#proverbs class

[dwuerch-blog]

A Wisdom Diploma

What if all those students who recently graduated had taken “wisdom” courses that gave them the keys for a life of success — no matter what profession they chose? For sure, those wisdom courses would have helped us avoid the School of Hard Knocks! That’s a school we go to without realizing we enrolled. Despite all our time and effort, we still haven’t graduated. Why? Because we haven’t tapped…

[itspileofgoodthings]

one time my mom was talking about something, I don’t remember what, and she said “have you ever known the poverty of having nothing to say?” and when I say nothing has ever punctured my heart quite like that statement

[that-one-girls-blog-posts]

learning how to pray the rosary ♡

[nando161mando]

“La seule église qui illumine est celle qui brûle”

Proverbe anarchiste.

🇬🇧 “The only church that illuminates is the one that burns”

Anarchist proverb.

🇮🇹 “L’unica chiesa che illumina è quella che arde”

Proverbio anarchico.

🇪🇦 “La única iglesia que ilumina es la que arde”

Proverbio anarquista.

t.me/primalinea161

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"SCRIPTURES QUOTED AS CHATTELS LOADED BAILIFF IS DEFIED," Toronto Globe. August 15, 1933. Page 9. ---- Nothing to Prevent Removal of Seized Furniture, Is Claim Made --- GUARD VETERAN'S HOME --- "A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and all loving favors rather than silver and gold. The rich and the poor meet together: and the Lord is maker of them all."

Opening with these words, Alex. Kirkwood, leader of the Christian Workers' Brotherhood in York Township, read from Proverbs 22, as C. Blake defied a bailiff's orders not to remove furniture from his home at 523 Northcliffe Boulevard, after they had been distrained for arrears of rent claimed by the landlord. The chattels were seized on Saturday, and late on Sunday night Blake had them taken out of the house and conveyed to a city address. As the last piece was loaded on the truck Kirkwood read the Psalm in the presence of Blake, his wife and child and other members of the brotherhood, and before leaving closed with a brief prayer.

Blake was not at home when the bailiff called on Saturday, and when his wife was called upon to sign a bond undertaking not to move the articles she positively refused. She claimed that, faced with this affront, the bailiff threatened her before leaving.

Before moving the chattels Blake, had Mr. Kirkwood communicate with Joseph Sedgewick of the Attorney-General's Department. As a result, according to Kirkwood, that official declared that, inasmuch as no bond had been given, there was nothing to prevent Blake from moving the furniture.

All day yesterday two members of the brotherhood were posted at the Northcliffe Boulevard address, thinking that the bailiff might return to claim the chattels, He did not put in an appearance, however, but the men remained until nightfall, standing at either entrance with a Bible in their hands. Had the bailiff called, they told The Globe they intended to block his entrance with out-stretched arms holding an open Bible and defy him to push it aside.

[novanhistorian]

Every day I must act normal despite knowing how the contrast between Memphis’s and Sana’s views of authority all traces back to how they see the same quasi-omniscient system exploited and by whom.

[mychlapci]

i need to chill out. i'll go check it out tomorrow. if the exam's happening... then y'know. i'll take it. if she cancelled it, then i'll just sign up for the same exam on a different day. nothing's lost. it's an open book, translation exam. and even if i take it, and i fail, i can just go and take it again anyways.

[wileycap]

I completely ignore the comics because Zuko and Azula's ideal dynamic is:

AZULA [in a letter]: Brother dearest, my latest plan to depose you would involve the faction of Ozai loyalists in the 9th Province. Since the 9th Province is so crucial to rice production, destroying part of the crop and blaming it on your new tax policy concerning the upper classes would be a great way to incite unrest under your rule. This would swiftly lead to your brutal execution. Love, The Rightful Fire Lord, Azula I.

SUKI: See? This is why we should revoke her letter privileges. She's openly threatening you.

ZUKO: No, no, she's onto something. Send a division to oversee the harvest in the 9th Province.

And Zuko, not knowing what else to do but knowing it worked for him, keeps going to Azula's hospital to offer her middling tea, bad Pai Sho strategies and truly horrible proverbs.

ZUKO: So, uh, then you put the White Lotus tile here... and... anyways, you get to go to a flower shop, but. Uh. Flowers are like... people. Um. Sometimes... they take a while to... open up. But once they do, they've got... a silver sandwich inside them...

AZULA: actually i'd like to be tortured please

It's the way IT SHOULD BE.

[thecardiganunderthebed]

Left handed

Sirius and Regulus were both left-handed. This was seen as low class in the Black family so they both were forced taught to write with their right hand. Sirius being Sirius never really cared and wrote with his left hand because "I shall write how it is comfortable mother, and my comfort lies in writing with my left hand so.......fuck you <3". But Regulus, oh poor Regulus tried to write so neatly with his right hand to make his mom proud that he would take double the time to write down notes.

That was until he learnt it didn't matter.

On a normal Tuesday morning in his 6th year at Hogwarts Sirius black was feeling an emotion he hadn't felt since the last time he saw Moony in a suit......dumbstruck. He had stopped in his tracks, successfully causing Peter, walking behind him, to fall down.

James frantically tried to look at the subject that had caused Sirius Black to finally and uncharacteristically shut up about how amazing eyeliner was.

"Padfoot you okay?"

"He's writing with his left hand."

"What?"

"I- James, he's writing with his left hand". Offering no more of an explanation the oldest Black brother walked to the Slytherin table as if in a trance. With the determination he was walking with it would take an act of god to stop him. He reached and very deliberately did not look at anyone but his younger brother, writing his potions homework, with his left hand.

"You aren't supposed to stir that 7 times clockwise, it's 3 times clockwise and 4 times anti-clockwise. It makes the midnight blue shade appear quicker."

Regulus looked up to judge whoever had dared try and correct him when he looked up and realised.....oh. Okay.

"Hello to you too dear brother", he said with a raised eyebrow and nothing more.

"You're writing with your left hand'

"So I am."

"It would piss her off if she knew"

"So it would."

A quick flash in Sirius' face reminded Regulus of the look he gave him when Regulus stole cookies for both of them with the help of Kreacher, pure unrestrained pride.

"Well mieux vaut tard que jamais" Sirius said and quickly walked away

And that one proverb told Regulus that he was forgiven, that Sirius understood and most importantly, that he had his brother back.

[igotanidea]

Family rules: Damian Wayne x reader

Christmas bingo day 23 : midnight kiss

The first time she truly understood the meaning of the proverb heart over mind was on a school trip in September.

He was just standing by the wall, doing nothing except staring into space with those piercing green eyes.

Such pretty eyes

Such devilish, snake eyes.

Acting like he was who knows who.

Arrogant, cold, keeping his distant, rough, self-absorbed, not caring about anything or anyone.

Just like his father.

Damian Wayne.

