#i'm not talking about dessert because i know dessert is like FORBIDDEN to me

[lire-casander]

when you find an amazing restaurant and there's literally not a single main you can order

#i hate being lactose intolerant #and eating as much as i do #here's a couple of starters i could order #and then NOTHING #everything has some kind of dairy in them #i'm not talking about dessert because i know dessert is like FORBIDDEN to me #i'm talking about veggies that could potentially have lactose in them #why? i don't know #why would grilled veggies have lactose? ask the restaurant

[virtualvault]

What Good Girls Get

Pairing: Switch! Marc Spector x Sub!reader x Dom!Layla El-Faouly

Summary: While Layla is away, Marc wants to play. Being the good girl you are, you reject his advances and she rewards you while Marc is left to face the consequences.

Warnings: Dom/ Sub dynamics, polyamory, punishment, brat!marc, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation, rough sex, sex toys, strap-ons, squirting, oral(f) receiving, oral(m) receiving, pet names, fingering, begging, spitting, slapping, aftercare, cuddles(Let me know if I missed anything:))

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: This is only my second fic so I'm still working on getting better at exposition and stuff but I'm actually really proud of the smut and dialogue in this one. As always, feedback is welcome and encouraged. Enjoy!!

"We shouldn't. Layla told us we can't fool around while she's gone." you whine as you lay on the bed, Marc hovering above you. His face is buried in your neck while he plants sloppy kisses across your skin. You do your best to stand your ground but make no move to try and get him off you.

"Marc, I'm serious. Did you see the look in her eyes? She really meant it. I don't know about you, but I don't want to get on her bad side. We just got off punishment for the kitchen incident." It was quite a punishment too, but to be honest you deserved it. A few days ago, Layla had gone out to get dinner while Marc graciously offered to stay behind and help you finish preparing the dessert you were making for your friend's birthday. His help soon turned into a distraction as he started grabbing at you and pulling you against him, despite your determination to focus on the task at hand.

It started with Marc innocently feeding you a few of the strawberries you were cutting up and by the time Layla returned he had you on your knees, his dick covered in whipped cream, and you eagerly cleaning it off with your tongue. She had forbidden you two to touch yourselves or one another for the rest of the week as punishment and didn't let either of you out of her sight. She knew that would lead to more trouble.

That's why when she had been called to attend an event that would require her to stay across town overnight, she was hesitant. If it were just you, she wouldn't have worried. You're always on your best behavior. Unless Marc is there. He's always the instigator. You can count on one hand all the times you've been punished for something that didn't involve Marc. You craved Layla's approval, needed her to be proud of you. Marc made that incredibly difficult, though. Despite your better judgement, you almost always gave in. He had this hold over you that made him impossible to resist. Especially when Layla isn't there and you miss her.

Marc misses her desperately when she's gone as well, and that's part of the reason he acts out. It also doesn’t help that he is a brat through and through. For him, all the rules fly out the window the moment she steps out the door. He loves to rile her up. Lately he's been pushing his luck and punishments have been getting increasingly severe. Instead of turning soft at the end like Layla has a habit of doing, especially when it comes to you, she's started implementing 'no touching rules', ruined orgasms, edging with no release, withholding pleasure, etc. He also just can't help himself when he gets you all alone. It's like a switch flips in his brain and he just wants to pounce on you. Make you misbehave like he does. He knows you're Layla's good girl and he loves to see you turn into a dirty little slut for him.

"C'mon, it's not like she just ran out to the store, she won't be home until tomorrow. There's no way she'll find out." He continues to kiss down your neck and palms at your chest, making you arch your back.

"Yes, she will. I don't know how she does it, but she can always tell."

"That's because you can't lie to save your life, baby. You know, you really need to work on your poker face." he jests, and you shoot him a glare. But you can't help the small smile that forms on your face because you know he's right. If you're ever hiding something, you distance yourself from Layla, unable to even look her in the eyes. When she finally makes you, whatever you're hiding comes spilling out of you, completely out of your control. And if it had something to do with Marc, which is usually the case, he gets in trouble as well. It's detrimental to you both.

" You really don't want to?" Marc asks. He gives you puppy dog eyes, pulling out all the stops to try and get you to give in.

