip to keep air stilled in her lungs.

“Good,” came the soothing voice. “Excellent. And let the breath out.”

Now Etien exhaled, settling back against her pillows again. “Did it sound good?”

“It did! I heard multiple heartbeats, but they were so closely synchronized that I couldn’t count how many exactly. However, if you were having triplets or more, I think you’d be more overtly carrying at this point.”

“So twins?” Aymeric asked, finding his voice and looking up at the midwife from where he was sitting.

“That would be my best guess, though be ready for a surprise when the delivery day comes.”

Etien cleared her throat softly. “And am I still free to travel for some time?”

“For now,” the midwife replied, the way she dragged it out signaling that there was a caveat coming. “Though anything risky should be probably be cut out now, rather than any later.”

“So no Diadem,” Aymeric murmured, coming to Etien’s side and taking her hand. “I’m sorry, dearest.”

Though her expression betrayed that she was put out, she just shrugged. “It was bound to happen eventually.”

“Speaking of eventualities…” The midwife looked between the two of them. “I’d say you have about a moon left before you’ll need to be on bed rest. Light bed rest, to begin with. Walking around the forums occasionally would be good for you, I think. But staying close to home and seated or lying down primarily is the goal. As you progress, we’ll see how things settle and if you’ll need to be under stricter rules, but you’re strong and you seem healthy. So I think you should be all right.”

Etien smiled, her nose crinkling a little bit with the gesture.

Aymeric watched tiredness starting to seep into Etien’s expression, and hurried to get things wrapped up. “Thank you very much, I’rixa,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound like he was trying to usher her out. “Is there anything else we need to keep in mind at the present moment?”

“You both need to get enough sleep. You look tired, ser. She may be undergoing the physical process, but you’re experiencing a lot of change, too. Moreover, you can’t take care of her if you’re exhausted.”

“True,” he conceded. “Wonderful, thank you again. I can show you out.”

“I’ll be back in another moon and a half,” she reminded them both, then followed Aymeric out the door and down the hall.

When he returned, he sighed, leaning against the door frame.

Etien was rubbing her temple.

“Have you a headache again?”

As she turned her head, she dropped her hand back to the covers on the bed. “No. I don’t, fortunately.” She shook her head. Then she sighed. “We need to tell the Scions.” It came out in the same tone as any other groan she’d offer up when she had to do something she didn’t want to.

“Ah. That we do. I must admit, I’m surprised they didn’t find out from the Alliance.”

Etien had gone back to rubbing her head in a vain attempt to self-soothe, but she stopped abruptly. “Gods, you don’t think they did, do you? It is odd that they haven’t asked after me—”

“I have never taken Merlwyb for a blabbermouth, nor Raubahn and the Sultana. Kan-E-Senna, I would imagine, has only told the leadership of the Adders, since you cannot do Serpent errands either.”

“I would never speak ill of the Alliance leaders, but that certainly is a lot of trust to place in them.”

Aymeric looked at Etien and remained silent for perhaps a beat too long as he thought. “Etien. The same as you wouldn’t speak against the Alliance, I won’t speak against the Scions. That being said, I do think that if they had caught even a whiff of what’s been going on, they would have marched right into the manor and been interrogating you as if you had returned from Garlemald.”

Etien coughed.

“Well. You know what I mean,” Aymeric corrected, looking away. “Fury help me, the midwife was right. I do need more sleep.”

With a silent grin, Etien patted the open side of the mattress next to her.

“I slept the day away last time I had a day off. And you were much more capable of taking care of yourself back then.”

“I’m still capable of taking care of myself!” She couldn’t help but sound just a touch indignant. Though if pressed, even she wouldn’t have been able to explain why. It wasn’t like she wanted to force herself into not relying on Aymeric, especially when he was offering himself to be relied upon.

“I—that was a poor choice of words, and not what I meant.” He admitted. “What I had been trying to say was, the last time I had a day off like this, where Lucia took over for me so I could be with you and do with the hours what I willed, I was entirely selfish and slept. But now, it would be better if I were to give you the attention you may require, and for that, I would need to stay awake.”

“All right, darling, but I am asking you to get into bed with me. You don’t need to do anything but lie down.”

“And how many times have I heard that?”

Etien clicked her tongue. “This, and I still invite you into bed.”

He settled under the covers when she lifted them for him, and curled himself around her immediately, head near her belly and arms around her hips.

“I find it strange how slow the change is, and yet one day, it will all be unmissable.”

“And it’s not even your body,” she replied. “It certainly is weird.” She blinked slowly, her drowsiness becoming apparent again. “What are we going to tell the Scions?”

“Perhaps the same words we gave Estinien.”

“Hardly seems fair to Estinien,” Etien mused, letting her arm settle around Aymeric’s shoulders. “We’ve taken him for a lover. He should have something so momentous to himself, don’t you think?”

“I do; you raise an excellent point.”Aymeric thought. “As of this moment, what do you want to say to them?”

“Well. Something to the tune of ‘While the road does go ever onward, and I know I cannot—and so I will not—refuse to walk it, I have taken a detour. I am to be a mother, and so I’ll need time, while the kits develop and after they’re born, to hang up the mantle of Warrior of Light. I can’t bear the weight of the star on my back and the weight of my children on my hips.’”

“Well said. How do you propose to tell them this, o will-worker of the star?”

She huffed. “Sounds too much like Minfilia. And I do not want to be compared to her. Though maybe that’s harsh.” She shook her head to clear it. “Regardless. A letter is all wrong. And using the linkpearl is laughable. Nothing for it. I’ll have to go to the Rising Stones and speak to them in person.”

“Dear-heart, please don’t go to Mor Dhona. Think of it—the gloom. The wildlife. Everyone and their brother seeking an adventurer. It’s too dangerous for you right now.”

“What else can I do?” she asked, sounding resigned but genuinely pleading for his guidance.

Aymeric sighed. “I’ll write a letter. In it, I will ask for one of them. They can choose whom to send.”

“Oh Aymeric, do you think that will go well?”

“How could it go poorly? They know and admire you.”

“If they send Alphinaud, he’ll lose his head, Alisaie might just get angry that I’m letting her win, Urianger will load me down with tomes about pregnancy and cross-bred infants, Y’shtola will laugh me all the way out to Falcon’s Nest, and Thancred will be Thancred.”

“What about Tataru?”

“Oh. She’d tut and pat my hand and start sending food over. Maybe shed a tear about how it was only yesterday she made my bridal gown and now she’ll need to make baby clothing.”

“Do you want me send for Tataru specifically?”

Etien was silent for a long time. “No, but I will write her a personal letter about all this.”

When they received word that one of the Scions was on their way, they’d held their breath waiting.

But when the Scion envoy arrived on the Borel doorstep, Etien realized they had forgotten one important variable.

G’raha Tia.

_

G’raha couldn’t deny that he was a little hesitant as he followed the servant down the hall to the sitting room. He’d seen Etien seated here once or twice when he’d peeked in on the Source before (and once, caught her in a nap), but it was odd to now be sitting there with her.

Fighting alongside his hero when she needed his help was one thing. Resting himself in a chair in her sitting room was a whole different matter. It was like he was seated on a live wire, not quite comfortable, even in a plush, well-built chair.

But the room wasn’t really the issue—it could have been part of any Ishgardian noble’s house. It was the still shockingly young woman seated within it opposite that was unsettling him slightly.

He had never noticed how young Etien still looked. But then, it made sense, didn’t it? She was only 25 now, her 26th nameday coming up in the next moon of Halone. Just after Starlight and Heavensturn.

He knew all this by rote, of course. The Tale of Etien: Left home at 19, adventured in the three city-states for nearly three years, ended the Dragonsong War in Ishgard, liberated Ala Mhigo and Doma, and then… well,  he knew all about what came after that. He’d lived through the last year with her.

He hadn’t gotten to properly celebrate her nameday when he would have had the chance, while she was on the First. Because she hadn’t been. She’d slipped home for Starlight, and then stayed. A little hiccup in the time running parallel had her only gone for a week on the First, though she’d spent three on the Source. But G’raha couldn’t then and couldn’t now find it in himself to be upset that she’d gone home to celebrate.

But all that was in the past now. Marked indelibly on time’s surface, and immutable. They’d all come home, and he was in hers, completely too quiet as she looked at him.

“Hello, G’raha?”

She looked well, and he commented as much.

“Thank you. I suppose I should be grateful I still have my appearance, when it’s been a rough last handful of years.” She laughed. “Anyroad. Do you know why you’re here?”

“The Lord Commander—er, Lord Speaker?—Ser Aymeric sent a letter saying that you and he required the attendance of one Scion of the Seventh Dawn to receive and bear a message back to the others at the Rising Stones. Etien, is everything all right with you?”

“I am healthy and happy. But whether the message you take back following that is good news, well, that is where our opinions may diverge about all things being well.”

G’raha tipped his head, ears bobbing with the motion. “How could any news be bad news, if you’re doing well? I don’t think any of us could blame you for wanting a break. Even the most devoted of the rest of us have had days we put our feet up and called for tea to be brought.”

As he said that, a pot of tea was indeed brought, placed next to Etien alongside a dish laden down with a croissant split down the middle, one half smeared with a nut paste and the other with fruit preserves.

“A bit late and light for a lunch, isn’t it?” he asked.

She laughed. “Oh, I had my lunch. This is so I can keep my energy up. And the tea—rooibos tea, if you were wondering—is for the soothing sensation of the warmth. Not to mention, it’s a habit I would be hard-pressed to kick, so we modify it that I may still indulge safely.”

G’raha laughed at the formality of her diction. “You sound like you’ve become quite the noblewoman in the, I’d say, close to four moons you’ve spent here again?”

She snorted. “In my defense, I was quoting Whitecape.”

“A capable chirurgeon.”

“Very much so.” Etien sighed, crossing her legs at the ankles in front of her. “But we didn’t call you here to talk about the head chirurgeon, or to pick apart my changing speech patterns.”

“I didn’t mean to--”

“Shh, put it out of your mind. I was only teasing. In any case, this break will be longer than just a day spent reading in bed. I’m about to be under medical supervision while I stay in Ishgard. I don’t need a vacation; I’m taking maternity leave.”

“But you’re the Warrior of Light!”

He watched something darken in her expression, looking much the way clouds passing in front of the sun did.

“G’raha, I ask this with all the love in my heart. Are you aware that I’m a real person?”

“I—what? Aye, I do. My referencing the stories was not because I thought they were in any way made up—”

“No, that’s the problem. You heard the stories, all that time ago, before we met and all that. You read Edmont’s memoirs, didn’t you?”

“I did!”

“So you knew, the day you met me outside the Sentinels, what was waiting for me. Knew already how I was going to bleed and spit and cry, and—I don’t think I wanted you to warn me, that’s not what I’m saying. You know that for all I’ve done on Hydaelyn’s pillar with the star on my shoulders that I’m just a scared little girl?”

“You never seemed that way to me. You’ve always been able to rise to the occasion, always been a hero. My hero.”

“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you you had me afraid that I was about to be very much alone, my companions frozen in a sleeping deathlessness, you dragged me away from my husband mere weeks after our wedding, and you almost got me killed by Zenos so you could have me help the First. Not to mention edging on a Lightwarden when I got there.”

“Oh,” G’raha murmured, seeing the way Etien clutched her handkerchief, the way her tail flicked on the seat, next to her leg.

“I can’t imagine how you managed to do that,” she said, quiet suddenly. “How you never—” her jaw clenched, then relaxed, “—never asked any questions. No, that makes sense now.”

He reached out, and she let him lay his hand on hers.