***

Y/N had the misfortune of being born into a technological company family. Obviously she didn’t know it when she was a kid, but the word Wayne was inflected in her home on all occasions.

Wayne this, Wayne that...

 sort of spell or- more likely - a curse.

Damn it!

She was 12 when she gathered enough courage to ask her father what this was about. A mistake she only made once, cause even the mention of the Bruce Wayne and his famous, profitable company made her father see red.

That's how she found about the on-going competition between her father and Damian's one.

Obviously it was not like she was excluded from family rules and allowed to live in a bubble. Y/N was supposed to hate the entire Wayne family, the progenitor, his adopted kids and everyone who even came close to them. The only blood son included.

The only problem?

Said blood son was attending the same school, the same class as Y/N was. Which meant a lot of time spend together.

And you just command a teenager to do something and hope they'll listen. It's pretty much impossible, if not foolish belief.

***

In her defence - she tried.

She really tried to hate Damian.

But for five years, his name has been coming to her from every way on every occasion.

Wayne this, Wayne that.

Damn it!!

She could tear her hair out in utter desperation. How was she supposed to not think about him when all the world seemed to be dead set to remind her of his existence.

Of his stupid, unnecessary existence.

With his stupid, idiotic smile and his ridiculous handsome face and infuriating behaviour and the tendency to just be mean all the fucking time.

The internal fight between what she felt and how she acted made her clench her fist and grit her teeth every time Damian came into her view. The little bastard has been doing it on purpose just to see her flustered and enraged. It was like he was trying this best to show his superiority and just rub it into her face.

„L/N.”

„The hell you want Wayne?”

„Will you be attending this year’s New Year's Eve?”

„Will I what now?” she raised her gaze, unable to hide the confusion.

„want me to spell it out for you or something”?”

„Hm.” she muttered „I had no idea you knew how to do that Wayne.”

„I;m only telling you because I know you have problems with reading.”

„Clearly you have a problem with understanding simple things.”

„What I understand is that your father was left out when the invitations were being send. Are you finally going bankrupt”

„You little piece of-!” before she could stop herself her palm met with his cheek with a loud slap.

Shit.

He got exactly what he wanted. Provoked her and got the awaited reaction. She exposed herself, cause acting so dramatically only proved her contradictory, violent emotions he evoked in her.

„Nice one. Didn’t think you had it in you.” he wiped the little drop of blood she drew with her nails.

„Trust me I had it in me ever since you invaded the class.”

„I’ll let you make it even when you invade Wayne Manor for the party.”

„Though you said my family wasn’t invited?”

„It’s a charitable thing to open the door for the poor. I’ll see to it personally.”

„Such a generosity on your part, Mr. Wayne.” she rolled her eyes. „You can take your fake bounty and shove it up-”

„I can’t wait till you meet Todd. You two have so much in common.”

„Your older brother? Yeah, from what I heard you two have quite a rocky relationship. Maybe we’ll gang up on you.”

„Can’t wait.” Damian laughed dryly and with a mischievious glint in his eyes walked away not bothering to say another word.

***

„I;m not going.”

„You;re going.”

„I am so not going!”

„You don’t have a say in the matter!”

„Last year you said that new year’s party is not a place for kids!”

„You’re not a kid!”

„I’m 17! I;m a kid!”

„You ran away from home few months ago. You’re not a kid. You’re going. End of discussion.”

„If I’m not a kid then how come I can’t make a decision on this?” she smiled at her father with absolutely innocent eyes, pointing out all the holes in his logic.

Well-

He didn’t take her defiance in a good way.

Almost dragging her to the wayne manor, but dragging nevertheless.

***

Vomiting.

That’s how she felt entering the place,

Running away.

That’s how she felt walking up the steps and being thrown to the sharks when all the gazes landed on her and her father.

Hiding.

That’s how she felt when the gravity of being judged only based on her clothes and outlook sunk in.

Instead Y/N was forced to fake a smile, dance and do the rounds pretending to have fun.

All for the glory and good publicity of her father’s company.

Worst part?

He has been watching.

Like a predator in the darkness, waiting to strike when she was least suspecting it.

„Mr L/N.” Damian crept behind the girl and her father and she was sure he only did it on purpose to startle her. „Would you mind if I steal your daughter for a dance.

The tragicomic of the situation was truly poetic.

Her father went pale. Then red. His jaw got tense. Then loose. And then he smiled forcefully nodding his head, unable to say the dreaded yes. Apparently being torn between the devil (his daughter dancing with the son of his archenemy) and the deep blue sea (offending the host) was too much to handle.,

Too bad, Y/N had no chance to object or get away before Damian led her to the dancefloor.

„It’s not XVIth century Wayne, women can make their own decisions.” she hissed not really happy about his hands circling around her waist.

„Then run away if that’s what you want. I dare you.”

„I’m not going to make a scene here!”

„thought so.” he chuckled, capably leading her in the dance.

„what the hell is that supposed to mean!?”

„absolutely nothing.”

„I’ve known you for five years. There’s never nothing with you Damian.”

‘You used my name, Y/N.”

‘And you repeated my mistake.”

„Maybe it’s not a mistake?” he pulled her slightly closer, causing her to let out an involuntarily gasp. „I’m just saying-”

„I’m supposed to hate you.” she whispered making a turn and then a swirl

„So you don’t.” this was not a question but a statement, his hands trembling slightly. It was hard for him to keep the attitude while dealing with a whirlwind inside. He was 17 and liked a girl, having no idea how to behave to not make a fool out of himself, get embarrassed and lose in her eyes.

„don’t let it get into your head.” she whispered pressing herself closer to his body. They were dancing and it was only because of that.

„Me?” Damian smiled but it came unnoticed due to her head leaning on his shoulder „I think you’re the one who’s fantasising.”

„You sure you’re not hoping for a midnight kiss?” she mocked

„Are you?”

„no.”

„me neither.”

Bruce and f/n were carefully watching their kids.

Damian and Y/n couldn’t care less.

Family drama and conflicts seemed light years away at that moment.

 Future could be figured out later.

Part 2: moment of weakness

[dwuerch-blog]

How About a Good Dose of Medicine to Heal What Ails You?

Oh, how I wanted to be my friend, the Class Clown. She could make any situation funny, without even trying. She was my roommate, Lois, at Canyonville Bible Academy in Oregon. She always had me, and others, in stitches. Now, I have a husband who is like that, too! BTW – please forgive me for my incessant referrals to this dear, hilariously funny man. He has surely given me lots of new content for…

[intuitive-revelations]

Headcanon: one of the reasons why Gallifreyan is a) so complex, and b) so inconsistent, is because it's less one language and more a complex mishmash of thousands of languages and dialects.

Think about how one of the reasons English can be complex to learn is because of the mix of Germanic and romance language roots, and now take it up to 11.