"Of course, I do." You play with the hem of his shirt, trying to ignore the way you feel his bulge against your thigh.

"I just really don't want to disobey her. We don't have to wait too long; she'll be back tomorrow. And who knows, maybe she'll even reward us for being good. It's been a while." You offer, trying to convince not only him but yourself to resist the temptation.

"It's been a while for me. She rewards you all the time. It's not fair." He pouts and pinches your sides, making you giggle.

"That's because you actually have to behave for that to happen, dummy. You just have to learn to follow the rules. And tonight is the perfect opportunity to try it out." you stroke his hair reassuringly. It would do him some good to practice some restraint.

"I'll try." he says, with absolutely zero sincerity in his voice.

"How about we go watch a movie instead? She never said we couldn't cuddle." He nods, smiling at you innocently enough to convince you he has given up. You cup his face and pull it to yours, and you plant a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. He stands, helps you up, and you both head to the living room.

Marc manages to keep his hands to himself through most of the film. He has you held against him, fitting snuggly in his side. You rest your head on his shoulder, enjoying the safe and warm feeling he provides. You even start to doze off, but awaken when Marc shifts, telling you he's heading to the bathroom. In his absence, you lay your head down on the cushion. Rolling over on your stomach, you feel yourself succumb to the drowsiness again. A few minutes later, you are startled awake when you feel the couch dip, and a weight settle on your backside. You curiously turn your head to find Marc straddled across your thighs. You try to wriggle away, but he puts his full weight on your back and effectively stops you. He starts kissing and licking down the back of your neck.

“Marc, you were doing so well. Let’s just go to bed.” you plead.

“I'd love to take you to bed.” he responds, then starts softly nipping at your skin.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” You feel him grin against you and it sends tingles across your skin.

“C'mon it’s not like I'm going to tell. And you’ll have until tomorrow evening to get yourself together enough to face Layla. You can keep one little secret, can’t you?” You are already putty in his hands and let wanton moans fall from your lips at the warmth of his mouth on your skin and his hands grabbing at your sides.

“I want to so bad. I just… I wanna be a good girl.” you whine.

"Well, it's nice to know one of you respects me.” Layla chimes in, and you both jump, startled by her surprise entrance. Neither of you had heard her come in. You freeze, and so does the man above you. A feeling of dread falls over you but is overtaken by a feeling of delight when your eyes land on your beautiful girlfriend. She’s still wearing the outfit she wore to the event, and she looks breathtaking.

"I managed to find a way to come home early to the loves of my life and this is what I find. Did I not make myself clear before I left?" She scolds, but there is a slight playfulness to her tone.

Marc, still refusing to look at her, lifts himself into a sitting position. You glance back at him and see the look of contemplation on his face. He could play this one of two ways. He could apologize profusely and get on his hands and knees begging for forgiveness, or he could stand his ground and see how far he can push his luck. Being the brat he is, he obviously chooses the latter. Not even bothering to answer her, he flips you over and Layla rounds the coffee table to stand in front of you both. He moves his eyes to hers as he starts grabbing at you and sliding your shirt up, exposing your breasts. Layla’s silence is deadly, yet the look on her face is eerily calm.

He grabs your bare chest and starts tweaking your nipples, and you whimper at the sensation. You don’t want to upset her, but it just feels so good. You rub your thighs together trying to relieve some of the pressure building in your core.

Neither of your partners notice as both sets of eyes are locked in a stare, waiting to see what the other will do next. The mischievous grin on Marc's face makes you nervous. You know he’s playing with fire and isn’t considering the consequences. But as always, his behavior manages to stoke the flames in the pit of your stomach. You don’t know what it is, the thought of testing Layla's patience yourself never crosses your mind. But seeing her reaction when Marc does it makes you want him to keep going, even though you know he’ll pay for it later.

You grab Marc’s wrists, not even sure if it’s to stop him or urge him on and you shoot Layla a pleading look, silently begging her to do something. Marc finally looks away as he brings his mouth down to one of your breasts. He latches onto your nipple and rolls it between his teeth. You let out a squeal and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Do you want him to stop?” You don’t even hear what Layla says as Marc's other hand travels down your stomach and lands on your clothed mound.