But she ignored it, and kept talking. “Mine has never been to question, unfortunately. Which you know, having heard the tales of me. You’ve always known me, always been one step ahead of me even as you threw yourself to the foreign country of the past. Knew everything about me before I got to discover it about myself. So you didn’t need to ask anything. Not even if I was willing to help you.” She looked up at him, blinking placidly. It was eerie, how she was usually so animated—had always been—but now she was quiet, movements and voice understated as she explicated. “It’s disappointing. That and painful, that your respect for me would go deeper than the average Eorzean’s, because you knew the whole story root to leaf, and yet you couldn’t help acting just like them. Making me your first and last idea to solve any problem, because I would never fail, not when it all hung in the balance. I had to transcend this body—its pain, its hunger, its exhaustion—because Hydaelyn entrusted me with this curse of a blessing.”

G’raha’s ears had long past gone flat, now utterly downturned. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to give me the ages of nineteen to twenty-five back.” She sighed. “That’s cruel, I apologize. Do the books—not Edmont’s, he was busy telling everyone of the Etien he knew and was living with—do they tell of my grief? That I had finally grasped freedom from my life in the Shroud, to be beholden to the needs of the city-states and the agenda of the Scions? That when I was coming into my own as a woman and a weapon, I was accused of crimes far beyond my most sinister thoughts? That I was shuffled from ushering in fragile peace to being the wedge of war for liberation so quickly I— no, they wouldn’t, would they? They tell of my actions, not my feelings.” She laughed. “Or there would be tomes solely dedicated to me and Aymeric.”

G’raha resolved to show her such tomes—they did exist—another time. But for now, she seemed to be running out of steam.

“I wish you’d asked, G’raha. Asked me what being me was like, when we gathered Aethersand. Asked me if I would join you on the First. I would have told you anything you wanted to know. I would have said yes. Instead, you commanded me because you’d made a giant of a terrified girl who hadn’t been living for herself for six years.”

“And I can only offer my deepest apologies,” he responded, trying to abandon the tone he’d always struck as the Exarch. He realized now that he would never fully divorce himself from that position, to her mind. The damage had been done, the bridge burned. They could only step across the charred remains together.

Etien sighed, closing her eyes, then gave him a smile as she opened them. “I can’t say ‘it’s all right,’ but I accept your apology. Someone needed to do the things I had to do, and I choose not to fault you for ensuring I did them.”

“You… choose not to?”

“If I resented everyone who had ever put pressure on me to be The Warrior of Light and not a living, feeling being, I would be holding a grudge against at least half of Eorzea.”

“Fair enough,” he mumbled, ears drooping again.

“Now, I digressed very far afield from my point. I asked you that not to question your belief in me or the stories you heard. The heart of it is that I’d like to have a family, and frankly, every chance I didn’t take before now was risking never being able to. Whether that was because I died or was rendered incapable of having children. Unfit to parent, I mean, above all.”

“Right.”

“So, do you think you and the others can make like the residents of the First and be Warriors of Light for a while, until I can come back? I’m not turning my back on Eorzea. I’m just doing what I haven’t in six years—living my life.”

“I can tell the Scions. You’re in a delicate state and can’t leave Ishgard.”

“Do you think they’ll deduce your meaning?”

“What kind of delicate state could someone like you be in, other than that?”

Etien laughed. “A fair point. Come, I can walk you out.”

_

The flood of letters from everyone came soon after that.

Tataru’s, full of the well wishes Etien had known were coming (had really hoped for, and kept returning to, between all the other letters that had much more flustered tones).

Alphinaud’s and Alisaie’s, jammed into one envelope, where Alphinaud started fretting from afar and Alisaie demanded to be an aunt.

Urianger’s, packed to the gills with advice—as Etien had expected—though a good amount of it was much more useful than anticipated. Y’shtola’s, Thancred’s, F’lhaminn’s, Mother Miounne’s, for the gods’ sake, all were just as she’d thought they would be, though there was one surprise, delivered by falcon, apparently.

“Congratulations and wishes of continued good health to mother, father, and baby (babies?). Hopefully the parcel of clothing arrives equally safely to this letter. We did not want to burden the falcon unnecessarily with both deliveries at once.  We hope to hear from you soon! With love from Doma, Rin and Hien.”

Etien smiled wide as she read that one. Though as she folded it back up, she was startled by a shout in the streets, a darkening of the sky, and the low thud and rumble of a landing dragon.

She glanced out the window just in time to see a red eye peering in.

Etien stepped outside, eager to greet her Dravanian visitor.

“Vidofnir!”

“Ah, my friend, how long it hath been since I have gotten to speak with thee. A Scion did come unto me bearing news of thy return, and thy subsequent confinement to the city?”

She nodded. “For my health, and the health of my children,” she gestured vaguely toward her abdomen, “I have to stay close to home. The Forelands might be a bit too risky for me, even.”

“A shame. I would have liked to celebrate with thee, had the chance arisen.”

Etien smiled, tilting her head back to meet Vidofnir’s eyes. “And we will! After the kits are born. Then, we can celebrate twice as many occasions.”

“Ah. ‘Tis good to see thee in such high spirits about the matter. I feared the worst when I received word.”

“I appreciate your concern.”

“I know not what succor I can offer thee in these times, but know that if thou hast need of me, thy call is all I require.”

Etien bowed without thinking. “I will certainly keep you in my mind and heart.”

“Then I wish thee well until we meet again, Warrior of Warriors.”

She waved as Vidofnir took to the skies again, the dragon miraculously lifting off the stones even with so little room between one building and another to flap.

And then she returned inside, neither dressed for the cold wind blowing down the street, nor prepared in any other way to remain outdoors.

It had been a long few days. She was going to nap, and get back to the letters later. If, Fury willing, Aymeric would help her sort through them and formulate appropriate responses, that was.

And while she had the time, early though it may have been, she wanted to think of names.

[exeggcute]

glad to know you are mostly recovered from covid! if i may ask, could you describe how where your symptoms or at what pace you got them? the information i've got from both medical / govermental sources in my country is contradictory at times. also, what would you recommend drinking if i found myself to be with covid?

first off: WATER!!! drink water!!! I mean you can probably drink whatever as long as it’s moderately healthy and you’re staying hydrated (my drink of choice while sick is red gatorade. it has to be red or it doesn’t work though) but water is always a safe bet

also I’m happy to share my experience, just know that (1) I am not a doctor, just a professional Sick Person and (2) I never officially got tested thanks to a shortage of coronavirus tests in my area, but I’m pretty damn sure my symptoms were aligned with covid-19, so take that as you will

the first thing I noticed was a sore throat... but I have sore throats allll the time because of my other health issues, so I didn’t think much of it. I did start to notice my sore throat was getting better (from a previous mystery illness that knocked me out for a few days, and which I initially thought was strep but was probably just a bad cold) before suddenly getting bad again. I also had a day where my sore throat was especially pronounced and I had that Really Tired Feeling you get when you’re sick. I guess we can call that day one, but at this point I definitely didn’t think I had corona

that night I noticed some chest tightness, which I initially wrote off as an anxiety attack (and considering my extremely anxious personality and the fact that we were battening down the hatches for a pandemic, that seemed like a fair assumption) but using my inhaler didn’t help--in fact, it made the pain worse! but it did pass eventually, more or less, and I forgot about it

(side note here that if you think you have corona, do NOT use your albuterol inhaler or any kind of steroid inhaler unless you’re having a legit asthma attack with wheezing and all the works. using your inhaler can make the corona symptoms worse, but obviously if you need to use it then it’s important to keep using it. consult your doctor. also another similar note: if you think you have it, stay away from most NSAIDs if you can, as those can also make things worse. tylenol is okay though as long as you’re careful about the dosage--not as a corona thing, you just always need to be careful with tylenol dosage. and it’ll help keep your fever down, which is important!)

then over the next day or two I noticed the chest pain flare-ups but wrote those off as well. they were short-lived and mainly seemed to happen at night, but the inhaler always made them worse. around this time I also started experiencing some general GI upset for a few days (not to get too into that...), but I have a very touchy digestive track and was taking antibiotics at the same for other unrelated reasons, so I was like “well it’s probably nothing” but was starting to get worried.

then about five days later, the chest tightness really made itself present. like, it lasted all day and was constant. I was concerned but not immediately freaking out, and it was really windy that day so I kind of chalked it up to allergies, but as a very allergic person I’ve never had chest tightness like that from allergies (and my other allergic symptoms have improved considerably since I started allergy shots, so it would be weird to have a new symptom crop up out of nowhere like that).

then the next day, and the next day, the tightness wasn’t going away. this was clearly not allergies. I started to seriously think about corona tests, and I even called my primary care doctor, but she was extremely dismissive (all she did was call in a prescription for an old allergy drug that never even worked for me in the first place) and it was downright impossible to get tested. I was freaked out, but not entirely sure.

it’s about day seven at this point, and the chest tightness is in full swing. when I first wake up, the pain isn’t really present, but after about an hour of wakefulness my chest starts to get tight, congested, and kind of has that rattle-y feeling when it’s full of mucus and crap from the postnasal drip. not much congestion otherwise, but I’m so hopped up on antihistamines at all times that I don’t really get congested in general. the best way I can describe the chest tightness is that it feels like when I exert myself and my asthma makes my chest seize up and it’s hard to catch my breath (aka every single PE class I was ever forced to take as a kid), but my inhaler doesn’t do shit. my throat is still hurting pretty bad too and I feel vaguely fevery, but I don’t have a working thermometer at home. overall I just feel shitty, like that feeling you have when you know you’re sick (and I get sick a lot so I’m pretty well-versed in that lol). for quarantine purposes, this is the day I’ve been counting as the “first day” of having obvious corona symptoms, but it was really predated by the things I described above.

several days pass like this, I keep trying to get tested and call all sorts of places but it’s all dead ends. I also develop a slight cough, which mostly comes in bursts or when I speak/eat. by day twelve I manage to get a primary care appointment, and they do an EKG to make sure it’s not cardiac pain (the EKG came back fine) and a throat swab to see if it’s something bacterial (it’s not). they do confirm I’m running a slight fever, although my body temperature is usually so low that even a fever of 99 is high for me. my primary care doc basically tells me to fuck off and stay home, which I was already planning on doing. she also didn’t even wear a mask or gloves to look into my throat, despite the fact that all the other nurses in the practice were wearing masks and gloves when they interacted with patients... so I’m not exactly full of confidence in her judgement here.

the night of day thirteen, the day after seeing my doctor, I have a night where I can’t sleep because my airway feels restricted (both in my chest and my actual throat being swollen from pain). I used my inhaler, like a fool, and when the inhaler didn’t help the first time I tried using it two more times. big mistake! I ended up lying awake gasping for air, taking huge gulps just to feel like I was getting the teeniest bit of oxygen, and feeling stabbing pain when I took these deep breaths. I was too afraid to sleep and almost made my girlfriend drive me to the ER but I hate going to the ER so instead I just tried to calm down until I got exhausted enough to fall asleep around dawn. I also kept alternating between sweating buckets and shivering to death, no matter how I kept adjusting the temperature and my blankets, so I assume I was having a crazy fever that night.

the next day, roughly day fourteen, I decided to suck it up and go to the ER to get a chest x-ray. they said my x-ray looked fine, which was encouraging (hopefully no permanent lung damage there), and they took a flu swab and a strep swab just to rule those out (both negative, of course). at least two other people were there with me in the ER complaining of similar symptoms, but they didn’t have any tests for us so the doctor just told me to go home, act as if I had it, and keep taking tylenol and drinking water. this doctor is also the one who told me to stop using my inhaler--and the fact that my inhaler kept making the pain worse is one of the things that really tips me off here that I probably had it.

things are pretty much uneventful for the next week: still having a tight chest, a fever that seems to come and go, sore throat, cough. no more crazy attacks like that one night.

by day nineteen (yesterday) I start to notice a bit of improvement in my chest pain. it’s not gone, but it’s not as bad and I’ll have slight reprieves from the tightness. today is day twenty (more or less, my numbers are a little rough here) and I actually felt okay most of the day. by the evening the tightness returned and I’m still coughing every now and then, but far less often. I think the fever is gone and my throat doesn’t hurt too bad, either! I’m well past the point of being contagious, so I actually went to the grocery store today and got a few things. I’m not totally out of the woods yet, but I think (knock on fucking wood) the worst has passed.

anyway, I hope my anecdote is helpful for you, and I hope you stay safe and healthy!