While one might expect Gallifrey to be monolingual, given its age and class structure, this probably isn't technically the case. After all, why limit your culture to one language when the average citizen is effectively panlingual (to the point that TARDIS translation circuits are actually dependent on their pilots' knowledge, rather than the other way round)?

Thus, if there once were distinct languages on Gallifrey, they probably have all been merged at this point into modern Gallifrey's super-Esperanto. Add in loan words from notable civilisations across all of spacetime (but likely primarily from Gallifreyan colonies and allies like Dronid, Minyos, Cartego etc.), and it quickly becomes quite unwieldy.

It's also likely that there's a lot of overlap between these sub-languages, which can make distinguishing meaning hard to an outsider. Gallifreyans likely get around this courtesy of their telepathic connections.

TBH, given Time Lord sensibilities, it's likely that every single word variation has its own delicate meanings, derived not just from their societal uses but also from the etymology and history of each one. Canonically (though I don't have a source) we know that there are 30 different words meaning "culture shock", for example, which likely have very minor distinctions in meaning. We also know, unsurprisingly, that there's at least 208 tenses to help in describing time travel.

As an example - imagine being a Sunari ambassador at an embassy gathering and accidentally offending every Time Lord in the room because you accidentally used a definite article derived from the memeovored Old High Tersuran colony dialect, now considered low-brow by association with modern Tersuran, when you intended to use a nearly identical form of the word originating from the Founding Conflict, a triumphant post-Rassilonian intervention, distinguished by a near-imperceptible glottal stop.

It's likely that some of these Gallifreyan sub-languages/dialects may still be spoken with increased frequency under certain conditions, such as in one's own House or when visiting other city complexes. We know, for example, that Arcadia seems to be associated with a "Northern English" accent (which Nine picked up subconsciously post-regeneration, with the Fall of Arcadia being one of the last things the War Doctor remembered before DOTD's multi-Doctor event - hence "lots of planets have a north") when translated, which may indicate some dialect differences in the original language. I suspect there is a societal expectation for Gallifreyans to code-switch depending on the situation, with Citadel business generally expecting the Gallifreyan equivalent of RP, though it's relatively common for Time Lords less concerned with respectability and politicking to not comply.

One nice benefit of all this complexity, and the reason I made this post, is that there's a good argument to be made that every fan attempt to construct a Gallifreyan language can be 'canon', contradictions and all.

Greencook Gallifreyan? A formal evolution of Pythian prophecy scripture into the post-Intuitive Revelation era (based on its similarities with the Visionary's scrawling in The End of Time).

Sherman Gallifreyan? A modern katakana-like phonetic alphabet for the rapid-onslaught of new loan words following President Romana's open academy policies. Recently adopted by the Fifteenth Doctor for writing human proverbs.

Teegarden Gallifreyan? An archaic but recognisable near-Capitolian dialect from the Prydonian mountains, once spoken by Oldblood houses like Lungbarrow and Blyledge.

Or, in a nutshell, the state of Gallifreyan conlangs (and maybe in-universe Gallifreyan dialects):

I guess the dream project would be to accept the complexity and create some sort of grand modular "meta-Gallifreyan" conlang, merging as many fan interpretations as possible with their own distinctions and overlaps, that can continue to be updated as new ideas come up and new stories are released...

[revelboo]

OOO I FOUND IT! I know I learned about it in history class, it was the Amago clan of ninjas 🥷 that had that saying “Those who desire only technique will never understand it's everything beyond that”. And here’s two quotes by Sensei Toshitsugu Takamatsu also known as ‘The Last Shinobi’: “How difficult is life when one is not surprised by anything and laughing, everyday.” And “Knowing that disease and disaster are natural parts of life is the key to overcoming adversity with a calm and happy spirit.”

It was one of Sensei Takamatsu’s lessons about keeping spiritual peace and balance while not letting internal darkness consume one’s life. (Hope you don’t mind me doing themed quotes, I find traditional ninjas and samurai, especially their lessons and proverbs, fascinating😅).

The Samurai Code Pt 2

IDW Drift x Reader

• You’re real, warm against his servos as he makes his way through the halls toward the medbay. He’s also painfully aware of how badly you’re shaking, the way you’re curling into yourself. “Can you understand me?” He asks, parting his servos enough he can see your eyes almost squinted shut, face drawn like you’re in pain even though he’s sure he’s not holding you tightly. Feeling of one of your tiny hands grabbing onto his servo, clinging to him.

• That prickling, fiery feeling is a tide washing over you in waves, stealing your breath when it crashes over you and leaving you trembling in agony when it washes out. “Make it stop,” you manage, pressing your face against that giant hand as the sensation tears you apart again, shredding you into nothing but suffocating pain. “Please.”

• “You’ll be okay,” he promises, lying to you, because he has no idea what’s happening. Spark twisting at the agony in your words, there’s nothing he can do but run a servo against your spine in what he hopes is a comforting touch as he enters the medbay. Ratchet looks up from where he’s sterilizing tools when he enters. “I can’t fix this,” he whispers, holding out his caged hands, because he can feel the way your heart beat shifts into something frantic and wild with every time you clench into a tighter ball. Those little, pained noises you’re making going right through him.

• “Where’d that one come from?” Ratchet groans, reaching to accept your little form and he’s almost reluctant to give you up as crazy as it is, you’re just clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping you together. Hovering as Ratchet lifts you from his hands and reaches for a scanner to pass over you as the shaking gets worse. Eyes opening and finding him, little hand trembling and reaching out for him.

• There’s two of them now. You’re dimly aware of the first one explaining how you’d just appeared, but everything is so fragmented, pain breaking you apart piece by piece. And then there’s panic choking you, until you’re reaching for the first one. The one with that soft, soothing voice and gentle hands. Wanting to ask him to not leave you here, please, don’t leave you alone, but unable to focus enough to say any of it. But then he’s reaching for you as the other one frowns, extending a huge servo to you and in your fear, you latch onto him, the only thing even slightly familiar amid the pain.

• You curl yourself around his servo, pressing your face against him. Needing him and he stills as the shaking eases and you slump into an exhausted sleep. “Best guess it has to do with however they got here,” Ratchet says as he studies his scanner. “Rodimus already alerted me that he found another one, so you’ll have to look after that one.”

• “You can fix this,” he says, spark twisting uneasily as he carefully accepts you back from Ratchet, aware of how fragile you feel in his servos. “Ratchet?” That look the medic levels at him is answer enough, but it’s not the one he wants as his attention dips to you.