“Look at me, angel. I asked you a question. Do you want Marc to stop?” Trying to steady your voice as his fingers slip into your underwear, dragging up and down your wet folds, you whimper, “It feels good but…but I don’t want to disobey you.” She gives you a soft smile and wears a proud look on her face, causing a warmth to bloom in your chest. She walks towards you and bends down so her face is level with yours.

As she starts petting your hair she coos, “Of course you don’t. Because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” you preen at her words. No matter how good Marc’s touch makes you feel, nothing compares to Layla's praise. With a newfound strength and determination to prove her right, you push Marc’s hand out of your pants and shove his face away. He watches you cover your chest, making it impossible for him to continue, and he huffs.

He sits up and contemplates his next move. He was really banking on you giving in and being able to test your girlfriend's patience together. Even when he's facing punishment himself, he loves seeing you endure one too. Seeing Layla's little angel get in trouble turns him on in a way he can’t describe. But it looks like you had more willpower than he thought, and he’ll be taking this one on his own.

As a last-ditch effort, he blurts out “She started it.” You gasp, knowing that’s a bold-faced lie.

He continues, “She was on me the moment you walked out the door. But you know how irresistible she is when she begs, I couldn’t help it. I’m just doing what you would’ve done.” He leers back at her, trying to stand firm. Layla sighs, not believing him for a second. She's getting frustrated. As much as she hates it when you two break the rules, she hates when you lie about it even more. She usually lets you off easier if you come forward and tell her what really happened. You always do but Marc has the habit of dodging the truth until she drags it out of him. It’s a nasty habit that she’s determined to break, and now is the perfect opportunity.

“He’s lying! He was trying to fuck me all night! I told him you’d be mad, but he wouldn’t listen.” You match the glare he shoots you, and he grabs your thigh firmly in warning, not appreciating the outburst. But you weren’t going to roll over on this one. You had worked really hard to finally find the strength to not give in for once and you’d be damned if you went down for this with him. You want your reward for being a good girl and you aren’t going to let him ruin that.

“You believe me don’t you, Lay?” You look up at her through your lashes and give her the sweetest look you can muster up. The nickname brings a smile to her face, and she replies, “Of course I do, baby.”

“But” Marc starts, and Layla raises her brow at him, daring him to keep testing her patience. He backs down immediately, hanging his head in defeat.

“Go lay on the bed sweetheart.” She instructs and leans down, connecting her mouth with yours. Marc, enjoying the show, subconsciously starts stroking your thigh but she is quick to swat his hand away. “You, go stand at the foot of the bed. And keep your hands to yourself.” she commands, and he follows you into the bedroom, dragging his feet.

He stands in front of you now, arms crossed in annoyance, and you smirk at him. “Thanks a lot.” he sneers.

“Hey, I said to be patient and we’d get rewarded. Maybe this will teach you a lesson.” you say smugly, and he rolls his eyes.

Layla enters, grabbing the chair from the desk and placing it in front of the bed. She makes Marc strip. She then ties up his hands and orders him to sit but leaves him unrestrained otherwise. She removes her jacket and proceeds to strip you, softly caressing your sides as she does, and your skin heats up under her touch. Shifting you, she lays you at the end of the bed, parallel to the headboard, and gives Marc a full view of her body and yours. Normally he'd be thankful but under these circumstances it's torturous.

She makes her way down your body, nipping and sucking at your skin. She's always thorough, taking the time to admire every inch of you. After leaving your stomach and thighs covered in love bites, and running her tongue over your marked skin, she buries her head between your thighs. She's gentle and diligent but she doesn't rush. Doesn't eat you out in a frenzy like Marc tends to do. She knows your body better than you do and knows just what to do to have you fall apart on her tongue.

She has to hold your waist down as you writhe on the bed. Your sultry moans and desperate cries have Marc involuntarily bucking his hips into the air, begging for relief. Before you know it, she has you cumming hard and you grind your hips against her mouth as she sucks on your clit, helping you ride the waves of pleasure. Giving you a second to catch your breath, she then positions you on the edge of the bed, exposing you to Marc, and takes her place behind you. She wraps her legs around yours and uses them to spread your thighs. Her movements begin slow, like before, and she starts by gently circle your clit with her fingers. The torturous speed has you crying out for more. Wanting to give you whatever your heart desires, she dips her fingers into you. They slip in easily, and each delicious drag of her digits against your walls has you bucking your hips against her hand.