[assdiscourse]

IronDad Bingo (1): Hibernation

Note: I saw this challenge and decided to do it but idk who made it or like if I’m supposed to credit someone for the board cause I just chose a random one so lemme know whuddup with that and ENJOY! (also this isn’t beta read because im 19 nd dunno how to fukin read)

Peter didn’t realise how screwed he was until he tried to stand up from the couch to go grab his phone from his backpack, which he had haphazardly thrown aside somewhere near the entrance of the penthouse along with his jacket upon arrival, and then just- couldn’t.

Come to think of it, he had been steadily feeling more and more worn out the closer he got to the Tower. The minute he stepped in, it was almost as if the air was heavier, weighing him down and making it harder to walk. He had just chalked that up to being drained from school; after three tests, having to listen to all the chatter about the Winter Formal coming up, and of course, Flash being Flash, it had seemed reasonable to believe that it was just all of that catching up to him.

But then again, the tests had been really easy considering how far ahead he was from the school’s curriculum thanks to Mr. Stark’s vast collection of books on almost every topic Peter has ever been curious about, and his generosity in letting Peter ‘borrow’ them whenever he wanted and annotate the hell out of them until they just about doubled in width with the amount of sticky notes he stuffed in there and found a home on his desk back at the apartment rather than untouched in Mr. Stark’s library since he preferred the convenience of reading on his screens, unlike Peter, who loved the heavy weight of a book in his hands.

The Winter Formal was another potential stressor but honestly, ever since the Homecoming fiasco, Peter has felt pretty much unattached to school dances. He would go if Ned or MJ wanted to go, although the latter was less likely, but otherwise he couldn’t care less. Maybe it was because he was prone to ditching school events, which Liz could corroborate for him if she wasn’t all the way in Oregon (which, by the way, his fault. He knows he made the right choice that night but that doesn’t do anything to lessen the guilt of being the reason her whole life got uprooted), but also because school dances pretty much revolved around dating and asking someone out or getting asked out, and Peter was beyond dating, at least for now when he had so many other exciting things to focus on that his brain doesn’t even entertain the idea of it.

Flash was the only remaining factor but Peter had pretty much gotten used to his mocking and PG version of violence compared to what he faced out in the streets, so it almost faded into the background now. (Almost)

So logically, Peter should have known that something wasn’t right when his vision started fading in and out as he tried to focus on Karamo’s wise words on self-love, which apparently never sunk in even after binge-watching the entire first season of Queer Eye in one day, because he ignored all the signs screaming ‘SOMETHING IS NOT RIGHT!’ and now he’s stuck on Mr. Stark’s couch whilst he and Ms. Potts are in a meeting for another hour.

In all fairness, having an IQ of 180 didn’t mean Peter was actually smart because, as his friends will verify, he was a dumb shit with no sense of self-preservation and apparently zero (0) common sense.

“Friday,” He managed to squeeze out, but it wasn’t loud enough to alert the AI, barely a whisper because he’s pretty sure he’s being strangled or something.

Tears started to leak from his eyes from the frustration of not being able to move or call for help. (and also being terrified)

“Hhhel—”

“Fri–”

“please–”

He could feel his lips move, but no sound was coming out. Vision hazy, unable to breathe, his limbs weighed down, and a scared plea for help on his lips were the last things he felt before the world went black.

_______

Waking up after sustaining an injury whilst out as Spiderman and losing consciousness was always weird. He would always have to fight through the fog left behind by the sedatives and the first of his senses he got back was always his hearing, and then slowly came the rest.

He would hear the steady beeps of the heart monitor, and Mr. Stark usually pacing around the room. He would hear the small sniffles Aunt May tried to hide as she cried tears of frustration and worry, sitting beside his bed.

This was different.

When he reached consciousness, the first thing he did was feel, and he felt warm. He could feel a heaviness on top of him but instead of a boulder crushing him down, it felt like soft blankets enveloping him. He could feel warm air rushing around him as if the air vents were right next to his face. And most importantly, he could feel two warm bodies on either side of him.

All in all, he felt warm.

And soon, confused.

He sluggishly blinked his eyes open, and turned his head only to be met with the sight of Ms. Potts- THE Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, Powerhouse, his mentor’s fiance, and his kinda mother-figure (although he would never admit it), curled up asleep next to him.

His eyes widened, and his confusion grew astronomically, as he whipped his head to the other side only to be met with a mouthful full of fabric and a light in his eyes.

Mortified, he realised he was tucked under Mr. Stark’s chin, currently very much cuddling his mentor, the same man whose idea of affection was limited to ruffling his hair, putting an arm around his shoulders, or only in the rare cases, usually when Peter read a social cue wrong, hugs.

He tried scrambling out of what he now registered as Mr. Stark and Ms. Pott’s bed, in their ROOM HOLY SHI- but just sitting up had made his head spin horribly and he couldn’t really leave without disturbing them both.

He tried to calm down, slow down his now heaving breaths because he was panicking okay?

Cuddling with Ms. Pott’s was okay because she has always been physically affectionate, from kissing his forehead, to hugs before he left, and even occasionally, falling asleep on her whilst the three of them watched movies in the lounge, so he didn’t think she would mind.

But Mr. Stark?

Mr. Stark wasn’t one for physical affection, and although he must have ended up in their bed by their own volition considering the last thing he remembered was feeling faint whilst watching Queer Eye on the couch outside in the lounge, but it didn’t mean Mr. Stark would be comfortable with him cosying up to him in his own bed.

Which - huh. In his panicking, he had forgotten his confusion, which came back full force now, because? Why was he in their bed anyway?

“Kid?”

He looked back to see Mr. Stark blinking awake.

Peter, of course, immediately started awkwardly rambling, “Mr. Stark! Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, I was trying really hard not to but then I couldn’t leave the bed as well and I’m confused I don’t really know why I’m here and sorry for getting spit on your shirt-”

“Kid, calm down. How’re you feeling?”

“Fine? A little tired, but nothing I can’t handle.” Which- not entirely the truth, cause his body feels sore all over, but it’s not the worst he’s ever felt so.

Mr. Stark closes his eyes for a bit and breathes out a sigh of relief. He doesn’t say anything else, so the only thing Peter can hear is Ms. Potts’ light snoring, which confuses him even more, because isn’t this weird? Why is Mr. Stark acting like this is no big deal?

“Uh, Mr. stark, can I ask, um, why am I here?”

“What do you mean kid?” Mr Stark said, sitting up a little against the headboard, and reaching for a glass of water on his side table, taking a sip and then handing the rest to Peter, who swigged it down in three big gulps, cause wow he didn’t realise how thirsty he was, before answering, “Like, well, here. Asleep. In your bed.”

“You don’t remember?” Mr. Stark asked looking a little concerned, but not alarmed so it couldn’t have been that bad, right?

“Um no..?”

“Kid, what’s the last thing you remember?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “I remember being on the couch and watching tv and oh! I tried to get my phone but I couldn’t get up-”

And then it all came back to Peter - realising he could barely move, feeling scared but unable to call for help or do much of anything, the helplessness.

“I got an alert from Friday saying your heartbeat had dropped dangerously low, so Pepper and I rushed home, only to find you looking catatonic on the couch.” Mr. Stark shuddered, the lines around his mouth looked deeper as they held a frown, his eyes a bit scared as he recalled, “You were apparently going into hibernation which, I know we hypothesized the possibility of it, but at the moment I didn’t think-

Anyway, the heating had been shut off for maintenance so the penthouse temperature had fallen to around forty-two, and fuck kid, you didn’t even have a jacket on, being exposed to that temperature for such a long time caused your body to start shutting down, you were damn near hypothermic. I called Bruce, and he said everything should be fine as long as we got you warm and kept an eye on you, so Pepper suggested we bring you here. You’ve woken up twice since but this is the most coherent you’ve been so far, so that’s good.”

“But I didn’t even feel cold?” Peter was confused because he knows his spider DNA makes him unable to thermoregulate properly but on his walk back from school he felt normal, not cold at all!

Which… was not normal, dammit! How had he not realised something was wrong when he didn’t feel cold. In January. In New York. With snow on the ground!

“We’ll definitely have to run some tests for that, but chances are since your body was preparing to hibernate, it’s probable that your brain stopped processing external stimuli.”

“Huh yeah, I guess I didn’t really notice much but my vision was going all wonky," he paused for moment, scrunching up his nose absentmindedly, "but um anyway I guess I’ll leave now then and we can- tomorrow we’ll uh yeah but uh thank you for taking care of me.”

Mr. Stark looked like he was about to protest as he made to get up - or try to get up, because honestly, he didn’t think he could stand up properly yet, still feeling weak but he’ll cross that bridge when he got to it, so like 10 seconds from now - but a hand on his arm stopped him. He looked back to see Pepper awake and looking over at him concerned.

Suddenly he was being pulled back into a hug, which he immediately melted into because that’s the feeling Pepper brought, contentment. Comfort.

What surprised him is that Mr. Stark joined in, hugging them both so tight, he almost couldn’t breathe.

Pulling back, Peter saw both their faces and, clearly, how they found him must have looked much scarier than Mr. Stark described because both of them look shaken, scared, with so much love and worry in their eyes that Peter dove back in for another hug, and started to cry.

He had been so so scared on that couch, unable to do anything, feeling almost as if he was about to go to sleep and never wake up. So yeah, he took the comfort that his family was so ready to provide.

He didn’t object when Mr. Stark laid back and pulled him in to lay his head on his chest, nor when Pepper started running her hand through his hair.

He wriggled his toes a couple times to make sure he still could, only kinda scared of freezing up again, but he knew no matter what happened he would be okay because he was with two of the three people he loved most in the world. He let himself relax into their touch, knowing he’s safe here and fell asleep.

[generaldevi]

Prognosis

Chapter 6: Stomach Issues

Rating: Mature Pairing: Law x Luffy

Characters: Roronoa Zoro, Nami, Monkey D. Luffy, Trafalgar D. Water Law, Usopp, Donquixote Doflamingo (mentioned), Donquixote Rocinante (mentioned, Dr. Kureha (mentioned), Sanji (mentioned)

Warnings: References to Depression, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Dependency

My part for the @lawlu-events BigBang 2018/19

The story got illustrated by the awesome artist @novicecomics

The way Law thinks about alcohol + work or alcoholism in general does not reflect my opinion. Do not drink and drive/work. Do nothing, that could endanger you or others. Be responsible with any kind of legal drug that you consume!

Chapter 6: Stomach-Issues

Law was restless. He was not sure why he felt like this. The night had been rather relaxing. He had managed five hours of sleep, which was quite a lot for a person like him.