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[to-be-a-dreamer]

I’ve been reading the Grishaverse books/watching the Netflix show for the first time over the past couple weeks or so and I just have to say that I think it's so funny whenever Kaz gets snarky about Inej's proverbs or Matthias's religious talk or Jesper’s Jesperisms or anyone else being even slightly philosophical or theatrical or whatever because Kaz Brekker is the most dramatic bitch in all of Kerch. Like. I'm pretty sure this kid graduated top of his class from the School of Dramatic One-Liners with a double major in "Commit to the Aesthetic" and "Writing Epic Love Poetry Whilst Maintaining the Bad Guy Reputation". Dude wanted to impress a girl and wasn’t sure if getting the whole ass king of Ravka to find her long-lost parents was enough so he bought an entire warship from his friend who absolutely would have just Given It To Him but noooooo Mr. Protecting-My-Investment over here had to pay a fair price otherwise it doesn’t count.

The only, and I mean the ONLY reason I don't say he's the most dramatic bitch in the entire Grishaverse is because Nikolai Lantsov exists and that man once wore his entire army uniform under his jacket to go volcra hunting in the Shadow Fold on the off chance he would get to make a dramatic reveal at the end. He put a spring-loaded curtain in front of the weapons rack on his personal ship just in case he had guests he wanted to show off for. I wouldn’t be surprised if he did the dramatic flourish every time he opened those curtains for literally no one but himself. I also wouldn’t be surprised if he made that set up after he had guests he wanted to show off for. That curtain either went up two hours before he used it or it was the first thing he built on that ship there is no in between.

I need copious amounts of Expo markers, PowerPoint slides, and glitter to figure out which one of them takes the title it is CLOSE.

[cursecuelebre]

All About Woden or Oðin

It’s going to be a bit long so I hope I won’t bore y’all.

Attributes:

War

Wisdom

Magic (Seidr or Galdr)

Death

Poetry

Runes

Healing

Divination

The elite which is the high class (historically speaking but he can still be worshipped by any class he doesn’t discriminate)

King of Asgard and Aesir

Father to men and gods

Spirits

Air and Breath

Symbols

Runes (which he gifted to mankind and sacrifice himself for)

Ravens, he has two of his own called Huginn (thought) and Muninn (Memory). Crows can be associated as well but accurately are Ravens.

The rune Ansuz

Wolves

Staffs

His spear Gungnir which will always hit its mark

A winged helmet

Sleipnir the eight legged horse, child of Loki. Horses can also be a good symbol as well.

Valknut a sigil that is representative of Death, Preparation, and Protection.

The Gungnir sigil which is a diamond with an X over in the center

Horn Triskelion which Odin’s gift of knowledge of poetry and mead

Poetry this can be written poems or songs

Wednesday or Woden’s day

His own set of books called Havamal which is basically Norse proverbs but it’s basically means “Words of The One Eyed”

Herbs/Plants/Trees: Ash trees, Elm Trees, Rowan Trees, Horehound, Parsley, Woad, Mugwort

Offerings.

Mead (Beer can be a good substitute) if you can’t get beer water or tea or coffee is fine

Meat (for his wolves it’s said that Odin doesn’t eat but drinks a lot according to mythology, but I don’t think he would be mad if you put some on the side for him)

Poetry or general music

Handmade items

Weapons (doesn’t have to be real)

Bird feed (for his ravens)

Crystals (it’s more neo pagan, but he likes obsidian a lot)

Devoted acts like writing, exercise, crafting, etc.

Any magical things

Anything associated with Horses, horses were very sacred in Norse culture. Pictures of horses, horse hair(if you can find any), drawings of horses, etc.

Ravens like raven feathers or skulls (please clean them well and ask the spirit for permission) but then again no need anything crow or Raven related same with Wolves.

Runes, bind runes, handcrafted runes, rune artwork, etc. any divination tool as well like a tarot deck.

Staffs or Wands

Depictions

There is quite few depictions of Oðin in artwork but here is common scenery, he is an older gentleman with a long beard with one eye (the lore never said which eye was sacrificed).

His wanderer aspect: It’s the one I described earlier about him looking like Gandalf, a older man in a top hat or hooded in old robes carrying a staff. This aspect is of him traveling throughout the nine realms.

Warrior aspect or King aspect: He is in his armor, carrying a spear. Sitting in a throne with his winged helmet by his side are his two wolves Geri and Freki and at his shoulders is Huginn and Muninn who are essentially his messengers but very still apart of them so that they can see everything throughout the nine realms.

His hanged aspect: Which shows him hanging upside down from the world tree by stabbing himself while gaining knowledge about the runes. He died then rose back to life fully understanding the runes we know today which he gifted to us.

Sleipnir: Oðin attain Sleipnir by Loki, Sleipnir has eight legs and was Oðin’s battle horse and accompanied him throughout the nine realms most famously known traveling to Helheim to summon a dead seer for a prophecy.

Titles

There are so many but I’ll shall put the ones that are commonly used and ones I really like and forgive me for any spelling mistakes Germanic or any Scandinavian languages isn’t my first language and I have terrible handwriting.

Aldafödr- Father of men

Alfaðir or Alföðr - Allfather

Báleygr - Feeble eye, one eyed or flamed eye

Draugadróttin - Lord of Ghosts

Foldardróttin- Lord of The Earth

Gapthrosnir - One in a Gaping Frenzy

Gizur - Riddler

Ginnarr- Decevier

Göndlir - Wand Bearer

Gollnir - Yeller

Godjaðarr - God Protector

Grimnir, Grimr - Masked one, hooded one

Hangaguð - Hanged God

Gudan - Master of Fury

Haptabeiðir - Ruler of the gods

Haptasnytirr- Teacher of The Gods

Hárbarðr- Grey Beard

Hárr - One eye

Havi- High one

Jölföðr - Yule Father

Jölnir - Yule

Oðinn- Frenzy one

Óski - Fulfiller of Desires

Runatyr- God of Runes

Sigföðr - Father of Victory

Wōden- Master of Fury

Ódr - “frenzy”, divine inspiration, breath

Wilde Jaegar - Lord of The Wild Hunt

Karl - Old man

War-Father

Long hat

Wise and Wisdom Granter

True Father

Spell caster

Shadowed face

Fool and Wise man

Sleep-maker

General Information

Commonly known as Oðin (frenzy) or Wōden (Fury) to the Anglo Saxons he is probably one of fascinating gods in Germanic/Norse Mythology. From the titles and attributes even the symbols you can tell he isn’t just one set type of God he rules and charges over countless of things.

Oðin was born to Borr along with his two brothers, Vili and Ve, Oðin is the oldest. All three brothers killed the first being in existence Ymir. Which they created the earth, sky, and sea from his corpse literally Ymir’s skull is the sky and his brain the clouds and his blood the rivers and ocean. Then him and his brothers created the first humans Ask and Embla from pieces of trunks of Ash and Oak. I should note that most of what sources we have Norse Mythology is from Christian sources so you might see some influences from Abrahamic faiths. Oðin along with his brothers Vili and Ve gave each of them a trait of life. Oðin gave breath of life, Vili gave understanding and physical movements, and Ve gave their senses.