Your arousal starts to form a ring around her fingers and drips onto the floor. The sight has Marc falling to his knees in front of you, face nearing your center. Layla gives him a warning look, but she can feel you getting close, so she doesn’t want to stop. Then she gets an idea. She pushes faster against that sweet spot inside you and matches that rhythm as she starts rubbing your swollen bud. Mesmerized by the sight, Marc leans his head against your thigh.

“No touching.” Layla commands and he nods. He doesn’t move any closer, practicing more restraint than he ever has in his life. She starts nipping at that spot under your ear and it has you squirming. You feel that familiar pressure building that you didn’t feel with your previous climax and smile, realizing what’s about to happen, and your whole body tenses. “I'm cumming” is all you can say before you start spasming and you explode all over his face. Marc flinches slightly at the unexpected splash of your arousal. It just keeps streaming out of you and he quickly opens his mouth wide, groaning as your sweet nectar coats his tongue. He gives Layla a pleading look, and she knows what he wants.

“You can clean off her thighs.” she says, loving the hungry look on his face. He laps at your drenched thighs and savors the taste that he's been dying for all night. You let out a satisfied purr and you eyes fall closed, feeling soothed by the warmth of his tongue. When he's finished, he takes a moment and just stares at your sex. Before he can stop himself, he lurches forward to indulge in your arousal from the source. Before he can reach you, though, Layla yanks his head back by his hair, clicking her tongue at him.

“Still don’t want to listen, huh?” She moves from behind you and drags him back to the chair. You already miss her warmth, but your excitement grows as she goes to open the trunk you keep on the corner of the room and pulls out some rope and a harness with the familiar pink silicone attached to the base. Your heart starts beating faster and you bite your lip, thrumming with excitement at what’s coming next. She inches the chair closer to the bed, and Marc is now just inches away. She ties him to the chair now, ignoring his grumbling. With her guidance, you are now on your hands and knees, head halfway off the end of the bed, now face to face with Marc. As Layla puts on the strap-on, you can’t help but smile at the pout on his face. You've never seen him this frustrated before and you would feel bad for him if it didn't turn you on so much.

Your girlfriend situates herself behind you, kissing up your spine, and you pull her up so her mouth meets yours and you moan at the saccharine taste of her. When she breaks the connection, her mouth finds your ear and she whispers, “You’re doing so good for me. My obedient girl.” The comment makes your heart swell. You hum, looking her in the eyes, and whisper “I love you.” She nuzzles her face against yours she affectionately replies, “I love you too, angel."

She sits back onto her haunches and rubs the silicone up and down your folds, each flick against your clit making your breath hitch. As she slides the length in to the hilt, you cry out and she sets a maddeningly slow pace. You're about to beg for more, but she already knows what you want. She slowly pulls out to the tip and then slams back into you, and begins giving you those hard, deep thrusts you crave.

After a while, your arms give out underneath you and you fall onto your chest. The arch of your back gives her a delicious view of your ass and she gives it a quick slap. You whine for more and she continues, landing multiple hits to both your cheeks and thighs and you squeal in delight. When she's done, she grabs firmly onto your hip with one hand and the other comes up to settle on the back of your neck and she pulls you back to meet her thrusts.

With your face now just inches away from Marc, you stick your tongue out, unable to resist the temptation to taunt him. It's a pretty juvenile thing to do, you admit, and can’t help the giggle you let out at the sight of the frustration bubbling up inside him, the aggravation showing clear as day on his face. Before you can pull your tongue back in your mouth, he leans forward and spits fast and hard, some landing in your open mouth, and some on your cheek. You gasp, but your surprise quickly morphs into a pathetic whine, loving the taste of him. You drag your tongue over your lips and the surrounding area, trying to get to the spatter that missed your mouth. A satisfied smirk appears on his face, and he mutters, "filthy fucking slut." You whine at his words, and it has you clenching down onto the silicone filling your cunt.

Layla, however, was not amused. She shoves your face down onto the mattress and leans over you to deliver a harsh slap to Marc's face. He moans at the contact, relieved to finally get some sort of stimulation. Before the sting can even settle over his skin, she delivers another. Then, she removes her weight from you and pulls your head up once more.

