#add some salt to your kill today mutuals

[raineydays411]

And the adventure begins

Bruce Banner x daughter!reader 

A/n: yay! Another part out! Finally lol. Now time to work on my Loki fic and ignore this one for two weeks lol💀 jk I’m trying to keep up y’all I promise. Anyway hope you like it💕💕

Masterlist

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Now that you think about it, maybe you shouldn’t have skipped school today. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation. 

....On another planet. Watching Thor be forced to fight some old dudes “Champion”, whatever that means.

Let’s go back to the beginning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nerves filled your body as you walked to school. You had an audition in the school play today and you were determined to get the part. Tony had offered to take you to school today but you decided to walk as it would give you extra time to learn your lines. As you pushed through the busy streets, occasionally bumping into a random pedestrian, you heard some girls whispering.

“Oh my god is that..”

“Yes! oh my go, he's so handsome”

“Ask him for a selfie”

“No you go ask hm”

At first you rolled your eyes, thinking it was just some youtuber or Tik tok star, you kept walking, eyes down re-reading your script. Then you heard the girls speak again. 

“Thanks Thor, I’m sorry Jane dumped you.” 

Hearing the name, your head swiveled up. You scanned the crowd looking for the blonde man, at first missing him as he wasn’t in his usual outfit of a cape and battle armour. But then you saw him, in a hoodie and some jeans. Picking up the pace, you jog toward the god not noticing the darker clothed man next to him.

“....it was a mutual dumping”

“I didn’t know the renaissance fair was in town” you say, a small smirk making its way on your face at the quip. 

Both Thor and ...Loki?! Turn around in surprise at the sudden voice behind them. Only to see you looking up at them with a arched brow. 

“Lady Y/n! How wonderful it is to see you” Thor boomed as he brought you into a bone crushing hug. Over his shoulder you could see Loki roll his eyes. 

“Honestly, had I known this trip would consist of young woman flocking to you, I would have allowed your hammer to kill me.”

Thor ignored his brother as he put you down. “My how you’ve grown.”

You smile and say, “Well the last time you saw me I was twelve.” Then you eye Loki with distrust. “Um Thor, why’d you bring brother dearest back to New York?” 

Loki looks at you with distaste, “ Who is this child, and why is she conversing with us?”

“Brother” Thor warns and then turns to you, “ Lady Y/n, we are searching for our father, it seems as if my brother” Thor harshly pats Loki on the shoulder, “ Has misplaced him.” 

You look at Loki and then look at the building that has been demolished

, “ Woah, I didn’t know Gods put their parents in nursing homes” You say “ If you want we can go back to the Tower and try to track him down”  

Thor smiles at the suggestion, “ A wonderful idea, tell me, how have my comrades been in my absence?” 

You cringe at the thought of explaining the events of the so called “Civil war”. Then notice a ring of sparks forming around Loki. 

“Uhh Thor” You say as you nod your head

“What’s this..wha.what are you doing?” He asks in alarm. Loki looks confused as the sparks get larger and more erratic.

“ This isn’t me” Loki says in confusion. Then suddenly the ground opens up beneath him and he falls through with an alarmed “Oh!” only leaving behind a business card. You and Thor look at each other, confusion written on both of your faces. 

“Loki” Thor whispers as he nudges the card with his umbrella. You look at him with concern and think to yourself

“Does..does he think the cards Loki?” 

You bend down to pick up the business card and read it out loud. 

“177a Bleeker St” you look at Thor and ask,” Do you know anyone from there?” 

“ No” He says, ‘ i don’t even know where that is.” 

You sigh, looking down at your script and making a decision. “ Well, lets go find your brother.” 

And with that, you turn around and start walking to your destination.

“Oh well, school can wait”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Thor find yourselves in front of two big black doors. You stand near Thor as he raises his hand to knock. Suddenly, before his hand is able to touch the door, you find yourselves inside the building. 

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself as you look around.

“Thor Odinson” a deep voice says. You look up to see a floating figure in the shadows coming towards you both. Thor pushes you behind him as he holds him umbrella threateningly. If you weren’t in potential danger, you would have laughed at the sight. The figure floated into the light and you saw it was a man. 

He was wearing a cloak and some weird robes with yellow gloves. He was relatively handsome, salt and pepper hair that was slicked back, high cheek bones and a goatee. He wasn’t horrible to look at. His deep, baritone voice was soothing.

“God of Thunder” He said looking at Thor. He glanced at the umbrella. “ You can put down the umbrella.” Then his gaze turned to you. 

“Y/n Banner. I wasn’t expecting you here” He said eyes narrowing at you,” Shouldn’t you be in school?”

You chuckled nervously, “ Eh, how can I abandon a friend in need?” 

The man smiles and looks back at Thor and suddenly your in a different room. Looking around in awe you hear Thor start talking.

“So..Earth has wizards now” He says, picking up a dagger from a display on a table, then dropping all of them trying to put them back. You try to hold back a laugh, feeling embarrassed for the god. 

You might have failed though because Thor looked at you with an unimpressed glance. You giggle out loud this time, as you watch him struggle with the knives. Everytime he managed to put one back, another fell. 

“The preferred term is Master of the Mystic arts...” Clank! another knife falls. The man looks very unimpressed, at your giggling and Thor's clumsiness.” You can leave that now.” 

At those words Thor leaves the knifes, trying to regaine his cool, he leans against the table. 

“Alright wizard, who are you and why should I care?” 

“Thor! That’s rude!”  

Ignoring you, their conversation continues, 

“My name is Dr. Stephen Strange and I have some questions for you.”  He says as he eyes you and Thor. “Have a seat”  

Within a second you’re in another room in the building...or least you think it is. The wind blows your hair back as you are suddenly dropped into a chair. You can see Thor look around startled and confused at the sudden setting change. You’re sure your face mirrored his as well.

“Tea?” Dr. Strange asks nonchalantly, a cup of tea appearing in your hands. You look at it in awe, not used to this level of magic, or magic at all. Thor on the other hand looked unimpressed with the cup.

“I don’t drink tea.” He says examining the cup that looked small in his hands. 

“Well what do you drink?”

“Not tea.” Thor says shaking his head. You roll you eyes as you go for a sip of tea, but before you can a large pitcher of beer was in its place. You look up at the two men with a raised eyebrow. 

“I hate to be a bother, but I do drink tea” 

Strange looked at you in amusement as he returns the beer to tea. 

“Jesus made water into wine, you make beer into tea. Interesting..” You say as you sip your tea. It was perfectly brewed of course. Dr. Strange smiled at the comparison

“Well its not exactly like that” Then he turned to Thor, “ So, I keep a watch list of individuals and beings from the realms that may be a threat to this world. Your adopted brother Loki is one of those beings.” 

You scoff and roll your eyes and mutter, “Yeah no kidding.” Then you finish the last sips of tea, as you bring it down, the glass is already refilled

Thor looks up from his glass that he basically chugged,”Thats a worthy inclusion” His beer is refilled as well. He looks at it in astonishment.

“Then why bring him here?” Strange asks leaning forward.

“We’re looking for my father.” 

“So..if I were to tell you where Odin was..all parties concerned would return to Asgard” He then looks at you, “ or upper Manhattan.” 

“Promptly” “Try and keep me away from this place.” 

“Great then I’ll help you...and get to that later” 

You smirk at the doctor, knowing that it’s basically impossible to squash your curiosity once you get started. Then you realized something.

“Wait, if you knew where Odin is, why didn't you tell anyone?”

“Well he was very adamant he was not to be disturbed,” He turned to Thor, “Your father had chosen to remain in exile. Also you don’t have a phone.” 

“Hmm, no I don’t have a..a phone but you could’ve sent an electronic letter. It’s called an email.”

“Thor you don’t have a computer.”

“What for?” 

You lock eyes with Dr. Strange and share a look. 

“Uh huh well, my father is no longer in exile, so if you can tell me where he is, the quicker I can take him home.” Thor then takes a sip of his beer.

“Okay, hes in Norway.” Suddenly your on your feet again standing an a library of some sort. You’re a bit unbalance and catch yourself on the self. Strange is muttering to himself as he looks through a book. Then again, you’re in another room with a shelf. Nearly falling over you cling onto Thor, but he’s in no better shape than you, beer spilling everywhere. 

“Oh we don’t need that” Boom, in another room, this time you do fall and Thor breaks another shelf. He places the glass on a table, shaking the spilled beer of his person. 