Oðin is a god of wisdom, he is always eager for the pursue of knowledge. That is why he travels a lot. Once he came upon the Well of Mimir beneath Yggdrasil’s roots a Jotun who guarded the well who was the wisest being of all and his well and grant such wisdom. Oðin asked if he can drink from the waters. Mimir agreed but said he needed to give the well, a sacrifice, so Oðin did that he gave the well his eye that he can drink. From doing so he became very knowledgeable in the ways of magic, curing the sick, calm storms, summoning the dead, etc this lead him on to his pursuit of the Runes. By the way Mimir’s head was beheaded and to preserve his head Oðin put the head in herbs and sang spells so that Mimir can still speak to him.

Then another famous story was how he gain the runes. Oðin hung himself upside down from the Yggdrasil tree by piercing himself with his spear as he called for the runes. For nine days and nine nights he had no help but when the runes finally came to him he let out a cry falling dying. It’s said it was describe the light of the world going dark when Oðin dead but suddenly it light up again and Oðin came back alive with the knowledge of the runes. Which he generously shared with Mankind.

He is a god rules over Valhalla one half goes to him (those who die in battle) and the other goes to Freyja’s hall. He’ll lead dead warriors when Ragnorak begins.

He is the god of kings and rulers but he also is the god of tyrants as well

God of order but he does do some trickery like Loki.

He is a war god there is so many titles that have him in war context that is overwhelming lol. About frenzy, fury, spears, victory, etc. it’s also describe Oðin will bring war upon peaceful communities as well.

God of Death, he is considered to be a psychopomp

He is equivalent to Mercury or Hermes (Psychopomp, knowledge, share the same day Wednesday.) similarities between them are mostly documented by Roman historian Tacitus.

He is a God among the goths, Anglo-Saxons, Germanic Tribes, Norse, Danes, Swedish, Finnish, and Icelandic peoples

He is the God of the Wild hunt which along side him is Holda a Germanic goddess of winter and death, it’s said Santa Claus is partly inspired from him because after he is finished with his hunt will come around people’s homes dropping gifts in shoes. He is also known as the Yule-Father.

Oðin is also the god of magic of Seidr and Galdr, Seidr is like a shamanic form of magic that the Norse used. It involved divination, spirit work, chanting, spinning, meditation. Seidr historically was only socially acceptable for women to practice not men but Oðin is the one that taught men Seidr. Galdr is magic of chanting or singing, created the song to cast spells. He can send a person dreams and messages. He can also make witches go mad apparently.

He is able to summon the dead, make them alive again. 

Oðin is married to Frigga of marriage and justice and they had together Baldr, Hodr, and Hermod. But Oðin had many lovers and many children including Thor, Vali, Vidarr, Heimdallr, and many more. It’s also said that he had a relationship with Freyja even married her at one point before he disappeared however it’s not quite clear nor proven to be Oðin just speculation.

My personal experience

I will say Odin is a different type of God I encounter with. The best way I can describe it and it may sound weird but he’s like a fun grandfather. He has his wisdom and knowledge but also his sense of humor. He has helped me through a lot especially with anxiety and depression and burnout. Out of all the gods I have worked with he is the one that gives me the most dreams, the dreams are so beautiful and powerful I can’t describe them in full detail but involves magic.

Typically he loves any type of votive offering (creating the offering) like he enjoys regular offerings of course. But just using your free time to do craft something for him or do something for him he really appreciates. Writing your own poetry, studying, crafting, using your inspiration for workings, etc. divination or spellwork. He does play some playful tricks time to time.

Tarot:

Tarot cards I resonate with Oðin from my personal practice

Magician

Emperor

Hermit

Hanged Man

Death

Ace of Wands

[goldenseresinretriever]

False Confidence: Chapter 12

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, anxiety, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: Happy Friday, y’all!

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You examine your classroom, straightening the decorations that you’ve hung on the wall. Every square inch of the room is decked out in various shades of pink, red, and white. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and while your students are too young to really grasp the concept, the air has been buzzing all week. It has little to do with love and everything to do with the promise of candy and cookies at the class party on Tuesday.

You find your eyes searching for the calendar on the classroom wall and a frown creeps up onto your lips. The Dogfighters are on a road trip right now and you’ve found yourself irritated at the way it feels like life has seemingly returned to the way it was before you met your new friends. You’ve spent the last week going home straight after work, occasionally to the Fitch house where you help Josie with the kids while she attempts to get some work done. She’s stretched thinner than usual with Reuben out of town and you can’t help the way you wonder to yourself if this is your future. And while it makes you nervous, there’s a part of your stomach that flutters giddily.

You and Javy have been official for a little over a week, but the road trip has taken up most of that time. You’re anxious to see Javy again, and you’re seriously starting to doubt the old proverb that promises that absence makes the heart grow fonder. You’ve finally allowed yourself to be upfront about your feelings for him, given that he’s actually your real boyfriend now. He’s your real boyfriend now. You can’t help the way you bounce on the balls of your feet in excitement as a fresh wave of giddy butterflies flutters through your stomach. Another glance at the calendar reminds you that despite this being your first Valentine’s Day with Javy, he’s going to have to meet it, playing a game in Seattle tomorrow night. The two of you have plans for the weekend, however, a belated celebration once he’s back and rested. After the game in Seattle, they have one more game in Denver on Thursday before they get back to San Diego on Friday.

“You’re in a good mood this morning.” A voice from behind you teases and you pause your drawing on the board to look over your shoulder to where Josie’s leaning against the doorframe.

“Josie! Good morning!” You greet her as you cap the marker and wipe your hands off on your overalls as you go over to give her a hug that she returns before handing you a to-go cup that smells delicious.

“We stopped for a little treat this morning since the kids are missing Daddy extra.” She gives you a tired but rueful smile. You know if you miss Javy after barely dating him for a week, Josie must be missing Reuben something fierce after being married for a decade.

“They’ll be home on Friday,” you remind her, trying to sound cheerful but your melancholy must show through your facade because Josie gives you a gentle smile.

“Hey, what are you doing tomorrow night?” She asks, and you see a scheming twinkle in her eyes.

“Tomorrow? Nothing really, I was going to watch the match while I grade papers, and then Javy said he’d call afterward and we could get takeout for Valentine’s Dinner.” You ignore the way your stomach flips at the words Valentine’s Dinner. “Why? Did you need help with the kids tomorrow night?”

“Yeah actually,” Josie says casually, sliding a hand into her pocket. “I thought maybe we could watch the game together?”

“Of course! That would be so much fun, what time should I come over?” You’re secretly excited not to have to spend the night alone with your TV and your thoughts when you’re sure the jitters will be too distracting to get any work done anyway.

“Well we’re going to have to leave right after school if we’re going to make the flight,” Josie says and you blink, confused until you look down and see the tickets that Josie’s holding out to you.