The morning had been eventless. He had managed to eat his breakfast in a relaxed manner. No annoying people had bothered him. The Strawhat had been nowhere in sight. Some folks might call it paranoia, Law called ‘staying safe.’ After breakfast Law went to the doctor’s office, swapped shifts with Dr. Kureha. She sounded a bit buzzed. The room was left in a mess. Good thing, that the cleaning staff took care of it in a swift manner. Law was already waiting for the inevitable to happen. He sat at the desk, waiting for the Strawhat to barge in. One of his friends in whatever condition. But he did not come. There were a few elder people in need of some light medication against nausea, some girls wanting lotion for the blisters on their feet or lotion for their sunburns. One teen had come with a twisted ankle and another person with a migraine was currently resting in one of the prepared rooms. So far, nothing unusual. So far, no Strawhat.

In the last hour no one had come to visit him. It could be, that it was because one of the doctors sharing his shift was way more friendly (especially towards children). But well, nothing Law was concerned about. He disliked children. Their usual friendliness, the innoence, their open manner made him uneasy. Damn, mandatory three-month traineeship on the pediatric ward had been hell. Law wanted a different traineeship. He had three to pick from and Doflamingo had picked for him. He was supposed to be good with children. He was supposed to take care of the future family descendants. Law sighed. Not the things he wanted to think about at the moment. He had to admit, that sitting around at the moment and doing nothing, was not doing him any good. It never did. His mind wandered off to the Strawhat more times than Law liked to admit. Did he finally realize, that the attempts at befriending him had been futile? Probably. It was just a typical thing. It had happened before many times. People always tried to befriend him. Somehow, they constantly thought, he had a cool or special vibe to him or maybe it was due to the fancy clothes from the Donquixote-brand. Law did not care about their reasons. After being declined two, three or more times, they realized that Law had no interest in them. Usually, the attempts at trying to befriend him stopped by then. Law always thought of these people as pathetic beings, like Doflamingo has advised Law. The Donquixote had taught him many things that stuck with Law till today. If these people were sincerely interested in him, they were supposed to try harder! That is what he had said. Cora-san always said, that friends would stick with him, even in critical times. These pathetic attempts at befriending him made Law feel, as if they were not genuinely interested in Law but only in what he represented. A perfect little Donquixote spawn, made and raised to be a loyal pawn. However, something had seemed unusual about the Strawhat. Law could not pinpoint what it was. The cheerful grin, the shishishi or just his presence in general. It had some fairly familiar vibe. With a sigh he took one of the medical books standing next to him. They were outdated, probably just there to look cool and professional. But well, better read something, then being bored.

With every passing minute, with every voice outside the door, that was not the Strawhat his mood dropped a bit further.

When his shift was finally over, he was angry and frustrated. Of course, he had to be right. Of course, no one would be like Cora-san ever again. Trying hard to be friends with him, to get close to him.

Sometimes Law was not quite sure if it was his own fault, that he ended up without friends, or if he could blame being raised by a megalomaniac sociopath. It was always easier to blame others than to admit, that only he could alter his attitude. The exchange of the room was easily made. The cleaning staff did not have much to do. The migraine-patient was still resting. After filing in his report, he left the room. With a grumpy expression on his face, he walked towards the deck.

No. Law was in no mood of idle socialising. He did not want to see any more people than necessary. With a sigh he turned around and walked towards his cabin. The more time he spent with Dr. Kureha, the more Law thought that maybe alcohol was the solution he needed, chemical pun intended.

Grim thoughts spread through his mind as the keycard was pushed through the card system. The door opened and with another sigh Law fell into his bed. Maybe he should have spent the mandatory time-off with the family. Better than feeling yet another disappointment.

Law was not sure how long he had spent brooding in bed. Long enough, considering his alarm clock showed nine in the evening. His shift had ended four hours ago. Wait- what was this noise? Someone was hammering against his door. “Torao!!! I know you are in there! Torao!” Laws eye twitched. No. He had spent too much time thinking about the Strawhat. This was just another auditory hallucination. “Torao?! Are you sleeping?”

With a sigh and the familiar throbbing, that would soon start to be a migraine, he opened the door. “No. But if I was, now I would be awake anyway!” He growled, looking at the over enthusiastic boy in front of him. Why was the damn boy constantly smiling!? Who could be in such a upbeat mood all the fucking time?! “Good that I did not wake you up then! You often look tired!” “Why are you here…?” Law was in no mood for idle talk.

 “I uhm-“ Luffy frowned. He wanted to ask him for the barbeque again. Nami did say, that Torao was just gonna decline again, if he did it the same way as the days before. Stubborn! Who could decline good food this often?! Nami did suggest, that he could fake some kind of disease to spent time with Torao but Usopp said, that Toroa was probably to smart for that. True, then again. He could just try! “I uh- have a stomach ache!” It was the first thing that entered his mind. His eyes were still gleaming, and the corners of his mouth were twitching. It was hard to fake sickness! Luffy was in a good mood, and he wanted to show it! “You have a stomach ache?” Laws voice was monotone. Even though he was a relatively young doctor, he had his fair share of people trying to fake illness. Some because of medicine-addiction, some to get free from work, others due to psychological reasons. All these people had one thing in common, though. They did it way better and realistic than the Strawhat in front of him! The way he starred at him; eyes locked deeply into his. His mouth was twitching to much; his whole posture was tensed up. One did not have to be a genious to recognize these signs. “Are you sure? “N- Yes!” Luffy knew, that liars often looked away. They said that in one of the criminal shows. So, he had to look in Torao’s eyes to make him believe! He stared. Intensely. “Okay. Did you consume something odd?” “No! I did not eat at all! I waited with the dinner until you come. You did not come out on the deck! So, I went to search you! Hn-“ Luffy’s stomach rumbled loudly. He was starved! He had not eaten since noon! That was nearly six hours ago! “You searched me, because I did not come to the deck?” “Yes!” “I thought you came to me because of your stomach issues.” Law suppressed a sly grin. Too easy.

“I-“ Luffys eyes widened a bit, before he started to laugh.“I am not good at lying! Usopp is extremely good at that!” Law was fascinated. How easy the boy could admit, that he was bad at something this substantial. Lying. Who managed to live without lying?! “But yes. I wanted to find you! After talking to the old had, she described me, where your cabin is! Come now! Let us go eat! After ten we cannot eat the deck anymore!” “No, Str-Luffy. I do not want to eat with you. I dislike barbeque, and I do not want to be with either you or your friends on the deck.” For a moment there was a frown on Luffy’s face, before he grinned again.

“Okay!” He turned around, taking a few steps away from the other’s door. Law stood there, frozen. He left. As easy as that? He pushed away the feelings of regret and isolation. Numbness spread through his veins, making it easier to accept. As always. Slowly, Luffy turned his head around, grinning at Law. “If you do not wanna be with us on the deck, then I bring my friends to you! We eat at your cabin!” Law was too shocked to react for a moment. In his cabin- “Wait, no!” This boy. He had not let him down.

„Okay, fine!“Law exhaled, while gently massaging his throbbing temples. This boy gave him a terrible headache. He wished for nothing more than some painkillers, coffee and a cigarette amd maybe a good lay to get rid of these thoughts. “If I go and eat with you once, will you stop bothering me?!” “Yes!” Luffy grinned. He knew, he could convince the other one! “You and your friends will not come to my office room again. If one of you is dying, you will go to one of the other doctors!” “Sure!” Luffy laughed, amused by Laws reaction. He had known, that Law was more than the calm and unapproachable person!

“Come! I am starving!” He reached for the others hand, simply pulling the other one towards him. “Let us go to the others! Nami likes you! Usopp is scared of you! But he is frightened of many things! He will get used to you! Just talk to him about robots or comics! Or insects!”

“Of course you are hungry, so much to stomach problems!” He knew, the other one had been faking! It had been so obvious. He had never witnessed such a pathetic case of faking… in all his years as student or now doctor. Merely observing him lie, had made Law feel awful. Stomach Issues... He had watched Luffy eat. The amount of food the other one had stuffed into himself in the short time Law, had observed him, had been… surprising. Law was curious. Was it a special medical condition? Luffy was not obese; in fact the boy was far from it. He was more of a scrawny person with a hint of muscles. Not enough muscles to justify the intake of the immense amount of calories. Maybe these thoughts would distract him from the annoying company of the Strawhat and his odd friends.

[i-amusemyself]

1 To 116.

Thanks anon!! Thats my boredom cured for the evening

1: Let’s start with a tricky one; what is the real reason you are confused right now?

I’m actually not confused right now, which is a bloody rarity. I suppose I could say I’m slightly confused about my gender, but I try not to think about that tbh

2: Do you ever get “good morning” texts from anyone?

Occasionally, though to be fair I’m never awake in the mornings atm lmao

3: If your significant other smoked pot, would you care?

On a rare occasion? No. All the time? Probably.

4: Do you find it easy to trust others?

Fuck no lmao have you met people?

5: What were you doing at 11PM last night?

Umm...I was with my bf..

6: You’re drunk and lost walking down the road; who is with you?

Probably my mate from uni @bookdragonphoenix

7: What would you do if you found out you had been cheated on?

Instant break up. No excuses for that.

8: Are you close with your dad?

Hoo boi that’s complicated! It varies honestly, but more so than some people I guess

9: I bet you kissed someone last night, right?

Yeah

10: What are you listening to?

I’m listening to Ke$ha’s Die Young. It’s a tune okay?

11: You can only drink ONE liquid for the rest of your life - what is it?

Coke Cola (that is how you spell it right? Fuck im dumb). I live off it anyway tbh

12: Do you like hickeys?

Um, I like getting them but I get embarrased if some people see them lmfao

13: What time do you go to bed?

Like 12am? Usually about 2 hours after I’m tired enough to sleep smh

14: Is there someone who continuously lets you down?

Besides me? I guess a couple of people that are...distant friends and possibly a few family members, not to call anyone out

15: Can you text as quickly with one hand as you do both?

Well no lmao

16: Do you always answer your texts?

90% of them

17: Do you hate the person you fell the hardest for?

I don’t know who I fell the hardest for. I don’t really recall past emotions that well.

18: When was the last time you talked to one of your best friends?

Todayy

19: Is there someone that makes you happy every time you see them?

3 or 4 people yeah!

20: What was your last thought before you went to bed last night?

Fuck me I don’t know. Probably ughhh can I fall asleep pls

21: Is anyone else in the room with you?

Nope. I havent even seen another human today lmao

22: Do you believe what goes around comes around?

To an extent, but it’s not always guaranteed unfortunately

23: Were you happier four months ago than you are now?

Fuck no lmao

24: Is there someone you wish you could fix things with?

That depends on the definition of fix. If it solely relies on me doing things different, then no. But if it means someone else can themselves be fixed, sure.

25: In the past week, have you cried?

Nah, wish I could though I feel like I need to

26: What colour is the shirt you are wearing?

Grey

27: Do people ever call you by your last name?

Not people I see anymore

28: Is anyone ignoring you right now?

Don’t think so. I think people are just busy.

29: Do you have a best friend?

I have multiple

30: Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the last person you kissed?

Very :/

31: Who was your last call/text message from?

@oneshappyplace bc she loves it when i throw random shit her way and vice versa

32: Are you mad at anyone?

I mean besides the people I have long term issues with? Nah

33: Have you ever kissed someone older than you?

Haha yeah

34: How old will the last person you kissed be on his/her next birthday?

20. Oh jeeeeesus christ that’s a scary fucking thought. Nope-ing away from that.

35: How many more days until your birthday?

8 months ish?

36: Do you have any summer plans yet?

I’m going away to quite a few places. There’s more I want to do but I don’t know if it will ever get organised.

37: Do you have any good friends of the opposite sex?

Besides my bf, not good ones. 

Edit: I completely forgot about one of my friends, yes I do

38: Are you keeping anything from your best friend(s) now?

Not intentionally. Idk. Don’t ask don’t tell I guess.

39: Do you have a secret that you’ve never told anyone?