“That wasn’t very nice, was it baby?” You don’t respond, honestly wishing he'd do it again.

“Oh, you liked it didn’t you, naughty little thing.” You moan at her teasing and look Marc in the eyes, whining, "I want something in my mouth.”

He jolts forward, wanting to break free and give you what you want. An anticipative look crosses his face, and he hopes Layla will make him part of your reward.

“Oh, I'm sorry baby. Here you go.” Determined to keep Marc out of this, Layla hooks her fingers into your mouth. She chuckles at Marc's reaction as she sees his shoulders slump, clearly disappointed. You immediately wrap your lips around her digits and he zeros in on your movements, imagining it was him in your mouth instead.

Her thrusts become more brutal, each one knocking the thoughts right out of your head. You feel yourself mentally slipping, unable to form even one coherent sentence. All you can do is babble nonsense, hoping she understands how close you are to your release. Layla drags your head up by your hair and you face Marc again, mouth open and drooling down into the sheets. He's seen that look before and he knows you're right on the edge. He looks you right in the eyes and whispers, " Do it, baby. Cum." He's not even sure you heard him, but your eyes immediately roll to the back of your head, and you start shaking. Layla holds you against her, knowing you love the closeness and skin to skin contact when you fall apart. All you can feel is white hot pleasure and you're crying out, mouth open in a silent scream as you gasp for breath. You don't even have time to come down from your climax before Layla starts pounding into you again, hard and fast. She holds you down, making you cum again and again.

When she can tell you've had enough, she stops her movements but stays planted inside you to the hilt, knowing you don’t want to feel empty just yet. She runs her hands all over you, trying to bring you back to her and help steady your breathing. You can't tell how much time has passed but when you're finally conscious of your surroundings again, the first thing you see is Marc's pitiful form in front of you. You want to help him. His angry red tip looks painful, and you actually start to feel bad for him. You somehow muster up the strength to reach an arm out to him and he looks at you lovingly. You were just fucked into oblivion, but you still want to make sure he feels good. It makes him smile and he desperately wants to pull you into his arms.

“Can I touch him, please?” You look over your shoulder and give Layla your best puppy dog eyes, hoping she'll cave like she always does when you look at her like that. She arches her brow at you and asks, “Am I not enough, sweetheart?”

“No! You are!” you reply frantically, immediately regretting your words. You continue, “Just look at him. So pathetic. I think he's learned his lesson.” He's been waiting so long and he’s so frustrated he can feel tears starting to form in his eyes. “Please. I'm so sorry. I'll behave. I promise." he begs.

She sighs, feeling conflicted. She knows she has pushed him hard but he did deserve it. She feels herself turning soft at that needy look in his eyes and concedes. She knows what he really wants. He wants one of you to ride him until he sees stars. This is still a punishment, however, so she decides to give him another form of relief.

Leaning down and kissing the crown on your head, she checks in, making sure you're not too overworked. She really gave it to you hard and wants to make sure you don't overdo it. "Are you sure? You look a little worn out." You're touched by her concern but nod eagerly.

"Go ahead baby. He can have your mouth." The sigh of relief that leaves Marc makes you want to laugh. You turn back to him, and your outstretched hand moves to caress his face. He leans into your touch, and kisses at the palm of your hand. You slide it down off his face and Layla helps you to your knees. He makes the most pitiful noise when you take him into your mouth, finally feeling the relief he's waited hours for. You have him cumming in just a few minutes and he thanks both of you profusely.

You're all exhausted, but that doesn't stop them from loving on you. Layla goes to draw a bath while Marc picks you up off the floor, placing soft kisses all over your face. He carries you to the bathroom, where Layla begins to do the same as Marc places you in the tub. The feeling of their love wraps you like a warm blanket, relaxing your mind as the bath water relaxes your tired muscles. You're half asleep when you all finally pile into bed, cuddling up close to one another. Layla lays you in the middle of them the middle and they wrap their arms around you and each other. Not having the energy tonight, you and Marc will be sure to give her a proper 'welcome home' in the morning.