“Can you stop doing that?” He asked irritated 

“Please” you add in, looking up from your place on the ground. 

You’re on your feet in a blink of an eye, feeling dizzy at the continuous movement. 

“Can I..I need a piece of your hair.” Strange says looking at Thor. 

“Let me tell you something, my hair is not to be --OW” 

You smile sweetly as you pass the yanked out hair to the Strange. “ Here you go Dr. Wizard.”  He makes a face at the nickname but takes the hair with a nod of thanks. Thor looks at you in betrayal. 

“Don’t be such a drama queen” You say rolling your eyes.  You then walk away from the duo, examining books and artifact that were in the room. You were too caught up in looking at all the cool stuff you didn’t pay attention to the rest of the conversation. Suddenly you were in the front room again. You managed to stay on your feet as Thor tumbled down the stairs. You watched in amazement as Dr. Strange did some hand movements and created a shape in sparks. 

“Could’ve just walked.” Thor muttered as he brushed the dust and wrinkles out off of his clothes. 

“He’s waiting for you.” Then Dr. Strange turned to you,” Would you like to go home Ms. Banner?” 

You looked at him with consideration,” Um Mister Strange, do you think you can help me find my dad?” 

“I’ll see what I can do.” Then he turned to Thor,” Don’t forget your umbrella.

“Oh right.” Thor sticks his arm out like he’s summoning his hammer. You look at him confused. Then you here several bangs and crashes, as if something is being thrown around the rooms. 

“ohhh thats where your hammer went” 

Dr. Strange looks at Thor unimpressed again.

“Sssorry” The umbrella lands in his hands and he brushes the glass off the hammer.” I suppose I need my brother back”

“Oh right”

The a portal appears a few feet off the ground, in comes Loki screaming as he falls and hits the ground. 

He flips his hair back as he catches his breath, “ I have been falling..FOR THIRTY MINUTES” 

You snicker as you go to help the god of mischief up,” Come on reindeer games, lets get you up” 

He doesn’t decline your help but he doesn’t thank you either. You turn to see Thor and Strange shake hands.

“Handle me?!” “Oh boy” “ Who are you?”

“Loki..”

“You think you’re a sorcerer? Don’t think for one minute--”

“Alright bye bye” The portal then is thrown to them as Loki charges with two daggers. 

It’s silent in the room as you whislte,” Well he’s very catty.”

Strange laughs as he nods,” Come on kid lets find your dad.”

You’re then taken back to the library and you give him a piece of your hair. 

“You have had quite the adventure today.” Dr. Strange says as he looks through the books again.

“Ehh, when you live with the Avengers stuff like this is an everyday thing.”

“I could imagine” He says smiling at you. “ Well..it seems like your father is off world”

“Off world?” You question,”why would he be...?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Then a bag appeared in front of you. 

“I have a feeling you won’t stop searching until you find your father.” He nods to the bag. “ Everything you need to survive in Sakkarr is in there, I trust you know how to use knives?” 

“Yeah, Bucky taught me.”

“Perfect, now you must try to get on the grandmasters good side, that’ll give you the resources you need to find your father. Don’t get caught by scavenger or scrapper , you’ll either get eaten or sold into slavery.”

“Slavery?” you ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Sakkarr is known to be the ‘dump’ of the universe. It’s filled with people you must be weary of. The main entertainment are these gladiator type fights the Grandmaster puts on.” He thinks for a bit the conjures up a portal. He pulls a amulet out of it then hands it to you. “If you find your father, or need a quick escape, rub this amule three times t and I’ll make a portal for you to come back home” 

You nod, nervous to go on your personal mission. You look up at Dr.strange and hug him. “ Thanks Dr.Wizard.”

He pats your back uncomfortably,” It’s Stephen.” 

You let go of him and smile,”Well, beam me up Scotty” 

He rolls his eyes and creates a portal, you take a deep breath and look at him. He sends you a reassuring smile and you’re filled with determination. Then you step through.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You step through it to see...the steps to some weird looking palace. You look around to see an even weirder looking city. It looks like its built out of scraps of metal or parts. You walk up the steps and into the palace. You look around, astonished at the amount of people?? 

Beings. So many different kinds of aliens. All different colors and shapes. It was like a Star Wars movie. Then you see a familiar face. 

“Loki??” 

He looks up at you in confusion, you speed towards him, happy to see a familiar face. Even if it is Thor's evil brother.

“Ah Thor's child friend. This doesn’t seem like your type of setting.”

“I’m looking for my father, Stephen says he’s here.” 

He scoffs, looking around the room. “It seems everyone is looking for their fathers.” 

“What are you doing here? I thought you were in Norway with Thor and your dad” 

“Well it seems that father dearest has been hiding a secret daughter. Who appeared after my father died. And is destined to destroy Asgard.”

“Well shit” you blurt out. “Are..are you okay?”

Loki looks at you like you’re a puzzle. 

“What.”

“Well..” you start nervously, “it sounds like a traumatic experience, so..are you okay?”

He’s quiet for a few minutes, just staring at you. Suddenly he turns around. “We must see the grandmaster. He’s the only one who can guarantee your protection, and I’m sure you would prefer not to be slaughtered brutally in the competition.”

He walks ahead of you, and you stare after him wondering what just happened. Then after he noticed you’re not following him he turns and says

“Well, come on. I haven’t got all day.”

“Oh right.” You catch up to him and walk by his side. Looking around in wonder.

“Why are you looking around like that?” Loki asks as he makes his way through a crowd of...pink women. They had their hair in very intricate styles and weird metallic unitards. They eyed you as you passed by them.

“I feel like I’m in a Star Wars movie.” You pass by a man, he looked almost reptilian. He had pale yellow skin with green slits as his eyes. He looks like he was gambling or something.

“I don’t know what that is. Why would stars commence in battle? It makes no sense.” Loki scoffs as he turns to look at you. You laugh at his misunderstanding.

“I just..never seen..” you trail off not knowing how to explain. Luckily, Loki seems to get what you were says.

“ I can see this is a bit of a change for you. But..you have seen people from other planets before.”

“ yeah..it’s just a lot to take in.” You smile at Loki, “ I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I can freak out about it after I meet the Grandmaster.”

He nods his head and starts walking again, but this time he’s closer to you. Finally, you reach a large room. It’s filled with guards all wearing different colored armor. They part as Loki walks through them, confident with long strides. You follow him, shrinking under their gaze. Loki leans down to whisper to you

“ when you meet the grandmaster, do not be too meak . And do not mention anything about your father till I tell you. Actually, just follow my lead.”

You look up at him and before you say anything, a large woman appears in the room. She looks normal to you. Stocky, a stern face with white markings. A slicked back bun. She’s wearing yellow armor with black accents. She’s holding a large staff with an orb attached to the end.

“ Didn’t the Grandmaster just see you” she says to Loki, glaring at him. Loki smiles charmingly and says

“Oh yes, but it appears that I have found a...friend.. of mine. She, like I, has arrived here on Sakkarr by accident and is hoping to meet with the Grandmaster.”

Then Loki nudges you in front of him, and into the view of the woman. She looks at you with distaste.

“ Poor child is skin and bones. She’s puny.”

You look in offense, but before you can say anything Loki spoke for you.

“Yes, and that’s why I have decided to take her under my wing.”

“ Can she not speak for herself? You expect the Grandmaster to—“ “ Easy Topaz”

“Loki! How wonderful to see you again, even though it’s been about twenty minutes”

A voice cut through the air. Suddenly everyone in the room stood up straight. Topaz immediately stopped talking and turned. A man came in on a floating throne. He was wearing red, blue, and gold robes. He had a blue line down his chin and blue under eye liner. He...he looked like..

“Jeff Goldblum?”

Loki looked at you like you were insane and the Grandmaster and Topaz just looked confused.

“What did she call me?” He whispered to Topaz, she looked at him in equal bafflement. She then tries to hand him the staff.

“ Why are you handing me the melty stick?! She had a slip of a tounge! That’s not a capital offense”

“What is wrong with you?” “I’m sorry! It just slipped out!” “ Do you want to die” “To be fair, that was the biggest compliment I could have given him. Jeff Goldblum is basically a god of cinema.”

Topaz looked at the Grandmaster, “ apparently this..Jeff.. is a god from her world.”

“Hm, child.”