Yeah bc it aint anyones business

40: Have you ever regretted kissing someone?

I don’t think so. 

41: Do you think age matters in relationships?

To an extent. Massive age gaps are weird, especially if one of them is hella young

42: Are you available?

Nein

43: How many people have you had real, strong feelings for since high school ended?

2

44: If you had to get a piercing (not ears), what would you get?

Eyebrow piercing

45: Do you believe exes can be friends?

I guess? I mean I probs couldn’t do that but I guess for others 

46: Do you regret anything?

So fucking much omfg

47: Honestly, what’s on your mind right now?

How shit I am at communication. I’m really starting to get mad at myself and wonder what the fuck is wrong with me.

48: Did you ever lose a best friend?

In a way, yeah

49: Was your last kiss a mistake?

No

50: Why aren’t you pursuing the person you like?

I...am ig

51: Has the last person you kissed ever seen you cry?

Yup

52: Do you still talk with the person you LAST kissed?

Wow this is relentless with the kissing. Yah

53: What was the last thing you ate?

An orange

54: Did you get any compliments today?

Nope

55: Where are you going on your next vacation?

Suffolk for latitude festival. How I ended up going there is a long story lmao

56: Do you own anything from other countries?

Tons of stuff I guess. I mean I’m wearing my ohio state tshirt haha

57: Are most of your friend guys or girls?

Girls

58: Where have you lived most of your life?

In the middle of england

59: When was the last time you took a long drive?

Fucking hell, like 7 or 8 weeks ago when I came back to uni

60: Have you ever played Spin the Bottle?

Who hasn’t?

61: Have you ever TPd someone’s house?

Nah 

62: Who do you text the most?

Probably @oneshappyplace or @apricot-el they get all my bs

63: What was the last movie you saw?

It’s called Chronicle, it was p good

64: What’s preventing your current boyfriend/girlfriend from going back to their ex?

Don’t fekkin ask that lmao! Hopefully the fact they’re happy and their ex is now miles away

65: How many boyfriends/girlfriends did you have in 2011?

Zero

66: Is the last person you kissed younger than you?

Nein

67: Do you curse around your parents?

Yeah, much to their dislike

68: Are you happy with where you live?

Yeah, but I’m only here for 3 more weeks

69: Picture of yourself?

No chance. Just imagine stereotypical androgenous kid, but lanky af

70: Are you a monogamous person or do you believe in open-ended relationships?

Personally I prefer monogamy

71: Have you ever been dumped?

Um...I actually can’t remember

72: What do you most like about making out?

Feeling wanted ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (sweet sweet depression and anxiety)

73: Have you ever casually made out with someone who you weren’t seriously involved with?

Nah

74: When you kiss someone for the first time, is it usually you who initiates it or the other?

Strangely enough, me

75: What part of a person’s body do you find most attractive?

I cannot seriously pick one part

76: Who was the last person you talked to last night before you went to bed?

You guessed it it’s @oneshappyplace

77: Had sex with someone you knew less than an hour?

I mean I’m alone

78: Had sex with someone you didn’t know their name?

Nope

79: What makes your heart flutter and brings a big cheesy smile to your face?

Just cute unexpected gestures I suppose

80: Would you get involved with someone if they had a child already?

I mean, maybe not currently but who knows if I was older

81: Has someone who had a crush on you ever confessed to you?

Yeah

82: Do you tell a lot of people when you have a crush?

Just my closest friends and the person I have a crush on *eye roll*

83: Do you miss your last sweetie?

No

84: Last time you slow danced with someone?

Years ago

85: Have you ever ‘dated’ someone you’ve never met?

I mean I’ve met them now but yes 

86: How can I win your heart?

Be a kind, understanding human being with a damn good sense of humor

87: What is your astrological sign?

Libra

88: What were you doing last night at 12 AM?

Bothering friends lmao

89: Do you cook?

Occasionally. I used to a lot more but depression

90: Have you ever gotten back in touch with an old flame after a time of more than 3 months of no communication?

Yeah, but it only ever seems to be me making the effort, so every time I’ve let them go again

91: If you’re single right now, do you wish you were in a relationship?

see like all previous answers lol

92: Do you prefer to date various people or do you pretty much fall into monogamous relationships quickly?

Monogamous stuff

93: What physical traits do you look for in a potential interest?

I honestly don’t know. I can never figure out my type, just, hotness lmao

94: Name four things that you wish you had!

Dopamine, money, the power to help others more...thats it thats all I want

95: Are you a player?

Nein

96: Have you ever kissed 2 people in one day?

Nope

97: Are you a tease?

I can be but not in a cruel way

98: Ever meet anyone you met on Tumblr?

Two people and we’re still close

99: Have you ever been deeply in love with someone?

That’s a loaded question yikes. I dont know.

100: Anybody on Tumblr that you’d go on a date with?

I mean I don’t know their tumblr but yh

101: Hugs or Kisses?

Both. I can’t choose. I’m bi.

102: Are you too shy to ask someone out?

Probs idk

103: The first thing you notice about the opposite sex?

....their face?

104: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you babe?

Sure

105: If a sexy person was pursuing you, but you knew he/she was in relationship, would you go for it?

Not until I knew wtf they were playing at

106: Do you flirt a lot?

I’m hopeless at it

107: Your last kiss?

Yesterday

108: Have you kissed more than 5 people since the start of 2012?

I haven’t kissed that many people, full stop.

109: Have you kissed anyone in the past month?

Yikes see 107

110: If you could kiss anyone who would it be?

The bae tbh

111: Do you know who you’ll kiss next?

I have a p good idea

112: Does someone like you currently?

I fekkin hope so

113: Do you currently have feelings for anyone?

Yeah lmao

114: Do you like to be in serious relationships or just flings?

Serious shit 

115: Ever made out with just a friend?

Once when drunk 

116: Are you happier single or in a relationship?

In a relationship, for sure

[owenteaguer]

1-150 love u hot ma

omg baby you’re too good to me..... you shouldn’t have.......... but I’m gonna do it because I’m bored as shit ;)

but I’ll be kind to everyone and make it a “see more” type of thing lol

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

My dog, he’s my best friend

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

Both! Probably more shy, but I can be outgoing. I am an introvert 

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

My cousins! Though who knows when I’ll see them. They’re major flakes. I always look forward to seeing my niece, as well. I am also looking forward to seeing the love of my life, but who knows when that’ll be!

4. Are you easy to get along with?

I think so, yes. I try to relate to others and make jokes involving them, so people usually chat with me. But I can be stubborn and annoying so :P

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

Owen Teague? Babe? Want to come take care of me? Just kidding. But I don’t know who I like right now, and if I did like them I don’t think they would unless I was with them? I don’t know, it is doubtful. 

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

Oh god, edgy boys hahaha. Adam Driver and Owen Teague are excellent examples. But I like fun people who like to joke around and don’t take life too seriously.... but also know what their goals are and stuff

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

I fucking hope so, but I doubt it. I don’t get out much, and I need to work on myself more. But I really would like a relationship because I’m needy and lonely.

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

Owen, Adam 

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

Depends who with. My mom and her boyfriend? Yes, most definitely. With my best friend? Nope. We talk about it all the time lmao

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? 

Hm, probably my best friend/cousin

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

“it wouldn’t take long but it’s just a matter of me doing it” and “I mean... yes. I was just adding what I thought was a funny point”

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

be calm - fun. (back into fun. currently lol)

bae - the front bottoms

the beers - the front bottoms

all my heroes - bleachers

take your time (coming home) - fun.

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

yes! it feels great

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

yes, unfortunately. but with a grain of salt, I guess

15. What good thing happened this summer?

I went to Germany! 

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

Never been kissed :,(

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

Answered this previously - but yes

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

No lmao that was kindergarten or preschool

19. Do you like bubble baths?

I like the idea of them, I don’t like that I 1. don’t have bubble bath stuff and 2. the soap just stays on your body unless you shower after

20. Do you like your neighbors?

No, and I wish I did. But they’re douchey and nosey and annoying 

21. What are you bad habits?

cracking knuckles!

22. Where would you like to travel?

Europe! Scotland specifically

23. Do you have trust issues?

Yes but I also just tell people randomly really deep things about myself and it is a Problem

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

The moment when you find the perfect place on the pillow and you’re perfectly comfortable and ready to go to sleep. And the last few moments of being awake. Love the feeling of absolute exhaustion 

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

My stomach Lol but I imagine if I was happy with it I’d just be uncomfortable with something else. Also really hating my skin right now... I’ve been taking great care of it and it has gone to SHIT. But I also think I figured out why

26. What do you do when you wake up?

Well recently I’ve been messing around on my phone then falling back asleep for another hour+. but usually brush my teeth after checking my phone

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

I am content with my extremely pale ass skin, but I wish it was clearer Lol

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

My best friend/cousin, I guess, but still not completely comfortable with her

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

Don’t have any ex’s because I’ve never dated anyone !

30. Do you ever want to get married?

Very badly and it hurts me. I just want to love someone, y’know?

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail?

Yes, but like 1/4-1/2 of it falls out. It is a Look

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

Owen Teague and Adam Driver :-D

33. Spell your name with your chin.

0-pasioge

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

Not since middle school, but I played soccer

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

No TV, I think. I’d be content with books. Especially if TV meant cable because I never ever watch cable but I do watch netflix

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

fuck yes

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

some embarrassing ass shit

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

not to be ~that person~ but owen teague is my ideal man. He plays instruments, loves to read, is in a band, is a photography, is an artist, and a successful actor, with his life pretty much made. And he is so attractive, like, my type of attractive. and is a Sagittarius! but generally I look for someone who is kind and funny, smart, likes to read and gets invested into stories/shows/movies, has interests deeper than day-to-day stuff, and has some sort of plan or course of action for their future. But being in a band is a huge bonus

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

Costco, Target, michael’s, walmart because there is weird shit there for cheap

40. What do you want to do after high school?

well I’m out of high school, and I’m doing nothing.... so nothing? :P

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

Depends on the person, so I guess I don’t believe that. But I believe in second chances

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?

I’m upset in some way but I don’t want to confront it myself because I hate confrontation. or I’m tired

43. Do you smile at strangers?

yes

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

answered this in more depth in the last post, but ocean

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

coffee! and day plans. things I’m invested in, like puzzles or seeing people

46. What are you paranoid about?

life plans, a career path, if i’ll be successful, what my friends and others think of me, me being a failure, etc

47. Have you ever been high?

yep! for the first time this year a few weeks ago

48. Have you ever been drunk?

yep! in mexico a few years ago and in Germany over summer

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

well I hope my mom doesn’t find out about me smoking weed until I move out Lol

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

blue! I’m wearing it now

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

all the time!

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

size

53. Favourite makeup brand?

don’t really wear makeup, but i like elf and nyx

54. Favourite store?

costco! and target

55. Favourite blog?

i’m not sure, i don’t know that many

56. Favourite colour?

navy blue/indigo

57. Favourite food?

hamburgers  

58. Last thing you ate?

mac and cheese

59. First thing you ate this morning?

coffee because i’m an animal

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

yes, for a stuff bear at the fair. his name is bearemy

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

nope

62. Been arrested? For what?

nope

63. Ever been in love? 

i use the phrase “love of my life” but no

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

hasn’t happened ;(

65. Are you hungry right now?

nada

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

i only have so many, but they’re currently talking to me so yes

67. Facebook or Twitter?

twitter

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

right now tumblr, but i’ve used twitter more

69. Are you watching tv right now?

no

70. Names of your bestfriends? 

hayley

71. Craving something? What?

chocolate milk

72. What colour are your towels?

navy blue, blue, and white

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

6 :P

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

yes

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

a lot. like three on my bed.... probably 10 ish total?