“W-what?” You stammer as your brain struggles to catch up with your eyes.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Roadie,” she says and you look from the tickets back up her and then back down to the tickets before you almost spill the coffee in your hand as you throw your arms around Josie. Josie laughs, fishing the coffee from your hand and depositing it safely on a nearby bookshelf.

“Josie, I can’t, it’s too much,” you blubber uselessly as you sob into her shoulder, all composure lost at your best friend’s kindness.

She just shakes her head as she pats your back comfortingly. “The kids miss their dad, I miss my husband, and you can’t miss your first Valentine’s Day with Javy. He’s still not my favorite person in the world but he makes you happy so I can’t hate him.” You choke out a chuckle at Josie’s words.

“Thank you, Josie.” You whisper and she just shakes her head again.

“Don’t thank me, just enjoy the day.” She pauses before she adds. “I’d originally wanted to surprise you with it tomorrow but I figured I should give you a chance to pack.” She laughs and you join in.

“I think my brain might have exploded,” you point out and she laughs harder.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, so we have just one car and we can go straight from work to the airport.” You nod, still breathless over the fact that you’ll get to see Javy tomorrow.

“Wait, do the boys know?” You ask, your brain firing at a mile-a-minute.

Josie shakes her head, a conspiratory grin spreading across her face. “I thought we could surprise them. Zam knows she’s the one that arranged the game tickets.”

“We’re going to the game?!” You grasp the papers Josie’s still holding and you shuffle through them to see the game tickets under the plane tickets. “Josie!” You shriek and she laughs, head tipping back.

“Don’t yell at me, those are complimentary! WAG privileges,” she reminds you and you shake your head in disbelief. Not only do you get to see Javy tomorrow, but you get to go to the game and surprise him. “Alright, I need to get going before my kids start showing up but I’ll see you at lunch,” you wave to Josie before returning to your prep for the day.

Suddenly you feel ridiculous for all the stressing you’ve done over the past week, trying to decide what to get your boyfriend for Valentine’s Day. You know Javy has no qualms about spending ridiculous sums of money on you, but you’re not exactly in a position to do the same. All the same, you’re feeling pretty proud of your Valentine’s Day gift for Javy. You’re also extremely happy that you finished in time for Valentine’s Day despite thinking you wouldn’t be able to give it to him until Saturday. You’re nervous but excited to see his reaction to it. You’re even more excited to see his reaction to your and Josie’s surprise.

***

You’re secretly glad that all you have planned for today is a Valentine’s Day party. You’re not sure you have the focus required to teach your students today since you’ve been bouncing off the walls with nervous excitement since you got out of bed this morning, not that you’d slept much at all. You’re secretly thankful for the parents who volunteered to help with the party because your mind is on this evening, your eyes flitting to the clock constantly, counting down the seconds until you’re done with work.

You know you should calm down and conserve your energy. The next twenty-four hours are going to be a whirlwind. After school ends, you have to rush to the airport to make your direct flight to Seattle, and from there you need to rush to the arena to make it in time for the game. After that, you’ll spend the night in Seattle before catching a red-eye from Seattle back to San Diego with barely enough time to make it back in time to teach Wednesday morning. Josie’s planning to drop off the kids with Penny for the day, since they’ll likely be too exhausted to handle a full day of school after all that travel. You secretly wish you could afford to take tomorrow off, but with so little notice, you know better than to try.

Your eyes move from the clock to the comically large vase currently taking up most of your desk. The flowers had been delivered during first period and you can’t help the giddy smile that stretches your face as you look at the bright orange blossoms. Your students had descended into giggles when you told them it was from Javy and you couldn't help but join in.

***

Your students finally make their way to lunch and you slump across your desk, letting the scent of the tiger lilies above you permeate your nose, and as sweet as they smell, you find yourself missing a different scent, a smokier, spicier one. You let out an exhausted groan as Josie lets herself in, coming to sit across from you.

“He sent you flowers,” she remarks, and you think she sounds a little impressed. You turn your head to squish your cheek against the cool wooden surface as you look at her and nod.

“Aren’t they perfect?” You say, a shy smile tugging at your lips as you follow her gaze to the orange blossoms.

“Tiger lilies? Not roses?” She asks, reaching a hand out to finger the blossoms, curiously.

“They’re my favorite.” You explain. “I don’t know how he knew,” you muse as a thought occurs to you. “Did you tell him?” Josie holds up her hands in surrender.

“It wasn’t me. I didn’t even know you liked tiger lilies.” Your brow furrows in thought.

“Well, technically, I love all lilies,”

“But those are your favorites now since they’re the ones he bought you,” Josie interrupts your thought and you look at her, surprised as you nod, cheeks heating.

“I used to like mums, back in college, they were my favorite and I was super vocal about it. Then I met Reuben and on our first date he bought me dahlias because he’d bought them thinking they were just big mums, and in that moment I realized I never wanted anything but dahlias. They reminded me of him, and how eager he was to make me happy, and now they’re my favorites.” The two of you sit in content silence for a long moment before she speaks up again. “Are you excited for tonight?” Your face brightens instantly and you nod enthusiastically.

“I still can’t believe it’s real, thank you so much again, Josie.” She shakes her head.

“Thank you for coming with me,” she chuckles, “but after you experience flying with two kids, I don’t think you’ll take me up on the offer again.” She teases and you roll your eyes.

“I love your kids,” you remind her and she chuckles.

“You do now, just wait.”

***

You can’t help the nerves that are pacing in your stomach as you worry the edge of the jersey you’re wearing. You try to channel the restless energy into helping Josie wrangle the kids. They are restless too, excited to see their dad, and cranky from their naps on the plane. You can’t find it in you to be irritated with them when you see your own raw emotions on display in them. You glance over your shoulder, anxious for warmups to begin so you can see Javy and the tension in your heart can finally snap.

Skylar bumps into you on accident as she tries to wrangle one of the homemade signs that are jammed into the bag on the floor. They’re incredibly cheesy, but Josie had insisted that they’re a necessary part of the surprise. You help her unfold them and hand her and Jamie the one they’ll hold together. It’s a simple mess of glitter and paint that reads, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy!” Josie gives it a long look like she’s considering hoisting it herself and you roll your eyes as you slide out the sign that Josie made for the two of you. You haven’t seen it yet and you’re a little nervous. Josie is a lot braver than you are and she’s been married for a decade while you’re in your first real relationship that’s barely a week old. You carefully unroll the sign and feel your cheeks heat as you read the words on it. “It’s not just puppy love, Happy Valentine’s Day, Dogfighters!” It’s sweet and playful but your eyes are caught on one particular four-letter word.