You and Loki stop your whisper arugument and turn to the Grandmaster.

“Come forward.”

You look at Loki in fear and step up to the floating throne.

“Hm” The man says as he examines you. You suddenly feel self conscious about what you’re wearing. A Jurassic park shirt (ironically) with a turtleneck under, some plaid pants and converse. To be fair you weren’t expecting to end up on a different planet.

“I don’t know what Jurassic park is, but look there’s a big lizard on her shirt” he says to Topaz, “ you like lizards?” He asks you. Your eyes widened at the question not expecting it.

“Oh I think I’ve embarrassed her, it’s okay if you like them. I don’t personally like them, they’re all scales and fast and blegh” the Grandmaster rambles then Topaz chimes in

“ and they can grow back limbs”

“Yes! That’s disgusting”

“ I’m sorry, it’s not a lizard, it’s a dinosaur ” you explain. “ it’s from a movie, it has Jeff Goldblum...”

You trail off as they stare at you.

“ Go on, you keep mentioning this Jeff Goldblum, I’d like to hear more about him.”

So there you were, explaining all the different movies Jeff Goldblum was in. From the Fly to Jurassic Park. Everyone seemed...intrested. The Grandmaster somehow got it in his head that you were this great storyteller. So now you were on his good side, just like Loki.

“ Storyteller, I welcome you to Sakkarr! I have never met a child with such interesting stories!” He turns to Topaz, “ Aren’t they entertaining?! So adventurous!”

“ I think they’re weird.” “ Oh don’t be such a buzzkill”

“ I thank you Grandmaster, for being so gracious with my...ward” Loki says, “I assure you that I will keep her out of trouble.”

“ Yes yes, now go, if she is going to stay here, she’ll need to fit in. Topaz, see if you can find a tailor for the child, she’ll need a change of clothes. You as well Loki”

She nods and gestures for you both to follow her. As you walk through the futuristic castle, you are completely in awe. Even though you live with Tony, this is a different kind of technology. Topaz gives you both a tour. She mentions the fights and the arena, but you don’t pay too much attention. Finally you make it to the tailor. After being fussed over and much debating, you finally come to an agreement.

You end up with a sort of body armor. With a black catsuit made out of a leather like material, there were pieces of armor covering your legs, hips, torso, shoulders and arms. Blue fabric was wrapped around your waist, draping down the front and under the armor there. There was also fabric wrapped around your upper arm and shoulders preventing the straps from rubbing against your skin. Finally, to top it all off, a long blue cape drape down your shoulders. You felt awesome. You took the daggers Stephen gave you out of the bag and attached them to your hips. And the amulet around your neck.

“What do you think?” You asked Loki. He looked at you for a bit.

“Your daggers should be attached to your thighs, that way the hilts are at your fingertips and not your shoulders.” He squints for a bit, “ that cape looks ridiculous.”

“Fuck off man I look awesome.”

Loki just laughs and goes to put his outfit on. “ Such foul language for a child.” Then he comes out fully dressed. With a yellow cape.

“ oh? My cape was ridiculous?”

“Hush.”

You smile, and a silence falls between you both. You sigh and look down, playing with the end of your cape. Loki looks at you, examines your face, then looks away.

“ Why...why did you ask if I was alright?” He questions, “when you first saw me..?”

You looked at him your face scrunched in a puzzled expression, “ because.”

“Because what?” Loki asks, not understanding where your coming from.

“ I don’t know, because like I said, something that traumatic must’ve been shitty. I know I wouldn’t be okay.”

“I do not understand you. Why care about someone you never met? Nevertheless someone like me?”

“Someone like you?” Now you were really confused. What does he mean by that?

“No midgardian would trust me. Especially after...” He stops, hinting about the attack of New York. “ I am not... not a good person. Nor a good influence. Not for a child.”

“That’s bullshit.”

Your words seem to startle him.

“I beg your pardon?”

“ That’s. Bullshit.” You stand to face him.

“Loki, I’ve known you for about six hours. And in that time, you managed to help me gain favor of a ruler, enough for him to give me a room to stay in and new clothes. You also helped me when you could’ve just left me alone. From what I’ve seen, you’re pretty chill.”

“Chill?” He asks quirking an eyebrow.

“A good person.”

He stops and looks at you, “ you think I’m a good person? Even though I nearly destroyed your planet?”

“ Sure. We all make mistakes.”

He stares at you for a while. Smiles briefly and then gets up from where he was leaning.

“ You, my dear, are one odd child.” He walks out of the room. “Come along, I must get you to your room. It’s late and I am certain you e had a long day.”

You follow him to your room, turns out someone was paying attention to the tour. He leads you to your temporary room, shows you how to open the door and lock it, then makes sure your settled.

“Well, it’s time for me to retire. Good night child.”

When he doesn’t get a response he turns around, he sees you’ve fallen asleep on the bed. He chuckles at the sound of you muttering in your sleep.

“ An odd child indeed.”

Then he covers you, turns out the lights and shuts the door. Leaving you to go to his room.

( he promptly freaks out over how quickly he’s grown fond of you.)

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Taglist: @ella-ivanov​

#thor ragnarok #bruce banner x daughter!reader #loki x teen!reader #marvel x reader #loki x poc!reader #avengers x teen!reader #bruce banner imagine #bruce banner #hulk #marvel #thor odinson #reader insert #poc reader #thor odison x reader #dr strange

[an-aura-about-you]

Drinking Acquaintances

I’ve been listening to a Lunar 1 let’s play during work and I decided to write in that universe again.

Nash holds his drink up, the light from the Blue Star tinted green from the amber in his glass. The ale (he THINKS it’s ale) in Lann isn’t bad in theory, though that’s an assumption since he hasn’t tried it yet. But he knows what drinks he likes and this generally isn’t what he looks for. He can already tell from the aroma that whatever this is is sweeter than his tastes, which means either it’s been sweetened or it’s not going to be very strong. Taste might not be why he wants to drink it, but it’s going to be more of a chore if he has to drink a lot of it.

He decides to stop stalling and drink the damn draught.

Nash gets about half the glass down, pulling a face when he stops. It’s growing on him, but wow, it’s so sweet and full-bodied he might as well be drinking straight honey. He wonders if Kyle would bother drinking this or if it’s more suitable to Jessica or Mia’s tastes. Either way, sober beggars can’t be choosers.

Down the hatch.

“Hey Nash!”

Nash nearly chokes on his drink but fortunately manages to get it down the right pipe.

Kyle leans over to check on him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Just surprised to see you drinking. It really must be the end of the world.”

Nash wipes his mouth with his wrist and goes, “Some of us have discerning tastes. All that’s happened is you’ve caught me making an exception. Speaking of, it’s rare to see you intelligible.”

“The night is young and I’ve only just started,” Kyle says before taking a swig from his own glass. “But I kinda wanna take this to Tamur so that maybe it’ll be a good glass of beer when it grows up.”

Nash stifles a laugh. “Imagine that, we agree on something.”

“Not to mention the both of us being smart enough to not turn down free booze.”

Kyle has a point on that. One glass down, no idea how many more to go, but at least they’re not the ones paying for them thanks to Lann naming Alex an honorary citizen and letting the alcohol flow like water. It won’t be enough for alcohol poisoning at this rate, but Nash can still work himself into a good, proper stupor and maybe not think about how screwed he is.

He already needs another drink.

“Are we the only ones drinking?” Nash asks, waving over someone with a bottle for a refill.

“I think we’re the only ones not done,” Kyle answers. “Jess already had her fill, and Alex and Mia turned it down.” He grins and says, “One of these days, Jess is gonna talk Mia into a drink, and then it’ll be all over for the two of us.”

“Mia doesn’t-,” Nash begins, but he backpedals to say, “I’ve never seen Mia drink.”

Kyle shrugs his arms wide. “So? Doesn’t mean she can’t if she wants to. ‘Snot like you’re the boss of her.”

Nash looks down at his glass at that. Every choice in front of him is the wrong one. Might as well keep it up. He takes another drink.

“Hey Nash.”

Nash turns to Kyle, the brigand wearing an oddly serious frown. It’s not that he’s never seen it before. It’s just usually not directed to him.

“I wanted to apologize,” Kyle says. “For teasing you about Mia back in Damon’s Spire.”

Nash scowls and furrows his brow. “No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I do!” Kyle insists. “Look, Nash, I know we don’t always see eye to eye, that’s probably never gonna happen.”