75. Favourite animal?

snails and otters

76. What colour is your underwear?

pink

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

chocolate

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

rocky road or chocolate chip cookie dough

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

black with white ringers 

80. What colour pants?

light purple with dark purple dots (theyre pjs)

81. Favourite tv show?

atypical, game of thrones, idk

82. Favourite movie?

hercules and labyrinth 

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

never seen them

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

never seen either

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

do not know

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

i like the whale shark from finding dory. but i guess the “you just made me ink!” octopus is cute

87. First person you talked to today?

my mama

88. Last person you talked to today?

my friend mik

89. Name a person you hate?

peyton >:(

90. Name a person you love?

my niece, nova

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

not particularly

92. In a fight with someone?

not that i know of? but everyone i know is ignoring me lmao

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

one, but many other comfy pants

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

sooooooo fucking many

95. Last movie you watched?

some shit christmas kids movie

96. Favourite actress?

hm, don’t think i have one

97. Favourite actor?

owen teague, adam driver, are you shocked?

98. Do you tan a lot?

no the sun hurts you

99. Have any pets?

yes i have one dog, bo, and my mom has a bunch of pets

100. How are you feeling?

entertained

101. Do you type fast?

yes i was forced into a class on typing. but even if i wasn’t i would be a fast typer i imagine

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

i regret not making out with my old coworker even though it wouldve been weird lmao

103. Can you spell well?

yes i can

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

i miss my aunt julie and uncle schad, but i never knew them. and my grandpa

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

yep, but not any fun ones. mostly from being stuck with my dad

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

not that i know of

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

yes and i have a strong dislike towards them

108. What should you be doing?

helping my mom clean for christmas, cleaning my room, sleeping, working on christmas gifts

109. Is something irritating you right now?

my friend seems to be angry with me for no reason. and my best friend is not talkign to me at all for some reason ??

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

@ owen 

111. Do you have trust issues?

i think i answered this maybe? but yes i just impulsively tell people things lol

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

my best friend probably

113. What was your childhood nickname?

my dad called/calls me mooncricket. my sister called me paigey wedgie

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

yep! many times

115. Do you play the Wii?

yessss, animal crossing city folk changed my life. been using the wiiu nowadays though

116. Are you listening to music right now?

yep, the front bottoms - don’t fill up on chips

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

yes but mostly when its homemade

118. Do you like Chinese food?

FUCK YES!!

119. Favourite book?

i don’t particularly have one, idk

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

yes

121. Are you mean?

i can be, unfortunately. but i have been making it a point to be nice and not judgmental (but still workin on it)

122. Is cheating ever okay?

nope

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

not with my goddamn doof of a dog

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

maybe with food. or with owen teague lmao

125. Do you believe in true love?

yes i am a huge cheesy romantic

126. Are you currently bored?

not so much anymore

127. What makes you happy?

my dog, owen and adam, jack antonoff, my favorite people, the cute tumblr peeps i talk to

128. Would you change your name?

no i dont think so. paige is kind of a basic name but i havent met many paige’s

129. What your zodiac sign?

aries!

130. Do you like subway?

yes. oven roasted chicken breast is good shit

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

we’re fuckin

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

this q was literally number 10 on this list

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

hm.....

-if youre lonely, lonely, lonely wake me

-so come on, motherfucker, you survived you gotta give yourself a break

-there’s no love like apathy

134. Can you count to one million?

i have never tried and i don’t think i want to

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

i don’t think i can remember any lie. maybe just a small lie??

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

closed, otherwise my dogs would break in

137. How tall are you?

5′7

138. Curly or Straight hair?

i have wavy, but i don’t mind either way

139. Brunette or Blonde?

i’m brunette, and i like brunettes

140. Summer or Winter?

winter!

141. Night or Day?

night

142. Favourite month?

april because i’m basic and it’s my bday month

143. Are you a vegetarian?

nada

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

milk. but white chocolate mochas? 10/10

145. Tea or Coffee?

both! but i drink coffee more

146. Was today a good day?

yes, pretty basic, but good

147. Mars or Snickers?

snickers, though i don’t particularly like either to any extreme

148. What’s your favourite quote?

oof.... the first one i can think of is “i don’t know where i’m going from here but i can promise it won’t be boring” -bowie, but idk if its a fav

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

i answered this more in depth before, but yes

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? 

“moaning, strangled sound and I have to be quick to awaken her and hold her...”

wow i made it

[andonewillbringhisfall]

Deepest Darkest Secret

This is the last chapter! Thankyou so much if you’ve made it this far, I can’t express enough what it means to me to know that people are reading and enjoying my writing. And to the people who said such nice things and freaked out in the comments, the greatest thing for me is knowing that I’ve made you feel something, so thankyou. I love you.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21

Chapter 22. Simon.

‘Light a match inside your heart,’ Baz says, ‘and blow on the tinder.’

I stare at the cup of tea in front of me, concentrating.

‘Some like it hot,’ I cast. I feel it – the match, the spark, or whatever Baz thinks magic should feel like – but it’s not enough.

Before, if I tried to cast a simple spell like this, I’d worry about setting the room on fire, or at least cracking the mug. Now my magic feels so faint that I can’t even channel it into this one little thing. Baz says I just need to learn how to use it the way everyone else does. Basically I have to start from scratch. I can’t even do things that most eight-year-old mages know how to do.

‘Try it,’ Baz commands, pointing to the cup.

‘What’s the point?’ I grumble, though I take a sip anyway. It’s lukewarm, which is probably an improvement over how it was before, but not by much. ‘I know it didn’t work. I can tell.’

‘Again,’ Baz says. He’s sitting on his bed, arms crossed over his chest. The tea is on the bedside table between us.

I sigh. ‘Baz, we’ve been doing this all day, it’s not going to work –’

‘Again,’ he says.

‘Fine.’ I point my wand at the teacup. ‘Some like it hot! It’s fucking useless.’ I throw my wand on my bed and it rolls off onto the floor.

‘Snow, calm down,’ Baz says. ‘Concentrate.’

‘I’ve been concentrating. I’m done, okay? I’m tired. Leave me alone.’ I know I shouldn’t growl at him. I know he’s doing this for me, to help me, even though there’s nothing in it for him and I’m a terrible student. He just sits there looking perfect and calm and I keep botching up spell after spell. It’s embarrassing.

‘Fine,’ Baz says. ‘If you’re going to be difficult – fine. It’s your life.’ He gets up and stalks out of the room.

I don’t know why he cares so much. Maybe he doesn’t want a hopeless ex-Chosen One, ex-Humdrum who can’t even do magic for a soulmate.

*

I’ve started thinking about it again. I mean, about him. Baz.

I know that he was always telling the truth and that he never tried to hurt me. His family knows I’m not the Greatest Mage anymore, so I know they won’t try to kill me, and nobody will ever be able to make me hurt him for the sake of a war that isn’t going to happen.

I wasn’t ready to think about it, or to talk about it with Baz, for weeks after everything happened. I’ve only just gotten used to the idea that the Mage is my father. I’ve only just stopped waking up screaming thinking I’ve lost all my magic. I’m still working on not blaming myself for the Humdrum.

But now that everything’s starting to settle down and my life at Watford almost feels normal (minus the magic that was always just within my reach, just under my fingertips), I’m thinking about it again. I know I have feelings for him. I know I want him to kiss me again. It’s just that… I might not be the Mage’s Heir anymore, but I’m the Mage’s son. I’m not the same person I was when he realised I was his soulmate. It’s not fair to expect him to still want me.

*

‘I think you can’t use magic because you don’t believe in it,’ Baz says.

‘What the fuck does that mean?’

‘It means you don’t think you can do it,’ he says.

‘No, you’re right,’ I spit, dropping my wand and the pencil I’m supposed to be levitating. ‘I don’t think I can do it. Are you happy?’

‘No,’ Baz says. ‘Crowley, I’ve been working with you on this for hours, and we’ve gotten nowhere, why would I be happy?’

‘There, see?’ I say, pointing in his face. He shoves my hand away. ‘You don’t believe I can do it either.’

‘Snow,’ Baz warns. ‘Don’t you dare tell me what I believe –’

‘You don’t. You know I can’t. Now that I’m not the Chosen One, I’m not good for anything, right? My own father thought so, why shouldn’t you?’

‘Snow.’

‘Fuck this,’ I say, rushing towards the door. ‘Fuck you.’

*

I’ve calmed down by evening, and now my frustration is turning into panic. He’s just trying to help me, and I keep driving him away and saying shit that I don’t mean. He’s been so patient. And I am getting better, a little bit. I need his help. I need him.

He doesn’t try to talk to me when I finally talk myself into going back. We both get ready for bed in silence. I know I should apologise, but I don’t know what to say. I feel like I’m just going to fuck it up if I try.

We’re both lying in bed, with the lights out and the window open (we’ve gotten used to having it like this, we stopped fighting about it years ago), when he breaks the silence.

‘Simon?’ he asks softly. ‘Are you awake?’

‘Yeah,’ I whisper, turning my head to him. I can’t see anything in the dark, but I imagine that he’s looking at me too.

‘There’s something I need to say to you,’ he says. ‘And I want you to just listen.’

I breathe in as quietly as I can. (What is it? I wish I knew what he’s thinking.)

‘Okay, Simon?’ he says. ‘Just listen.’

I nod. I know he can see me, with his vampire senses. He told me that a while ago. (When we were together.)

‘I’m not saying this because I want something from you,’ he says. ‘I don’t expect – I don’t know. I’m only saying it because I think it’s important that you know.’

I lean forward, inching towards the edge of my bed.

‘I know that you think the Mage gave you away because he didn’t want you, or because you weren’t good enough,’ he continues, his voice low. ‘And I can’t imagine what it feels like – growing up in homes – without anyone to really take care of you. Or –’ He swallows. ‘To love you.’

He’s quiet, and I hold my breath.

‘I just don’t want you to think that you’re unlovable, or that you don’t deserve love,’ he whispers. ‘Because you’re wonderful, Simon, and brave and selfless, and you deserve everything. You – you’re the sun.’

The sun. I almost laugh, because if I was like the sun before, I’m nothing now, and how can he –

But he’s not finished.

‘So I just need you to know that I love you.’

I think I’m crying, a little bit. Whatever he’s trying to do, it’s working. Because I know he means it, because I can hear it in his voice, because he’s the one who had the most reason to hate me.

And he says he loves me.

‘Baz –’ I stop, sniffling. ‘I – Baz –’

‘I don’t want you to say it back,’ he says. ‘I don’t expect –’

‘Baz,’ I try again.

‘You don’t have to say anything.’

‘Baz,’ I say. ‘I love you too. I do. I love you. You’re my soulmate.’

‘I know we’re soulmates, but that’s not why –’

‘It’s not why for me, either,’ I say.

I feel it now. The magic. Not the way it was before, and maybe it’s a different kind of magic that I’m feeling right now, but I think I could cast a spell if I wanted to.

Or not. Maybe I’m just confusing this other thing – love – with magic. It doesn’t matter. I’ll practice the same spells over and over again for months on end if I have to. I’ll make him so proud of me.

I get to my feet and take my wand off the nightstand. ‘Twinkle twinkle little star,’ I whisper.

And we kiss under the light of the stars.

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS 2020: BRIT AWARDS SPECIAL

So, welcome to... a Tuesday? Yeah, it’s not exactly a usual time for me to post on this blog but it’s not just your everyday episode of REVIEWING THE CHARTS – That’s right, it’s the 40th ceremony in the annual BRIT Awards celebration, where we – or at least ITV – commemorate the greatest in British pop music. I’ll be celebrating in full force this year, but not by tweeting manically like I did last year – well, there will still be some tweeting; follow me @cactusinthebank – but instead by writing my live commentary right here. I did this a couple years back so I figured I’d bring it back again in traditional, over-analytical, unnecessarily nitpicky fashion. I’ve got an Excel document like I had last year to make not of who wins and compare it to who I think should win. I’m all prepared – it’s time for the 2020 BRIT Awards... unfortunately hosted by Jack Whitehall.