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears so loud that you almost miss the rise of cheers that rise through the arena. You look up as Josie grabs your arm in one hand and her side of the sign in the other. You’re yanked back to the present as a familiar blur of green whips down the ice towards you. The team heads down to their end of the ice to start warming up and you remember to lift your edge of the sign as your eyes dart furiously from one player to the next, searching for number 68 and any sign of Javy. You hear the kids screaming for their dad in the corner of your consciousness, followed by the pound of their little hands against the glass as Reuben skates up.

Your eyes turn more frantic even though you know he’s here somewhere, he has to be. Your heart thunders in your chest as the unreasonable doubts start crawling in and making a home in your aching chest. You miss the moment a figure on the ice stops until a full body slams into the glass in front of you making the whole wall shake and then you’re looking at Javy’s full grin and wide eyes and he looks like an excited puppy as he gapes at you. You can’t help the excited grin that bubbles to the surface and matches his. You wave slightly as you place your hands on the glass over his on the other side.

“Hi,” you whisper even though you know he won’t be able to hear you.

“Hi,” he breathes back. His breath clouds the glass and your stomach flips when he draws a lopsided heart and writes “hi” inside it. You giggle as grins at you. Your moment is broken as Jake skates by and grabs Javy by the back of his jersey playfully. He blows you a kiss as he drags Javy back towards warmups. You try not to think too hard about the fact that Javy’s eyes stay on you the entire time before they disappear back down the tunnel.

***

You know you should be focussing on the score. It’s currently tied at 1-1 but instead, you’re still dizzy over the adrenaline of the day and the way Javy’s playing at the top of his game today. He’d assisted Jake’s goal in the second period, and you spent the whole break watching the replays online since it was on the other side of the rink. The score remains tied and the clock is running on the third period. Your lips are gnawed to hell as you watch the clock drop lower and lower. This period the Dogfighters are shooting on your side of the rink and you’ve been glued to the glass since it started. You wince as one of Seattle’s defensemen scuffles with Javy by the boards feet away from you, digging at the puck as it slides between their sticks and skates. Your brow furrows as a stray elbow catches Javy’s shoulder and you shout out in protest, as your hands find the glass where you bang alongside the Seattle fans. When you hear them cheering for the other player, you hear your voice rise, cheering for Javy amidst the louder screams. You’re caught up in the fever, the adrenaline of the game, the excitement of the day, and seeing your boyfriend. You catch his eye briefly as his eyes dart up unconsciously and you swear he winks at you, sending heat up your cheeks and knocking the breath from your lungs. Javy manages to dig the puck out of the corner and you watch as he knocks it backward to where Jake’s waiting to whisk it off towards the goal. Your heart is in your throat as you watch Jake’s approach, the opposing defense coming up to try and block his path to the goal. His linemates are trying to open themselves up for a pass but there are no open paths on the ice.

You watch his stick swing anyway, but you don’t see the puck fly into the fray. Your brow furrows in confusion until you watch Javy shoot out from behind him, the puck dancing along the edge of his stick, completely unmarked. Your stomach flips as you see the look on his face. For a moment it feels like you’re watching the sun come out from behind the clouds as you take in the boyish grin stretched across Javy’s face. His eyes are glinting with mischief you’ve seen plenty of times on your students’ tiny faces, and he’s glowing with confidence as he whips down the ice. Your heart is in your throat as you watch the other players slowly realize where the puck has gone and then you watch the black disk fly off the end of Javy’s stick. The goalie starts to move in his direction, but it’s clear he hasn’t realized Javy’s shot until it’s too late and his glove is still inches away as the puck sails over his shoulder.

You’re sure you’re screaming and then Josie’s screaming and she’s grabbing you and you’re grabbing her, and you can’t take your eyes off him as he roars in triumph and then he’s pointing with both hands and you’re trying to understand what at, it doesn’t make any sense and then he’s laughing and you read his lips as he tries to contain himself. “You.” Your brows furrow and you look down at yourself in confusion before turning around to look behind you as Josie laughs beside you as the other boys start crowding Javy.

Josie grasps your shoulders as your confusion grows. “It’s you, Roadie.”

“W-what’s me?” You ask, glancing back towards the ice where Javy’s getting set up for the next face-off.

You look back in time to see Josie shake her head, a fond look in her eyes. “Everything,” she says before giving you a tight hug and you feel your stomach twist as you watch the jumbotrons replay the goal and you watch Javy point at the stands all over again. Oh. You. You’ve spent your whole adult life expecting not to be chosen, never expecting to be anything but the butt of a joke, that you weren’t worthy of being chosen. People look through you, people look past you, people don’t look at you, people don’t see you. And yet in the last month, you’ve felt more seen than you have in the last thirty years of your life. They look at you, they see you. He sees you.

You don’t hear the whistle, you don’t hear the last of the game, you don’t hear the horn as the clock runs out. You’re overwhelmed, and you’ve been overwhelmed before, but it’s different this time. The usual fear, the pain, the panic, none of that is what you feel now. “Roadie?” You blink and realize belatedly that you’re crying and you turn to her and throw your arms around her neck.

“Thank you, just thank you.” You don’t recognize the sound of your voice as you shake your head and just hold your best friend. She doesn’t question it and holds you back like she already knows, and maybe she does.

***

You place a hand over your knee to try and stop the way it’s restlessly bouncing as you sit on the bench in some hallway, waiting for Javy. You’re not a spouse, so you weren’t allowed into the locker room area with Josie and the kids. A member of the Kraken’s staff had led the four of you to the private section of the stadium and you’ve been waiting for at least an hour. You turn your phone on, glancing at the clock and debating texting Javy but you know he’s probably just finishing up his post-game responsibilities. He knows you’re here. He’ll find you. You stifle a yawn as you stare at the screen, your stomach dropping as you realize how few hours you have until you’ll have to head back to the airport and back to your life.

You close your eyes, trying to ignore the math that your brain insists on doing because it’s not enough and you’re not ready to be back home, exhausted and alone, thrust back into your routine for another three days until Javy gets home. You barely suppress a groan as you lean your head against the wall behind you, trying to reconcile the consequences of your actions as the lull in the business of the day gives you a break from the adrenaline that’s been coursing through you all day. You’re slowly descending into a spiral of your own thoughts when you hear the squeak of hinges in your periphery and you turn your head, your body sitting up, the giddy excitement of seeing Javy beating out the exhaustion settling into your bones as you watch the corner, begging Javy to come around it.

You’ve barely caught enough of his silhouette to confirm it’s him before you’re bouncing off the bench and running for him. Running to him is a blur, but then you’re in his arms, and the scent of sweat mixed with his cologne engulfs your nose and you feel the tension melt out of your body as you settle against him. The two of you stay silent for a long beat, your bodies refamiliarizing themselves with the feeling of holding the other, committing it to memory, to carry the two of you through the rest of the week. When the two of you finally choose to speak, it happens at the same time.

“Thank you,” Javy whispers into your hair.