“Then why are you bothering, especially when you know I don’t believe you?” Nash asks before taking another sip.

“Because the way you looked when you saw Mia fall over sick in Pao was the way I felt when I saw the same thing happen to Jess.”

It’s Kyle’s turn to take a drink after that, and Nash contemplates his words in the brief silence.

Kyle continues with, “I see that look in a man’s eyes, I know he’s gonna do for his girl what I’d do for Jess. It doesn’t feel right calling that a crush.”

“To be fair, Jessica was the one who called it a crush,” Nash points out.

“Yeah, but I was thinking it pretty loud.”

Nash considers this as he works on what’s in his glass. Once he’s made a bit more headway, he says, “Well, thank you, Kyle. I actually do appreciate that.”

“Yeah, well, don’t expect me to make a habit of it,” Kyle replies.

“Perish the thought. I likewise hope you don’t take me for a drunkard.”

Kyle makes a scoffing laugh and goes, “You? You can’t be a drunk until you actually try drinking with me.”

Nash gestures with his glass and says, “I should stand a little ways away, then. I wouldn’t want to think of us developing any sort of camaraderie.”

“Woah, let’s not go crazy. I don’t hate you, but we’re not going that far.”

Nash laughs in spite of himself.

“Hey, look at that: you actually do have a sense of humor!” Kyle says.

“It’s the drink,” Nash protests.

“C’mon, even you aren’t that much of a lightweight.”

Rather than answer that, Nash gets another glass of ale and works to find the least risky discussion he can now so he can hopefully stay on it when he’s really gone.

Just tell him, his brain whispers. Tell him the truth and get your head lobbed off. It’ll be quicker and less painful than anything else that could happen. You wouldn’t even have to make any other choices.

He keeps drinking.

“So, what’re you gonna do when all this is over?” Kyle asks. “See if Mia will wanna settle down with you? You’d probably make a good trophy husband for her.”

Well, so much for that. Nash looks at what’s left in his glass, focusing on that and not what could happen. “The only future I’m looking at right now is another glass of ale.”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Kyle agrees, being tactful for once and not pushing Nash about his obvious sidestep.

It’s the last moment Nash remembers from the night, the last thing besides sickly sweet oblivion.

-

Nash steps into the Seagull Tavern, both grateful and a little pissed off that he can. It’s one thing to survive during a war. It’s another to survive during a war you’re going to lose. It’s yet another to survive during a war when you should be dead already and wonder why anyone bothered to bring you back when you’re just going to die again.

“You bastard.”

He isn’t surprised to hear that, but he still looks up to see who said it this time. It’s even less surprising to find it came from Kyle, who’s sitting at a table and on what looks to be at least his fifth drink judging from the glasses on the table.

“You bastard, Nash, you were right,” Kyle tells him with a brief, violent gesture of his glass. “Fuck you.”

“I deserve that,” Nash responds, approaching the table. “Believe it or not, I didn’t want to be right about this.”

“Shuddup,” he slurs. “If you’re not drinking, get outta here.”

“What else would I be doing in a tavern?” he asks in response. “I’ll even buy your next drink.”

Kyle scowls at him before relenting, a mirror to Nash’s own despair.

It shakes him a moment. He certainly doesn’t know the brigand well, but this is the first time he’s seen such sheer hopelessness cross his face. He never thought he’d have anything in common with the muscle-bound imbecile, especially this.

As if to hammer it home, Kyle says, “Why the hell not? What does it matter? We’re all gonna die anyway.”

“No, all of you are going to die,” Nash responds, taking a seat while thinking through their mutual resignation. “I’m going to get horribly tortured, and if I’m lucky I’ll die.”

“We were gonna do the same thing to you.”

“It’s not the same at all. Ripping me apart would still be more merciful than whatever Ghaleon has planned for me.” He waves over a waitress to order a drink. “Rewarded as a traitor deserves.”

Kyle looks over his glass in a slight fog of inebriated confusion. “I’d offer to help, but I don’t think I could take yer head off clean until I’m sober.”

“I can wait.”

He puts his glass down and says, “I’m never gettin’ sober again.”

“Well, thanks anyway. It’s the thought that counts, after all.”

Nash gets his drink, idly surprised that the Seagull Tavern actually does have cocktails as well as glasses to serve them in. But then, if there’s any cocktail that should be expected in any bar, it should be a nice, dry martini. He takes a sip and gets one more surprise, learning that it’s not as awful as he expected. In fact, it’s actually kind of good. Now this is the proper way, or at least the most proper way available to him, to get drunk.

“Shoulda known you drink cocktails,” Kyle says. “Wha’s next, a fuzzy navel?”

“I’m never going to drink anything sweet again,” Nash answers. “Not after that ale in Lann. That felt like it took forever.”

“Oh yeah,” Kyle responds. And then he adds with just enough anger riled up in his voice, “Can’t believe we were actin’ like friends. I shoulda killed you then.”

“If you had, it would have been the friendliest thing you ever did for me.”

“Yeah, well... I can’t now.”

Nash finishes his martini and moves to order another. “The only problem with this is it takes a while for the liquor to get to your head.”

“Somethin’ that never happens with beer,” Kyle points out.

“Oh let me have this; if everything’s going to hell, I might as well have a martini or two.”

“It does feel pointless,” Kyle agrees. “You know what? Fuck it. Y’did what y’did, but can’t stop it now. Why be pissed at you for th’ rest of our lives when we can drink?”

“Another rare agreement,” Nash says, holding his glass up in toast.

-

Nash looks out to the Meribian Sea, enjoying the salt of the night breeze and the martini in his hand. It’s the first moment he’s had alone since everything ended, time to contemplate his strange new situation.

For one thing, he’s alive. For another, so is everyone else he wanted to survive out of this. And not only are his companions not going to torture him, they’re actually all on about the best terms he can expect, some better than he hoped.

“Hey Nash!”

Well, so much for solitary thought, but Kyle showing up is not unwelcome this time around.

“Hey Kyle,” he greets back, not bothering to turn and face him. “What a surprise to see you here.”

“One day you’ll make a good joke, but that day’s not today,” Kyle responds, heading over with his glass of beer. “So, living in Meribia, huh? How you likin’ it?”

Nash shrugs. He didn’t get to that part yet, didn’t want to rush into it since it’s one of the bigger changes. But that’s Kyle, subtle as a sledgehammer.

“It’s weird,” Nash answers, pausing to sip his martini. “But anywhere that’s not Vane was going to feel weird to me. It seems like if I just look up in the right spot, I’ll see it. Even now, it feels like I’m spending too much time here and should go find Mia so we can go home.”

Kyle lets that sit a moment before saying, “Yeah. Is it too optimistic to think of it like being on vacation? I mean, you’ll get to go home eventually, right?”

Nash chuckles ruefully and goes, “Rebuilding Vane is going to take a lot of work.”

“It is,” Kyle agrees. “How’s Mia? Is she just as miserable about what happened as you are?”

“At this point, she’s more concerned about Majesty Lemia,” Nash answers. “And who can blame her? But even now, when she’s working, she’s already looking straight ahead at what Vane can become.”

“Man, you better not need me to tell you not to mess it up with Mia again.”

“I don’t plan on it, but if I do I’m acknowledging right here and now I deserve whatever I get. Fair?”

“Fair.”

“So, do you want to hear the other weird part?”

“Depends on how weird it is,” Kyle says before taking a drink himself.

“Not as weird as everything else but still odd: at this rate, you’re the person I’ve had the most drinks with.”

“That’s not so weird. I’m usually that person for everybody. No surprise Jess calls me an enabler.”

Nash shakes his head a little and says, “I wonder how bad it would get if all of us went out for a drink together.”

“Pretty sure that’s the definition of shitshow, Nash.”

“You’re probably right. Is it bad that I kind of want to see it anyway?”

“Nah,” Kyle says with a grin. “It’d probably be a funny shitshow.”

Nash shrugs. “Maybe it’ll happen one day. Who knows? Maybe one of these days we’ll go out to get a drink and actually plan to do it instead of one of us just butting in when the other one tries to drink.”

Kyle snorts into his glass. “Like drinking buddies? I dunno about that.”

“When you put it like that, you have a point. Us drinking buddies? The Blue Star might fall out of the sky before that happens.”