COMMENTARY

Interestingly (This is 10 minutes before the show begins), the International Group Award, Best British Video, Outstanding Contribution to Music and Global Success Awards have been abolished, and British Breakthrough Act, Critics’ Choice Award and British Single of the Year have all been renamed. Also, the BRITs caught flack for less female artists being nominated although last year there was a record amount nominated so I feel like sexism claims can’t really ring all that true in my opinion. It does often seem like male artists have dominated that year of pop music, just as it feel female artists have the previous year, and the BRITs have noticed that, so it just feels a tad lop-sided towards the males this year. I’m playing Devil’s advocate, sure, and I wouldn’t say 2019 has been a bad year for British women in music, but I am able to somewhat defend this decision. I feel like I’d just say that as a little pre-amble. In fact, I’ll add this: this will be less formal and grammatically correct than a normal RTC episode, and perhaps a bit less wholesome or family-friendly. Also, if none of this makes any sense, that’s because it’s out of context completely, and this will make absolutely no sense unless you’re watching it with me or had watched it prior to reading this, but that’s the joy in this! Scorecard at the ready, 19:58, it’s the BRITs in two minutes, and I am prepared to make fun of every issue I pick out.

Jack Whitehall is so unfunny lol Like Haha She Is Cleaning Lizzo Flute But He Look Like Masturbate Ha Ha

I feel like they did not know what they should do for this year

The intro with him trying out iconic BRIT Awards outfits is kinda cool actually

I wonder how far into the future they plan for these. Like are these skits pre-recorded by three months or so

Mabel didn’t really hit that note huh

I won’t really be paying attention to this one because I’m filling out scorecard and all to update it for this year but Mabel is less energetic than she was on the Graham Norton Show months ago

Can’t tell if Don’t Call Me Up has soured on me a lot or this is just a bad performance. Probably the latter

Is this the vocal loop from Mad Love or something I don’t recognise it

Nevermind I’m so dumb it’s from Don’t Call Me Up

The telephone on the screen Because Ha Ha She Says Call Me Up is a bit on the nose

I don’t think they realise she also has a song called Ring Ring

“Please welcome your host Jack Whitehall” No go away

Audience did not like the Boris Johnson joke or even the Chris Martin one lol this gnarly dude is BOMBING

Rod Stewart has eight children what the f

“Horny scarecrow of rock and roll Ronnie Wood” I hope that is on his CV

“A bit of witty banter from Dave” Jack Whitehall Shouted Out The TV Channel Dave

Lewis Capaldi – Someone You Loved genuinely makes me want to eat a living frog this live version is better though he’s not straining that much

I saw a BBC News piece on a boy with cancer and this was used in the background and I understand it’s a sad, sappy piano ballad but it’s literally just about a break up like that’s a tad unfitting and kinda undermines the illness and tragedy surely

Niall Horan looks SO infused

The production value for these little transitions seems to have improved it actually looks cool and not dated garbage

Lewis Capaldi will win Best New Artist

Lewis Capaldi won Best New Artist

It’s his first BRIT Award but what’s the point in celebrating he’s gonna win like seven more

Dude is coming up to the stage with a bottle of beer in his hand bruh

I bet this dude is going to be the Adele and just get drunk and swear every time he gets an award

He hugged Niall Horan for a concerning amount of time

The audience chanted ‘DOWN IT DOWN IT’ he did not down it

He just shouted profanities into the mic after 40 seconds of delaying it, but the audio was muted so I have no idea why Jack Whitehall Loves This Man

Lewis Capaldi’s music and personality clash so hard like I saw an advert of this man making funny faces set to Someone You Loved and it was so odd

That advert played right after the BRITs by the way lol

Why is Lewis Capaldi on another advert singing Someone You Loved again like stop stop stop pelase i ccant getsv awytsuavforrnjeofityre

JHE’S BACK FOR ANOTHER ADVERT GO AWAY YOU DRUNKEN IDIOT

Why would Mastercard proudly sponsor this sh

How the hell is FKA twigs nominated for best female artist like cool and all her album was good but Huh

I guess they put one alternate win each time

Mabel will win Best Female Solo Artist

Mabel won Best Female Solo Artist

Oh yeah I forgot people actually make speeches

“There are so many amazing women in this category” Mabel Listens To FKA Twigs

Don’t thank your record label they are crooks

I forget that Mabel is Neneh Cherry’s daughter that’s wild. Neneh Cherry won a BRIT too, I think this same award. Cool. Neat.

Jack Whitehall’s sarcasm and dryer wit is not exactly the best fit for the BRITs. For once I miss Ant & Dec

Harry Styles Is Literally Wearing Pajamas

This is an ok song and with actually good vocal mixing it’s better but he does sound a bit off. He did get robbed before the awards happened though lol

I am sick of guys singing ballads with a e s t h e t i c backgrounds like can we get some volcano eruptions up in this

The Rising Star and British Producer Awards (new awards) were already given out I feel like cheating

Literally the only nomination for the British Producer of the Year was fred

He won

Another break bruh bruh bruh give me a break

Harry Styles’ Pajamas Are Wet Now He Was Standing In Water

Little simz is on an advert afterwards with an amazing song from her amazing album but she’s not nominated for any award

Im so tired like this shit is keeping me awake last year i fell asleep during a jess glynne performance

Liam payne performed a month before the ceremony and his album fell 31 places on the chart in response

Jack Whitehall called himself a lanky streak of piss this man might get an Ofcom Complaint

Lizzo’s really pushing that title track huh

Lizzo didn’t censor herself on the Grammys but her breathy ‘uh’s are making some lines unintelligible lol

This is a good song though

LOL SHE STOPPED FOR THE AUDIENCE TO CONTINUE HER SENTENCE BUT NOBODY SAID THE LINE YIKES

I guess she forgot Truth Hurts didn’t even peak in the top 20 here

Good as Hell is the one people here care about

She knows that they didn’t respond in Truth Hurts because she said ‘sing along if you know it’ lol

She kinda messed up but to be fair she is walking and singing with the audience

That White Guy With The Crap Hair Killed It

Drummer is going wild

I love the extra guitar flourishes in Juice this is pretty cool actually, her interpolating Cause I Love You at the same time is pretty epic this actually sounds pretty great I’d love for this whole medley to be on streaming

She yelled ‘biiitch’ but the mic did not catch that

Ronnie Wood Really Got The Positive Vibes

Lewis Capaldi will win Best Male Solo Artist

(Michael Kiwanuka got like no applause god damn at least give them pity applause)

ROIGHT and tha winna ***upside down*** is STRORMZY

Stormzy won Best Male Solo Artist

(Second time by the way)

Clean version of Vossi Bop kinda slap Ngl

Stormzy TOWERS over Ronnie Wood lol dude is tall

“Um.”

“Best Male is nothing without incredible females” Cool cool

Ronnie is about to tell Stormzy why he thinks he should go back to his own country and that He’s Not Actually Racist

(Those allegations are baseless. My lawyers advised me to say so.)

Jack Whitehall touched audience feet

We’re already nearly an hour in wow

WHY ARE THERE SO MANY ADVERT BREAKS

Yes Yes

Hell yeah dave is awesome, he got his Top Boy co-star to work as a hype man before him

I think this is Black? If so that’s amazing I love that song

It’s Black he has it written on his white piano

The only white piano is slowly turning more black

I like the headlines and all the imagery on the piano it’s really cool

Dave is a tad off beat but he’s also playing a double-sided piano so understandable

A white dude is playing the other side of the piano I’m sure that’s symbolic

He is aggressive in this delivery damn he’s killing it

Some of this imagery is beautiful – especially the BRIT Award being covered by black snakes and the Arabic writing transitioning into an Africa with colonial borders

This was an amazing performance, especially with the violins. Incredible.

OH THERE’S ANOTHER VERSE ABOUT BORIS JOHNSON

The least racist is still racist damn right

This works as an obituary as well damn.

I’d have to analyse this whole thing but this was an incredible performance oh my god

I want this on streaming

When did this man help a terrorist plot wh

Paloma Faith Sounds Like A Robot Who Is Vaguely Feminist

Burna Boy will win International Male Solo Artist

(I so want Tyler to go home with it though. Could go to Post as well)

It’s just whoever shows up gets it though so

WHOA

WHAT THE HELL

TYLER THE CREATOR WON HOW

TAHT IS AMSGWYUFE

THE RADIO HOST SAID IGOR WRONG BUT ITS OK TYLER WON

Tyler, The Creator won International Male Solo Artist

This gnarly dude just said ‘errr yeah errr’

“Shout out to all the British funk from the 80s I try to copy”

LOL THE THERESA MAY CALL OUT HAHAH

I FORGOT HE WASNT ALLOWED IN THE UK

Bts is not a british group, presenter

Coldplay will win Best British Group

Foals won Best British Group

I am actually so surprised lol at Tyler and Foals winning their first BRITs

More alternative dudes winning I guess. Neat. Means a lot

Stop thanking your corrupt labels

The name’s eyelash

I haven’t actually heard her Bond theme yet

Finneas do be lookin kinda handsome tho

I like it. The whispery tone of her voice, the eerie strings (cello?), and slick guitar really fit the Bond franchise. Thank you Billie Eilish, very cool!

No Don’t Talk To Lizzo Don’t Talk To Anyone Jack Whitehall

“There was so much energy they could have done the whole performance for me” well not exactly mrs. Lizzo

This is so awkward we can’t hear what Lizzo is laughing at Harry Styles looks pissed

‘floutists’ is the name for flute players huh

I’m so confused what is going on

Lizzo is threatening jack Whitehall with a flute and within the transition to the break i could hear a slight faint shout from jack in the background

Is everyone ok

More people that i wanted to win than who i expected to win are winning

Sam Fender is haha funnie but nobody in the audience thinks so lol

Celeste is performing she’s the new Rising Star award she has already had a bit of a crack but I’m pretty sure that’s part of the song

This song is ok

Bit boring tbh. Audience is getting tired too. This is lasting like 5 minutes and the song is pretty flavourless and repetitive. Yawn snore

We’re about half way through and I’ve kind of lost interest ngl

Honestly lewis capaldi did better than celeste on jah

Jack Whitehall is having a mental breakdown right now. Understandable

Billie Eilish will win International Female Solo Artist

Billie Eilish won International Female Solo Artist

Lizzo looks so disappointed for whatever reason lol like did we really think anyone else would get this award

Sporty Spice is in the background dancing to everything i wanted that is not a song you dance like that to it’s about suicide

This speech is going terribly

Why are so many of these gnarly dudes signed to polydor

Thank you Billie Eilish very cool

No Jack Whitehall Don’t Talk To Harry Styles

Harry Styles looks like he hates Jack Whitehall so much

The Lizzo-Harry-Jack Whitehall love triangle is Awkward And Awful

Lizzo is the only reason the brit awards are good

Ok the exchange about Harry Styles not being taken seriously was pretty funny

In fact this whole exchange was very funny And Partially About Incest

“Is one of these lucky ladies your date?” “That’s my sister”

Lizzo is chugging the tequila

Harry Styles Looks Like He Pissed Himself

The BRIT awards have suddenly become very confusing

Epic Stormzy Time

Genuinely have no idea what song he’ll perform. Probably Vossi Bop?