“Thank you,” You croak, your voice breaking over the words all over again. The silence that falls between you is comfortable and you can tell he’s waiting for you to go first so you tell him the words that have been on your lips for the last hour. “Thank you for seeing me.” Your chest heaves shakily as you fight the words out, but his arms just tighten around you as he holds you, like he’d physically hold you together if you shattered to pieces.

He pulls back and removes his hands from your waist to cup your cheeks as his dark eyes look into yours and straight through to your soul. “You’re impossible to miss.” He says as he strokes his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks, and when he says it, you find that it’s not so hard to believe it. “Thank you for coming,” he whispers before running his nose against yours, your lips just shy of ghosting over each other.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” you whisper back, and when he kisses you it feels like you’ve let out a breath you’ve been holding for the last week.

“Alright, Meep,” Javy says when he finally pulls away, leaning his forehead against yours, arms returning to your waist to keep you close, “you gonna tell me what you’re doing here, beautiful?” You feel your cheeks heat even though you’re already in his arms, and he’s already kissed you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javy.” It sounds so silly as you say the words, but you wonder if that’s because it’s the first time you’ve said them romantically.

He chuckles softly before pressing a simple kiss to your lips “Happy Valentine’s Day, Meep, but I mean what’re you doing in Seattle on a school night.” You shrug slightly because you don’t really have an answer.

“Josie’s the right brand of crazy and she has the budget to back it up?” You both laugh at that.

“I hate to ruin the mood,” Javy says before closing his eyes for a moment, “but when do you leave?” Your stomach drops again. In the joy of being reunited with Javy, you’d forgotten that you’ll have to leave him again in just a few short hours.

“We have a red-eye back to San Diego so we can make it back to work tomorrow,” you explain and you know Javy’s doing his best not to mirror the disappointment you’re feeling. “But you’ll be back in San Diego on Friday, right? That’s not so bad.” One glance at him says that he believes your words about as much as you do. “But at least we have tonight,” you relent.

“At least we have tonight,” he agrees. “Well then, let’s not waste a second.” He leads you out of the stadium. Most fans have since dispersed, returning home since it’s a Tuesday. The area around the stadium is lit with lights as and there are a fair amount of people milling around. Javy takes your hand and leads you through the park surrounding the stadium as you crane your neck back to get a good look at the Space Needle as it closer and closer.

There are a few people milling around and entering the Space Needle as you and Javy approach the ticket desk. The lady at the desk’s eyes widen in recognition as Javy purchases tickets for the two of you. When you enter, you stay close to Javy, feeling nerves bubble like butterflies as the photographer takes your picture and you watch Javy give him him email address for the photos. “My privacy is already nonexistent, there’s no need to compromise yours,” he explains when you offer to give yours instead. You walk up the spiral walkway to the elevator with Javy’s hand in yours. The ride to the top is silent and you’re sure you notice the elevator attendance staring at the two of you. The fact that you’re wearing Javy’s last name on your back doesn’t really help with the subtlety.

When the elevator doors open your breath catches in your throat. There are glass walls separating you from the balcony that wraps around the room the elevator opens onto, but you can already see the lights of Seattle twinkling from here. You find yourself dragging Javy to the balcony. The city of Seattle is alight all around you. From here you can see Climate Pledge Area, the rest of the park, and various museums in the area around you. You can also see the darkness of Elliot Bay. As you make your way around the balcony, you come face to face with the dazzling skyscrapers of downtown as the city itself sprawls out into the distance. It’s gorgeous and your fingers itch to paint the stunning view. You pull out your phone, snapping some inspiration photos. You’re already planning how you’re going to approach the painting when Javy slides his arms around your waist from behind, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

“What’s going on in your pretty little head, Meep?” He asks and you feel embarrassment creep over you for just abandoning him when he brought you up here and came all the way here to see him.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about how much I want to paint this view,” You explain as you gaze out at the city below you.

“Well, I can’t wait to see it,” Javy whispers. “And I hope I have first dibs when it goes on sale,” he murmurs, nuzzling your cheek gently.

“Javy, I’m not making you pay for my art!” You exclaim indignantly, leaning into him as the wind off the bay whips around the two of you. Javy wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you close.

“Pretty girl, where is your coat?” He asks as he snuggles you.

“We live in San Diego, I don’t have one!” You grumble indignantly. “It doesn’t get this cold there,” he nods against your shoulder.

“Okay, that is true, I’ll give you that.” He rubs your arms. “At least you’re wearing long sleeves,” he points out.

“Do you like it?” You’d been too shy to ask last time. Well, that and last time you hadn’t been wearing his name as his real girlfriend.

“I love it,” he says with a forcefulness that makes your heart flutter.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” You wiggle out of his grip to get the box out of your purse. “I know we’re going to celebrate on Saturday, but I figured since I was going to be here, I could give you your gift today!”

“Meep,” Javy groans. “You came all this way, you didn’t have to get me anything, plus I don’t have your gift here,” he bemoans and you wave him off.

“You didn’t know I was coming, and neither did I until yesterday, so I had already gotten you a gift. Plus, you bought the tickets to come up here,” you remind him. You hand him the narrow box and he arches a curious eyebrow as you draw the sleeves of your jersey over your hands and hug your arms around yourself. Javy notices and gently guides you so that your back is to the building behind you and he’s blocking the wind with his body before he opens the box. You hold your breath anxiously as he unwraps the paper inside before his breath catches.

“Roadie…” he murmurs and you swallow hard, trying to decipher if you’ve hit the nail on the head or missed it entirely. Javy lifts the tie out of the box, examining it in the light that’s filtering out from inside. You’ve covered the originally-white fabric with fabric paint, doing your best to recreate a slice of the cliff painting he bought at your show. And there at the very bottom are the embracing figures that represent him and you. “Roadie, this is beautiful. Did you paint this?” His voice is full of awe as he looks at you and you nod.

“I know it’s not the most faithful recreation but fabric paint is pretty fickle. I thought maybe you could wear it with one of your game day suits.” You admit. While exploring the team’s Instagram account you found the highlight of game day suit posts, and that had inspired you to make the tie.

“I’m getting rid of every other tie I own when I get home,” Javy declares and your eyes widen in horror.

“But this is blue, and it won’t match every suit!” You protest and he chuckles.

“Well then I’ll just get rid of all the blue ones, and every year I can get rid of a different color.” You see the nerves dancing in his eyes at the boldness of his statement, at the assumption that there will be more years. That you’ll be together long enough for a dozen Valentine’s Days and a dozen ties.

“Well I do take requests,” you say and you watch the anxiety leave his shoulders and you kiss your boyfriend at the top of the Space Needle on the night of your very first Valentine’s Day, and everything is perfect.

A/N: The Valentine’s Day festivities aren’t quite done yet, what do we think Javy has planned for Saturday?