Nash immediately regrets his wording as soon as it leaves his mouth, shutting up to take another sip.

“Eh, we can still drink now,” Kyle says to gloss over it. “In any case, I’m not about to waste this brew.”

“Tell you what, we ever agree to go drinking anywhere, we’ll go to Tamur,” Nash suggests. “I never did get to try the beer last time, but anything’s bound to be better than Lann.”

“I can agree to that.” Kyle takes his turn to life his glass. “To not drinking in Lann ever again!”

“Cheers!” Nash toasts before the two of them get back to their drinks.

#note: this story has drinking with the intention of getting blackout drunk. reader discretion advised. #alcohol mention #suicidal ideation #also this is a piece of fanfiction that won't make sense unless you've gone through the game and know it pretty well #also yes in the game the people of Lann point out that they're kids #but it's also established that Kyle and Jessica are old enough to drink which means Nash is also old enough since he's Jessica's age #Alex and Mia are possibly too young but is that going to stop the party? nope!

[abs0luteb4stard]

One of the worst experiences with a doctor I've ever had.

So a week or two ago I went to a new psychiatrist. I asked if my mom could come in for my first session but this doctor said she'd prefer to have me come in first alone.

I didn't like it, but I thought I'll do it. That for the 2nd half of the session my mom could come in. Then add the session went on I thought perhaps she'll come in for the next time.

So she took my vitals and dais my heart rate and blood pressure were up. I said "well I'm nervous."

Then in the session all the standard questions and background and stuff. But I dunno I felt like she was "off" something in tone of voice or whatever.

Then she asked if I was on disability. I said I'm not sure I think, I forget what it's called.

She said "... Because we don't do disability consults here."

I said "I'm not here for that, and I think the government sends you to a doctor they choose anyway don't they? (I knew that much).

She said "typically they do."

In my head I already feel like she's looking down on me from on high.

Also she said on the questionnaire tablet I said my pain is high rated. And that I need to exercise to get my fibromyalgia under control. I said I have other physical problems. I told her what they were. She said you can't control those were gonna work with what we can control.

But those problems impact my physical activity. And they make my fibromyalgia activate pretty often.

But I left the office with a sense of her being cold to my issues. I tried to stay open. Perhaps it is just her "process".

"Next time", I thought.

I'll do these things, I allowed her to increase my medication. I'll go home and lightly exercise. Etc.

Out in the lobby my mom said how did it go? I said quizzically I think it's alright.

My mom said you didn't need me for the second half? I said I didn't really have a chance to say much I was answering all her questions. I didn't think of it.

My mom asked if I'd like her to go with me to talk to the doctor for a second. I said yes.

So we walked down the hall and my mom said that we felt she left my mom out and that why couldn't she be part of the session. She said "she doesn't see parents, she sees adults".

And my mom said because people with mental health issues need support and she's my support. That we don't have secrets and that kind of stuff. We speak openly about everything in our family.

I was nervous this whole thing I looked up and that doctor looked perturbed, and I saw she was judging my mom with her expression. Like my mom's some saboteur or controller. So she shooed us out, said we'll discuss next time, my mom apologized and the doctor closed her door.

I thought "We'll discuss it next time" was "we" including my mom.

In the interim I was supposed to see a psychologist she assigned me. But I didn't go one day because I had flared up fibromyalgia. Then I didn't go the second time because my dad with his stroke issues he was awake half the night confused and thinking he had to go to work or do something that's from long ago. So I was dog tired and just couldn't wake up.

So fast forward to yesterday:

I figured if she's says no to my mom coming in today then I'm not going in until she says yes.

So not only that but she shows up with the guy I cancelled 2 appointments on.

(Now I looked him up the day before yesterday. He's got some shit reviews or two. On doctor rating pages. It could be genuine or a disgruntled patient. But it made me wonder because I already felt snubbed by the lady psychiatrist)

Now I felt an ambush. But I tried to keep cool. She just wants to introduce him to me to get me to feel comfortable maybe. Okay think positive, right?

So I said can my mom come back with us this time?

She said "no I prefer to speak only with you."

I got loud because now my anxiety boiled over in one millisecond flat.

I said them "I said fine, she doesn't go back with me, theni don't go. I'm the patient and I want my mom there." It's my right!.

And she totally dismissed me! Like "fine".

Not as in fine my mom can come in, but fine then I guess you don't want help.

Human compassion? It didn't exist there.

My mom tried to talk to her plead our reasoning and case. But I was already deaf to everything. I can't remember much of what my mom said.

My mom said we can do the session here in the lobby nobody is here. I said "why? What's the point? She's the doctor, she's got a diploma she's the boss."

But that doctor kept turning and whispering and murmuring to that psychologist guy She had a half smirk. Like how about you share with the whole class?

I said something about her whispering like "talk amongst yourselves motherfucker"

And that doctor had this instigatory tone and said "well, I think I know what happened, why you cancelled your sessions [with the psychologist]."

I was taken back. I was like in my head thinking you do? You read minds? Your like a fictional psychologist/detective that can be like Sherlock Holmes and figure out shit from literally no information?

So I said it. I said "what are you a fucking psychic now? You know what I cancelled? Why don't you enlighten us motherfucker?"

My mom said in her diplomatic wss you do not know. He had a flare up pf his pain. Etc.

But before my mom could go further.

The doctor said "well I think you've made yourself clear, you made your choice" to me.

I had it.

I said "No, you made it clear when you said my mother couldn't come in! I do have a choice, but you made it!"

I continued with every variation of fuck I could create, but I ramped it up. I was cut deep. My whole soul said "How dare you".

If I'm done here, I'm going out saying what's on my mind. Nuclear fucking fission. Just Burn down the whole situation.

I said things like "get the fuck out of here, fucking asshole liar motherfucker"

I can't remember because I was so beyond upset now. That kind of high school whispering about me to her buddy fucking triggered that second meltdown. This was "Fuck-a-shima" (pun).

Hell was walking the earth.

She said that "I'll call the police".

I said "call them motherfucker, stupid bitch. I know half of them." (I don't know any of them, lol - I was so mad I was just random)

She said "I will"

I said "call the fucking Army you're gonna need them motherfucker."

I said "I'm not hanging my fucking head and let anyone walk over me. I did that long enough." "I'm a person and I have rights."

I mean I wasn't asking for her to change the world, I'm asking for my mom to come in to the session and help me.

This kind of doctor had betrayed her Hippocratic Oath. She's never helped anyone. She's never "cured" anyone.

She's a pretentious entitled fucking asshole.

Like my best friend told me "it sounds like she wanted to lord over you".

That's the word or description I couldn't find in my anguish. That's how it felt. It was like I had no say in the direction of my care. Like I was a lab rat and not a human being.

They had the power. There's no winning an argument with such a "doctor". There's no winning in any argument. Mutually assured destruction. She'll keep her cool because she's holding all the cards. She's in power.

So fuck it, I'll salt the fucking earth then.

She has my medical file. She knows my issues, she would still have no compassion? She would still cut me off from my only help of family? To what make me "independent"?

Then on top of that to manipulate me with her whispering, and pompous attitude and flash judgement saying "I think I can figure out why you cancelled"? And all that shit?

What kind of sick fucking doctor are you?

I've never been treated like that by any psych doctors. They've all let my mom come in with me. Then when I'm comfortable my mom doesn't come in anymore. She helps me to remember all my medical stuff and when I'm nervous with new people I forget stuff.

She's my mom. People say all the time 'their mom is their rock' or something. To me that's a platitude.

My parents are my left and right hands. Their my spirit and my flesh. To say they're my rock or support or whatever idioms is a gross understatement.

That's what killed me inside yesterday. They don't get it. And they don't want to. And they don't care. To say it was infuriating would be a lie. I don't have the vocabulary to explain it. I don't have the vocabulary to explain 80% of how I felt yesterday.

You come for help, to try again to keep the hurt at bay, to correct the past that wad inflicted on you. And you take away my freedom and my trust?

You build trust with a patient, not walls.

I mean what if there was a patient there in my place who was actively suicidal in the lobby?

Broken the 6th floor window and ready to jump? You gonna turn your face and whisper to your colleague about them in front of them?

I feel sorry for their next patient.

But I'm not feeling sorry. They deserved every syllable.

My mom apologized to me for finding this doctor. That was another thing that cut me. It's not her fault.