Stormzy Should Keep The Singing To His Backing Vocalist And Choir

Gospel beat sounds sweet

I think this is supposed to be Lessons but the studio version is so much duller than this version. This one is pretty cool. I think it’s the choir

I’d be surprised if he only does Lessons. Also the production value here was crazy. Full band, pyrotechnics and all.

Oh yeah it’s Vossi Bop time he’s got the red lighting

Nevermind it’s Wiley Flow lol but still

Reminds me of when Kanye did All Day (also the audio got muted for a long period of time just like when Kanye did that)

This one is more choreographed though lol

Why did he perform two of the least popular songs first though

Burna Boy is coming out for Own It alright, he sounds just as good as studio, probably because He’s Not Actually Singing

I don’t like this song but the choreography is great, stage presence is good and the visuals are incredible. Really shows that even with the worst material, you can make a song sound as lively as ever. The horns the live band added to Own It sound beautiful

Burna Boy’s little solo bit was great

He got away with saying “Sucking on their mums” nice

I hadn’t heard Rainfall before this I don’t think (it sounds familiar though), but the mashup with Praise You was great. I love the sight of Stormzy in front of family members, the young men in black outfits from Wiley Flow, the tropical clothes-bearing women from Own It, Burna Boy, the live band, and all. It’s really a nice diverse sight to see. Cool cool. This probably means absolutely nothing but I Am Knackered

Someone You Loved will win Song of the Year

I really hope it’s Ladbroke Grove though. It and Location feel very emblematic of 2019, in a way that I Don’t Care by Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber DEFINITELY isn’t

Someone You Loved won Song of the Year

“Biggest winner of the night so far” there’s only one award left mate

Lewis Capaldi Is A Very Funny Man

“Thanks to my grandmother for dying”

Finneas do be lookin kinda handsome tho [2]

Heard a very british voice say “i luv yoo bilie” in the audience lmao

Lewis Capaldi will win Album of the Year

I’d prefer literally anyone else to win this award. Only one of these albums was a 7/10 or above but Lewis Capaldi’s album was unlistenable

OH HELL YEAH THE ONLY GOOD ONE WON

Dave won Album of the Year

Epic I love that album. It could very well have been Capaldi but since Dave won the Mercury Prize I guess he would have been a better prediction

People are screaming man’s lost for words

“Jesus Christ!” dude’s so astonished lol

I loved Dave’s speech actually very inspiring

“Jack, I’m gonna do this one for your mum, Hilary” bruh  rod stewart really saying ‘ur mom’ jokes out here

I love Rod Stewart’s raspy voice man. Orchestra’s great. This is beautiful lol

Gnarly dude got the guitar solo

Conclusion

I cannot be bothered to write some massive conclusion but most of the performances were great and emotionally powerful, especially Stormzy, Dave, Billie and Rod Stewart, and even those who were a bit crap performing were very funny on stage, like Lewis Capaldi. The on stage banter was really cringe-worthy but Jack Whitehall, Harry Styles and Lizzo had this really funny triangle going on. The outro with Ronnie Wood and the rest of Rod Stewart’s band was great, Stormzy’s extended performance was sweet. This was actually a pretty great BRITs, to be honest, and all of the winners, except a select few, deserved it, and if they didn’t, it was pretty expected. There could have been some more winners – off the top of my head, Slowthai and Little Simz weren’t even nominated, but hey, Tyler won. That’s great. The scorecard will be on Twitter. In the words of the BRIT Award winners in 2020, “errr yeah errr”, and thanks for reading!

REVIEWING THE CHARTS 2020

[sdheath]

108. The Unbearable Madness of Being

This is a long one. But worth getting to the end. Nothing makes us suffer more than our own minds. The first part is a poem - the second is a rough transcript about a young drug addict and schizophrenic called Richard. This is all about his struggle against delusion and psychosis - his struggle to live and to die

"Dekay of timber, lead and glass The Great Hall is fallen down Ruyne of this castell is compleet” Thomas Manners, 1st Earl of Rutland, 1538, talking about Nottingham Castle A winter of speed and ice-cold vodka hidden behind the skip, in a cleaner’s bucket cooled by the falling snow. Yes, he was lonely but never left alone. His gods told him things: a constant stream of the ways things should be. Even in his dreams, he sat amongst them, always, on the fringes of underworld society learning about real power.

Heroin, when he could get it, flicking syringes and tightening belts and dirty yellow rubber tubes; sitting in a council flat that had slowly spiralled, and come to mean nothing to him but somewhere to negate the pull of gravity - somewhere to stub out your fags - line up the lager cans. And under the bed he keeps the only fragments of his life left Like his precious Wilson Staff 100 junior His stroke is still text book - and being a small man the raquet still does him well and photos - I don’t know who made me smile like that I look like a little demon - somebody was making me happy And the scar - like a sepia map of the Australia only visible when his hair was shaved closely. In and out of the fortress - always on the suicide watch He wants to kill himself but not because he is sad His gods promise him a crown on Boxing day They say the deadline is immovable - prepare a way That’s all they seem to care about Prepare a way and we will make you King Consequently - in the walls of the fortress Richard feels quite perky - looking forward to Christmas But he needs to win a game with his warders before they’ll let him home His Christmas gifts for his mum and his nan are cheap but thoughtful For Richard the boiling oil came from someone he should be able to trust not tipped from above the portcullis - but from a chip pan by a stepfather one of a long long line of men his mother needed for the drugs/drink/rent

Richard's story

“Things aren’t going to well. Hopefully I’ll heal and get away from the drugs” He threatened someone with a (neighbour) with a knife and assaulted a nurse - put in the Willows - intensive care ward for psychiatric patients.

Richard believes everyone can hear voices but nobody will admit it to him

“The gods won’t let me brush my teeth - I pulled this girl in a night club - she kissed me - “Wait a minute I don’t want to know you - your breath stinks”. But the gods won’t let me wash your teeth.”

He has hallucinations, hears voices and his thinking is delusional. Believes in the gods and their words with the conviction that anyone believes their own thoughts. Since 19 (listens to his gods). Talking to psychiatrist:

“Life is mad - noone else in the history of time is like me … gods will give me spirit to rule England. I’m going to get four bags into the syringe and try and get them into my arm. If I die and end up in hell then I’ll be happy. Now if I take it and I don’t die and I wake up the next day - it’ll mean the gods are messing me about - because the gods have told me that I’m going to hell on Christmas day - hell for me would be great - so if I wake up Boxing day and I’m not dead and I’m not in hell I’ll be right pissed off because that just means everything is fucked, do you know what I mean?”

“When I was young and my mum had a boyfriend and they were both pissed - he was six - scared shitless - threw it at his mum - his mum was scared you see - she didn’t want to get beaten up - the guy who did it didn’t want to leave the house - she got him to hospital eventually”

Richard looking at a photo of himself when he was a young boy

“Better looking when I was younger - at 5 - looked stocky - went on holiday - you looked like a happy kid - yeah I was on holiday - it was good time -  crikey - I look different there - I’ve got a fish. Crikey I don’t know who that is making me smile like that. i look like a little demon. This is me when I was about nine or ten - my eyes look a bit tired - that’s me when I was about twelve - this is me on holiday - I worked out a bit there - you can see my chest is a bit bigger - I liked it on holiday - it was nice. 

Were you happy at that age?

Long pause: “I think so yeah. I was abused when I was at secondary school - once I was abused my school time wasn’t very good because I knew that people knew. Abused sexually by the head teacher - didn’t tell the head - should have done really. 14 if you do it at the age of 14 then society tends to say that it’s your fault - your advanced enough - but I wasn’t - I hadn’t had a girl friend.”

A few months later - just before being forced back (sectioned) into a mental hospital

“I was awake all night - I had some speed - it was good - so I had some more. At some point I’ll stick the needle in my arm and I’ll wake up in hell hopefully.

Everybody knows there’s an afterlife - everybody knows there’s a hell and a heaven. I could take this overdose and go to hell and get loads of spirit and when I get out of hell I’ll be king of england and then one day I’ll be master of the  universe.h

In hospital for more than 4 months. Richard’s home is a flat - housing association - but hasn’t been home since he was sectioned. Going with a member of staff to collect his mail. The flat is filthy - covered in beer cans, syringes and general squalor. Richard is visibly ashamed.

“Bloody hell - excuse me it’s really really lousy in here. Someone must have broken in and when they couldn’t find anything - obviously I’m not happy about the state of my flat. It’s usually untidy but it aint like this - somebody’s broken in and sorted it for money. Strange even thought it looks the state it does it still seems like home. Only take a couple of hours tops to tidy it up. Someone’s been having heroin or crack - now this is probably one of my oldest possessions - think of that what you will - and this is a Wilson staff 100 junior - I’m only a small bloke so I don’t a full size racket - no pun intended - I miss playing tennis.”

After leaving hospital he tries to overdose - put it in his arm - 30 seconds and he passed out. Was not alone. Next time - on Christmas Day he will make sure that he is on his own. He talks to his psychiatrist - faking a positive outlook.

“Let’s face it there’s no such thing as the afterlife - when you’ve lived your life you’ve lived your live. The idea that I would become superior in the afterlife is nonsense. There’s no such as an afterlife. I want to get out there and pull a chick - I want to make my grandmother a great grandmother. I’ve got no intention to commit suicide - I want to live life.”

As Christmas approaches Richard talks to the camera

“It’s a bit annoying to be moved to this ward.”

Paranoid that the nurses were taking energy from him. Shouting at nurses. 

“At Christmas I’m going to take a heroin overdose and die - I’ll be honest - I’ll say I feel fine - say I’m happy - I’m not going to commit suicide - I’ll get out of hospital and go an do it.”

Despite his plans to kill himself he’s feeling festive. He goes into Bulwell (Nottinghamshire).

 “It’s only a small shopping centre but has three pound shops and 3 charity shops - it’s wicked - y’know what I mean. This - you know sometimes you don’t get a present because you think about it sometimes something just jumps out at you. Well at the time it just jumped out at me - it’s like I like the design the aluminium and plastic but the problem is - it’s, like, a whisk. Why’s he bought me a bloody whisk but she’s stopped drinking and she’s not eating that much she needs to do more cooking - so that’s why I bought mum a whisk and this - the only way to get alcohol into my gran is in liquer chocolates so I’m going to forcefeed gran liqueur chocolates all day Christmas and see if I can get gran pissed. Wraps presents. Apparently you should have a glass of wine and some music -

After another session with the psychiatrist.

I talked to them about my gods - and they wouldn’t let me out - so I decided not to talk to them about my voices and hopefully people will think I’m a bit more sane. Doesn’t look that way - not home for christmas - maybe a couple of hours to give my family their presents and open mine. I was reading a book by the Dalai Llama that tells you to think of those worse off than you. I get food and a fair bit of money that’s good - but not everything is good. Basically yeah I ‘ll commit suicide when I get a chance to. Not at Christmas - yeah I’ve been told that I can do it anytime after Christmas and go to hell - whenever they let me out I’ll just commit suicide - that’s the good thing - usually I have to wait until Christmas. To get big in spirit and train to become a king. So that’s the good side of things at the moment. Doesn’t have to be at Christmas. 

Your gods have told you that have they? 

“Yeah. Sometimes I wish that I didn’t have gods - makes things difficult. But what am I meant to do? 

I’m looking for another word for shopping - give me another word for shopping.”

Why do you need another word - BIG LAUGHTER

“I dunno - BIG LAUGH - why why does the snow fall on the grass?

Is that it - yeah - is that - do you know when you’re filming do you reach a pause like that? Yeah - like a natural pause - and that’s where you’re meant to stop. Great - you learn something everyday.”

4 months later he died of a suspected overdose.

4th September 2019