I said "you shouldn't be sorry. I'm not sorry. That bitch won't let you come in with me, fuck her, I'm not sorry. And you shouldn't be."

If I had known that doctor would make my mom feel sorry to me about this whole mess, I probably could have punched her in the mouth.

My mom doesn't need to be sorry. Ever. Especially not for someone else's heartlessness to me/us.

That was that doctor's unprofessional and cold approach. She has no respect for the patient or people.

#anxiety #ptsd #psychiatry #psychiatrist #psychologist #bad doctors #terrible day #bad people #meltdown #asshole doctors #my journal #my post #personal #anger #bullies #bullying #terminal psychotic #help me #help me god #i hate this world #people are the worst

[thesassybooskter]

CONDITIONED by Liz Crowe: Release Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway

AVAILABLE TODAY

Trent Hettinger’s turbulent formative years transformed him into a cynic—and into a man who realized he required something outside himself to control his temper. Something he finds as a Dom—at least for a while. But he allowed himself to trust a woman once and was slapped back into reality with a vengeance and now devotes all his energy into building his real estate empire, raising his teenaged daughter…and avoiding anything resembling authentic attachments.

Melody Rodriguez kept her head down for years—working hard, making her own money, trying to get ahead with every deck stacked against her.  She’s determined to move beyond the ugliness that haunts her without anyone’s help. When a mutual friend sets her up with Trent, she’s determined to have some fun with him and move on.

A man with nothing to left to lose. A woman hiding behind her past. When two lives spent in emotional denial collide, it’s a perfect match—at least on the surface. But neither Trent nor Melody are prepared for the full force of their true feelings, once fate intervenes and blows a cold breeze into their white-hot relationship.

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  Excerpt

(rated R for language)

He grabbed the remote and handed it to me between bites. “Well? I thought I was getting subjected to that horrible game.”

I took the remote, stuck my tongue out at him and clicked on the telly. The match flickered on after a few seconds.

“Ah, right,” he said, sipping his beer, then tucking into the soup. “The pretty boys game.”

“Damn straight,” I said, taking a bite of my own carnitas creation. Pretty damn good if I say so myself. “These men are fine.”

“Guapo?” He raised a dark eyebrow at me, which intensified the heat gathering in areas of my body I’d forgotten I even had.

“No. They’re too prima donna to be truly guapo.”

“Good. I like that word being reserved for me.” He stood. “I need another one of those amazing tacos. And you’re right. I hardly miss the cheese.”

“Of course I’m right.” I winked at him, then felt my face flush so hot I put my hand to my cheek.

We sat in companionable silence, regarding the game and eating for a while. As we leaned back, our feet up on the table, finishing our second beers, the match got more intense. At one point I leapt up and started cursing a stream of Spanish at the official.

“Calm down, already. What happened?” Trent asked, amusement on his face.

“That hijo de puta claimed offsides and called back that goal! Are you blind? Mierda!”

I flopped back onto the couch, this time so close our thighs brushed together when I propped my feet back on the table.

“Offsides, eh?” Trent put his glass to his lips and eyed me over the rim. “I have no idea what that means, at least in this game.”

I shoved our plates aside, grabbed the salt and pepper shakers and the empty beer bottles and attempted to explain it. After ten utterly frustrating minutes, I gave up and threw my napkin at his face after he asked one more stupid question. “Mierda! El burro sabe mas que te!”

He leaned back in mock horror. “Did you just call me a burro? Is that like an ass?”

I dissolved into giggles at the look on his face. “¡Mira qué cabrón! There, I just called you a smartass.”

“Neat,” he said, grinning widely. We stared at each other for a few seconds too long, then both turned to the match.

“For the record, I did say a burro was smarter than you.”

“Ah, of course,” he said, getting up and stretching right in front of me. I swallowed hard and made myself not look at his ass. When he turned around again, his face had gone pensive. “Your poor, beautiful face,” he said, out of the clear blue. “It’s all I can do to look at you and not run out of here and kill that motherfucker.”

I blinked fast, covered by grabbing my beer and totally missed my mouth. A dollop of the brew landed right on my best Real jersey. I stared down at it in horror. Trent chuckled. I glared up at him, daring him to say anything. He tried to stop laughing, but that made it worse. By the time I’d gotten up for a towel and maybe a shot of that tequila, he was practically rolling around on the floor in hysterics.

“Are you quite finished?” I asked, brushing at the stain, my face so hot I could have warmed a whole house in the middle of winter. I’d kept my back to him, the tall counter between us. Mortification was making my vision blur. Or was that tears? Shit, I’d never get this right. I was ruined. Ruined for relationships with real men, anyway. I whirled around to tell him to take his funny bone and get the fuck out of my apartment.

“I think…oh…”

He was there, in front of me, too close for it to be in any way considered casual. His broad, black-cotton-covered chest filled my vision. His scent—a clean, fresh, outdoorsy odor—filled my nose. His voice—deep and musical—filled my soul.

“Melody,” he said, as he took my hands in his and brought them to his lips. Mi Dios, those lips! He kissed each one of my knuckles softly, keeping his eyes on mine. Then he turned my hands over and pressed his lips to first one, then the other of my palms.

“Trent,” I whispered, my mind awash with images and sensations, all of them good for a change.

“Sh,” he whispered, placing my hands on his shoulders, then sliding his hands around to the small of my back. “Sh, no talking.” His smile lit up my entire universe—corny, but true and I’m not ashamed to admit it. “I have wanted to kiss you since I saw you across that diner.”

“When… Oh, right,” I said, my voice breaking at the end like a silly virginal teenager’s.

Surely he won’t want me, when he finds out I’m spoiled goods. Surely he won’t…Surely he has got to be the best kisser in the entire known universe.

    a Rafflecopter giveaway  

About Liz Crowe

Amazon best-selling author, mom of three, Realtor, beer blogger, brewery marketing expert, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville currently living in Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse. Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”). More recently she is garnering even more fans across genres with her latest novels, which are more character-driven fiction, while remaining very much “real life.”

With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.

Don’t ever ask her for anything “like a Budweiser” or risk bodily injury.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

CONDITIONED by Liz Crowe: Release Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway was originally published on The Sassy Bookster

[thecoroutfitters]

Written by R. Ann Parris on The Prepper Journal.

Editors Note: Another guest contribution from Rebecca to The Prepper Journal. As always, if you have information for Preppers that you would like to share and be entered into the Prepper Writing Contest with a chance to win one of three Amazon Gift Cards  with the top prize being a $300 card to purchase your own prepping supplies, then enter today!

With a compact size, particularly in ratio to annual yield per plant, strawberries fit into all lifestyles, from an apartment rail or window, to sprawling acreage. They’re relatively inexpensive as potted starts, they’re even more affordable as bare-root bundles or seeds, and there’s a wide world of suppliers with varieties that are well adapted to many climates. The nice, long harvest periods – compared to fruits that are a one-off with only a few weeks per season – add to their value. Once growing, strawberries can be quickly and easily propagated, which adds to their value both as a homestead crop and as a sale sideline.

It’s not hard to see just why strawberries are such a favorite. Unfortunately, local birds, squirrels, raccoons, and slugs also really love ripe strawberries. Understanding strawberries and their hardest-to-beat admirers will help ensure we continue to harvest the sweet treats of spring and summer even in a disaster.

Wilds & Weeds

Just as strawberries are cultivated around the world, a “false” strawberry has become an international presence. The most immediately noticeable difference between domestic varieties and diminutive wild Fragaria species, and the mock indian strawberry “weeds” Duchesnea indica are the flowers. Domestic and true wild strawberries have white petals most often (some have rose-mauve hues). Those petals are also wider with only slight gaps, whereas mock strawberry petals are yellow, more oblong, and distinctly separated.

There’s also differences in berries. Mock strawberries are covered with protrusions the same texture and color as the rest of its skin. Like domestic strawberries, the tiny wild woodland and alpine varieties are dappled with seed-containing ovaries on the surface of the fruits.

We don’t have to be haters, though. Mock strawberry fruit are dry and bland, but they are edible and contain valuable vitamins. Likewise, the leaves can be used for the same teas and topical poultices as both wild and domestic true strawberries and the other rosaceae brambles. Leaves make excellent additives for rabbits and chickens, too. Their early flowering also makes them important survival plants for pollinators in some areas.

If you have to have a weed, it might as well be a useful one. We have to control them, but they work well as edging around mown spaces, at the base of fences, buildings, and foundation plantings, as groundcover for well-established fruit trees and shrubs, and in chicken graze boxes.

Wild woodland and alpine types of Fragaria require less sun and have fewer pests and specific needs than domestics, but the mock indian strawberries are even more resilient, which makes them suitable for deeper shade and more soils. Unless we’re replacing them with something with higher yields or more uses, there’s no need to kill off the invaders this time around.

Strawberry Needs

In addition to the true wild varieties, there are three primary types of strawberries – day-neutral, everbearing, and Junebearers. All types fruit from buds they developed in a previous season. The separated budding-fruiting seasons contribute to strawberries’ increased productivity in the years after transplant. Trim runners and blossoms the first year so the plants’ energy goes into a stronger plant and root system. After that, root the runners into cups for transplanting or plan beds so staggered replacements can be rooted in-situ.

Strawberries will be happiest in a well-drained, loamy soil with slightly acidic to nearly neutral pH, typically 5.5-6.5 but some types will edge up into a 7.0. They need 6-10 hours of good light. If it’s particularly hot or dry, try to arrange shade directly overhead or blocking the hottest afternoon sun.

Strawberries are highly versatile and with their relatively shallow root systems and compact size, they can be grown in all aquaponics, hydroponics, and aeroponics systems: nutrient mist, NFT, flood-drain, floating raft/DWC (without pumps and aeration, even, although they need some water changes), and sponge or mesh media drip types like the clamshell ZipGrow or PVC DIY versions. They’re also adaptable to good ol’ dirt systems and herbicide-free straw-bale beds.

Strawberries in hanging planters, gutters along rails or laddered up walls, bottle towers, vertical pallets, and the gaps in CMU/cinder block need fertilized and watered more than in-ground and composting-tube tower and bin systems. Elevated containers do have advantages, though. Berries stay cleaner and it can be easier to keep them out of pests’ ranges.

Vertical bottle and bucket/barrel tower, PVC, and hanging pocket systems also allow us to use slug barriers on a small footprint compared to a wider tub, bed or row. That lets us use fewer resources and spend less time protecting our berries, while also keeping the deterrents that would bother pollinators well away from plants and blossoms.

To overwinter, trim plants to 1-2” and cover them with 2-4” of mulch. If we’re using containers, we can lay them flat or stack them between beds, beside and under porches, or on decks and patios and give them an insulation barrier. If we’re in one of the environments where freezes are lighter and shorter, just tenting them in floating row covers may be sufficient. In warmer-yet climates and hothouses, we can keep everbearing and day-neutral varieties cycling year-round.

Mulching

Mulching always serves to retain moisture, prevent weeds, and protect soil from erosion and compaction. There’s also the benefit of preventing fruit “ground rot” and splash-up soil, which keeps harvests cleaner.

Strawberries are susceptible to some of the same diseases as many tree and shrub fruits, so source disease-resistant varieties and avoid planting near or using mulches made from diseased cousins. Straw, pine needles, and wood chips are all excellent options. Using wooden pallets as a planter or garden bed also limits exposure of and to the soil.

Leaves can be iffy. I do it, but only in places where I’m keeping ducks or have weedy islands and undisturbed areas for fireflies and other predatory and parasitic insects and small critters. See, using leaves encourages the one pest I really fight for my berries: slugs.

Slugs will also take advantage of boards, newsprint and cardboard on the surface. They work for me as an exclusion barrier under other mulches or to collect for birds, but on their own and left in place, it’s too much breeding and safety grounds for slugs and with not enough habitat and access for their predators.

Companions & Bad Buds

Strawberries sometimes get a rap as not getting along well with others. Sometimes there’s a root-zone and nutrient competition issue – like sticking greedy sunflowers or voracious chives somewhere and having everything around them stunted. The runners and thick mat that can form can cause problems for some plants, but for the most part strawberries are compatible with both our perennials and some annuals.

Exceptions are brassicas, peppers, and tomatoes, potatoes, eggplant/aubergine, and okra. For the latter, it’s a case of mutual Verticullium susceptibility. Peppers are just picky, period. Cabbage-family plants are the only ones actually impaired by strawberries.

There are plenty of plants that can share with strawberries. Edible wild violets and violas can make for lovely arrangements, helping to camouflage our food production and enticing pollinators. Borage is one of the most common companions and is also edible.

Beans, onions, garlic, peas, and lettuces can all share with strawberries. The legumes will help replace nitrogen used by berries by the end of the season. We can interplant N-fixing flowers like lupin and crimson clover for the same benefits.

Biodiversity is its own wonder for health and pest resistance, but sharing beds with aromatic perennial herbs adds a layer of protection by masking them. Spinach is also touted as repelling strawberry pests. If root nematodes are a problem in the area, a 1:1 ratio of marigold biomass to our desired plants can help.

Slugs

Little is more frustrating than watching healthy, happy plants start blushing handfuls of berries only to find slugs have hollow them out the day before harvest. There are lots of ways to combat them, although some of the things that get passed around either just don’t work, or are highly conditional.

Coffee grounds, chipped pecan shells, and fine-ground and large-flake eggshells are commonly touted. They deter slugs a bit and sometimes work for other crops, but not ripe berries.  This video https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=72&v=N3MeFpXCXj0 might help dispel the notion that sharp edges are total deterrents.

Coffee grounds, high-tanin walnut shells, and eggshells are useful, so there’s no harm, but they’re not a guarantee and don’t work long. Sevin dust and spray work for a while, but rain and even dews decrease the effectiveness after a couple of days, and Sevin and DE represent risks to earthworms, pollinators, and other beneficials.

I find Epsom salt pretty effective until rain or 3 days of heavy dew, too. Since I use it as an amendment, it can do some double duty.

Bait traps using either beer or a flour-yeast-sugar mix are pretty effective at lowering the slug loads. They can be used in pans set level with the ground or mulch surface, or be combined with bottle traps made similar to a tiny crawdad or fish basket trap.

We can also set up boards and inverted pots in garden areas, then flip them in the afternoon when slugs seek shelter and dispose of our berry-raiding nemesis.

Copper rings and ribbon are also effective, although pretty expensive. However, it is a more permanent, all-season solution that should only have to be purchased and applied once.

Slug collars https://www.slughelp.com/slug-collar-to-protect-vulnerable-plants/ are another effective and lasting option, although if our plants hang over the edges, slugs can use the leaves as a bridge to the interior and suck our berries dry. We can use larger plastic bottles or wire hangers and plastic bags to DIY similar.

Pest Exclusions

For berry-raiding birds and squirrels, simple netting can work. I use rolls of permanent plastic or metal 12-24” hex chicken fencing or free salvaged cut hurricane/blizzard fencing around some beds to protect from dogs, rabbits and turtles, and lay white garden mesh across those. In other cases, I use hoops or stakes to suspend the mesh. The tighter mesh is my go-to just because it cross-purposes as insect exclusion and frost protection, and I already have it at hand.

The thinner, looser mesh of deer or bird netting “disappears” at fairly short distances if appearance is a priority. We can also repurpose laundry bags and some types of baskets to create exclusions. Remember to leave access for weeding, fertilizing, pest control, and harvesting, whatever type of exclusion we use.

A set of solar “predator eyes” or garden terriers can help with more destructive and determined pests like raccoons. A pair of good garden ducks, leaving weed islands and some native shrubs to encourage predatory insects, amphibians, and reptiles, and encouraging bats can help, too.

Spring & Summer Sweetness

Wild, mock or hybrid domestic, strawberries are compact and versatile enough to suit the needs of preppers at any stage, urban or rural, apartment to wide acreage. They offer us berries, but also leaves that can be used for teas and our livestock. The ease in propagation means we can start with just a handful and increase our stock with cuttings, divisions, seed, or their natural runners every season.

However, we’re not the only ones who love them. Some of the most common and persistent threats like slugs, rodents and deer affect the rest of our gardens and orchards, so finding deterrents that will be available should we face widespread disaster is a priority for preppers. We don’t want to find out during an emergency that something from a book or internet doesn’t work as well as we thought it would.

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Masaru Emoto & Our Spiritual Enlightenment

Does anyone remember that documentary What the Bleep Do We Know!?? The film that brought quantum mechanics, and human consciousness into mainstream society. A commercial interest in physics exploded in the newly evolved social mediasphere and it took all the Millennials with it. I really enjoyed it, the film, as did everyone my age that went through the “Rabbit Hole,” but there was one aspect of the film that really intrigued me: a brief interjection of commentary discussing the writings and experiments of Masaru Emoto. Now, for those of you whom are unaware Masaru Emoto is the author of The Secret Life of Water, Hidden Messages in Water, The Shape of Love, and other fantastic books. Emoto believed that water was, essentially, a blueprint for our reality. The frequencies and vibrations of our world could be channeled and enhanced by water, and that water is a conduit of energy. The idea is…OK, take The Law of Attraction, for example, and the concept that our thoughts affect our reality, now consider for a moment that there might be a scientific, physical explanation of the idea that our thoughts are capable of affecting water through vibrations, and that because everything is made up of water molecules that water might be a conductor of thought which allows for the manipulation of reality. Are we all on the same page? Because if not I will be explaining it further momentarily. ​Masaru Emoto is most commonly known for doing vibration experiments with ice crystals. When you freeze, and then unfreeze water there are very, very brief moments before thawing when the water creates crystalloid shapes. Masaru Emoto thought to photograph these crystals, and he applied the idea that different non-physical variables might affect the crystals, for example: different types of music playing, speaking with both negative and positive intention and tone, writings, etc., basically what I’m talking about the is epitome of New Age bullshit, you know, how our feely feelings affect our surroundings, but when perceived from a scientific perspective. I suppose that another way of putting it is to say that I have reached the point in this blog where if the GOP cannot kill it, or eat it, and it cannot be explained metaphorically somewhere between Jonah and the Whale and Noah’s Ark then it’s quite possible that I have become a dangerous liability to the illusive American standard. Masaru Emoto discovered that when being expressed positive thoughts or intentions in the form of positive verbal, auditory, and written stimuli it would affect the vibrations and frequencies traveling between ‘the source’ and the water crystals, and they would form stunningly beautiful crystalloid shapes, and when expressed negatively the water crystals would appear misshapen and deformed. As a result Emoto discovered that our positive thoughts affected water in a very real way through measurable vibrations and frequencies that travel through all things, and he therefore began to express urgently how important positive thoughts are, and when you consider that the human body is made up of more than 70% water you might rethink the way that you live your life. See, for me, these concepts provide so much more insight, and a more logical framework for the genesis of our existence, and the development of our reality. And to be completely honest I do not understand how anyone could possibly disagree with it. The physics of quantum mechanics, the conception of spiritual evolution, and at the concentration of human connection can be expressed collectively by the discoveries of Masaru Emoto, and, as far as I’m concerned, where the three of these concepts meet we find a pinnacle understanding of our humanism. I read Emoto’s books and found so many profound connections between the most difficult political, spiritual, and relationship questions that have challenged a belief that I had always felt, and yet I could never quite explain, and not just between one idea and another, but Masaru’s writings offered insight to various connections between ideas that I never even considered might connect. Religion is deeply personal for the majority of the people on the planet, in one way or another, even atheism is responsible for strong stigmas regarding religious, or spiritual ideas for some of us. As far as my own beliefs I cannot deny that my upbringing was a case study of spiritual ADD: my parents were both raised with strict religious contexts: my father’s family was devout in Southern Baptist, which, from the 1950’s through the 70’s, you know, “the severity of American religious idealism,” especially among Southern Baptists, was pretty scary. My mom went to an all-girl Catholic school for twelve years. And as a result of their childhoods my father, being an intellectual, but not much of a humanist, now considers himself agnostic, while my mother spent years looking for spiritual enlightenment, and stumbled upon a religion called Eckankar, which is a young western philosophy similar to Hinduism that has adopted also a variety of other eastern philosophies, and I have attended many of the religions Sunday services. My mother gave me the option as a child to either attend service or to spend the time studying different religions—more often than not I took her up on the study. Throughout my years of practice it became quite clear to me that the two most prominent problems within our religious purview also happen to be the same two reasons why many religions still exist today, and exactly as they did centuries ago: stigmas and money. Modern religious institutions have created stigmas against their religious counterparts, which has been both sustainable, and dangerous. For example, according to the Qur’an anyone who follows the teachings of a religious text is not, technically, what some Muslims might consider, an ‘infidel’ and, for those of you whom are unaware, religious texts include the Torah and the Bible, as well as others, it would appear that a sect of Islamic 'believers' simply disregarded that creed, but no more so, and inasmuch the way that Christians tend to ignore much of their own doctrine—many people form a belief on baseless hearsay. Masaru Emoto and his writings—his books—have helped me develop many ideas, within our belief systems, that others are taught not to accept, or that they have been disallowed the means to see through various stigmas and dogma. It would seem that the unusual aspects of my upbringing have made it easier for me to distance myself from the manipulation of emotional reactions when necessary. For example: I was reading a copy of Indigo Sun Magazine many years ago, I picked it up while working at Borders Books, Music, and Café, and came across an article in which the author describes sitting with a group of people discussing the different ideals and perceptions that shadow God, and in the middle of the discussion someone said, “Oh! I get it, so God is like water and we are like fish.” The author goes on to describe how no one among them seemed to understand how profound a realization that was. It simply went over their heads, or the idea did not fit into the systems that they have created for themselves because of their religions. But, think about it for a moment, "God is like Water and We are like Fish." As a foundation, the principles itself, when developing ideas from that particular foundation, the places you are capable of reaching, I mean, it’s astounding where that one idea can take you. And, of course there are obvious similarities between this sudden burst of spiritual clarity and what Masaru Emoto was writing, but there is a deeply-rooted hidden concept within this spiritual understanding that exists as well, and it’s an idea worth expanding upon, and that I urge you to develop on your own. I have gone on to develop my own understandings surrounding spiritual enlightenment over the years. But whenever I’m asked about my own ideas I share one or both of the following: “God is not the Creator but instead the Act of Creation,” and, again: “God is like Water, and We are like Fish,” because I do recognize how deeply profound they are, and how uniquely they can be interpreted, they also fit comfortably within the dogma of any belief system that YOU might presently accept, because thinking of your belief system in ways that you have not yet considered can be paramount to perceiving the world around you in a way that might be less threatening. For years, even since developing, what I thought, would be an open-minded all-inclusive system of ideals I realized that I still had my own stigmas, of which included the belief that my ‘pillars’ listed in the paragraph above were antithetical to those of Christian or Muslim doctrine, until I was sitting in a café in Salt Lake City one evening talking about religion with a friend of mine. We stayed there until 4 in the morning discussing different ideas and belief systems. My friend was raised Mormon and when I mentioned that “God was like Water and that We are like Fish,” and, then went on to suggest that “I don’t believe God to exist as a personified being, but rather as a collective,” he agreed with me completely. I asked him, “Well, I thought you were a Christian?” to which he responded, “I am.” “So, then how can you believe God to exist as anything other than as a personified being?” his response was that- “That idea is not mutually exclusive to Christian Doctrine.” And, aside from accepting Jesus as the Son of God, he was absolutely right. We have a very basic, and limited understanding of our own spirituality, because we have collectively refused to understand it, as a result most of us would immediately reject the idea that God could have a ‘Son’ while not actually existing in the image of man. Allow yourself to imagine, for a moment, the idea that we may not be created in the physical image of God, but rather the emotional image; what would that look like? And how would that connect with, not only, other belief systems, but other aspects of our humanity? Science, Politics, Relationships, etc. I thought about Masaru Emoto and the differences that we establish between creating a narrative and developing a belief, and recognized that my stigmas regardless of their foundation were the inherent problem. At its root we do not understand religion and spirituality beyond a narrative, a collection of stories that we’ve been told in order to perceive certain ideals or feelings in a way that we are able to make sense of. Unfortunately, when applied, those stories don’t exactly mesh with other narratives that we tell ourselves as humans. Unless we strip that narrative to the fundamental connections, but not just between us and our belief systems, but the belief systems of others, and of our scientific and political communities. Once we allow ourselves not to force our connections, beliefs systems, and stigmas but to recognize-, to be conscious of how the connections exist around us, just as Masaru Emoto has done with the simplicity of the harmony between nature and our humanity, we’re capable of recognizing the simplicity of our own connections and we’re left with the freedom of our perceptions, which are influenced by both our physical understanding of our world, and our emotional. Masaru Emoto helped me to bridge the gaps that, before reading his books, seemed much too far to connect.

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