#moon knight #moon knight smut #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector smut #marc spector x layla el faouly #marc spector x reader x layla el faouly #steven grant #jake lockley

[minnieves]

summary: fuck buddy!beomgyu who loves marking you up. knowing that even if it's not him who you're fucking, the other person could never own you the way the have.

"beomie please, m'too much." you moaned. beomgyu has been edging you for the past 45 minutes, and your mind is not holding on well. you feel sensitive and slightly disoriented. there's no alcohol in your system, but you feel drunk.

"i should stop then?" he teased you. looking at the way your body writhe under his touch. your body is perched side-ways, one of your leg hoisted in the air by his hand. he slowly raised his head from eating you out.

"no, no. god. please no." you muttered to him. sounding faint and tired from being edged and cumming twice in a row, then being edged again. "beom, inside me please."

"put this on me," beomgyu asked you. handing you a foiled wrapper before letting your leg go. you sat down, hand shaking from both the exhaustion and the anticipation of having him inside you.

"with your mouth," he followed. you meet his eyes. his expression remains passive, but the glint in his eyes tells you that he too feels excited.

not breaking the eye contact, you put the condom in your mouth like a pacifier. your eyes fell on his leaking tip. mind fogging at how much you want this inside you. you hold his dick in your hand. your mouth hovering over his tip. you took a deep breathe before sinking your mouth on it.

beomgyu was hypnotised with how lewd you look like when you pulled off. a string of saliva donnecting you to his dick before snapping. your lips shiny because of it. beomgyu can't help himself from kissing you. your mouth to him is like a forbidden dessert he must not enjoy, but he does. so much.

"how do you want me?" you asked him. legs shaking a little. you're starting to feel numb and dumb. he's not even doing his extremes but you feel like you're on his mercy.

"on your back," he whispered on your lips. slightly pushing you so that you'd fall on your back. "color?"

"green," you whispered. he eased himself in, feeling how wet you are round him. he'd want to feel you bare around him. but he's not willing to make you feel how good he is. "deeper, please."

"that guy can't reach this?" he teased you. whispering those words in your ear. what is he talking about? you asked yourself.

you feel him go deeper, reaching places you want him to. you felt your back lift the bed, since one of his hand is pulling it towards him. you could feel his lips on your body. nipping. sucking. tasting. but you can't seem to care.

beomgyu feels overwhelmingly good. he's so soft now, that it makes you ache. you feel like the your heart beat rushing is not because of sex. the lines between pleasure and something else is no longer visible to the both of you.

"that's it y/n, scream my name." he told you. so you did. your throat hurting from giving him oral and moaning his name.

"so pretty," he muttered. "so fuckable."

he pushed his body higher. holding both your knees to spread you open. beomgyu smirked to himself, seeing the marks that littered on your skin. his eyes trailing downward to where you met.

"i'm gonna cum beomgyu!" you told him. taking a deep breathe before convulsing.

beomgyu crashed his body to yours when he came. pampering kisses on your neck, shoulders, and going up to your cheeks.

"tell me how your fuck toys would react when they see these," he said pointing to the marks he left on you. but you can't bring yourself to look at whatever he's pointing. "so, so pretty."

#txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #beomgyu smut #txt scenarios #txt imagines

[bellamer]

How to Be Husband and Wife:

(It took me 8 months to write this bullshit)

-

Despite being able to see seconds into the future, this was not how Katakuri expect his wedding night to go.

It wasn't like he expected it to go completely well, after all, it was an arranged marriage, but he didn't expect his wife to put on a happy facade through the entire wedding and wedding party, only to run away from him and into the bathroom and sob her eyes out immediately once she stepped foot into her new home. She hadn't even taken off her wedding dress yet.

His mother thought it was about time to marry him off to strengthen her relationship with the Kerási Kingdom. The Kerási Kingdom was a Kingdom that grew beautiful and bountiful cherry trees that produced the sweetest and tastiest cherries anyone could imagine, the Kingdom making quite the profit from them.

King Kirsche was eager to marry off his eldest daughter, Princess Cereza. However, Princess Cereza screamed and fainted when she saw Katakuri and refused to even be near him, so King Kirsche cut a deal with Big Mom, saying that he would provide her with thousands of pounds of delicious cherry desserts monthly, if Katakuri would marry his youngest daughter, Princess Cherrisue, which Big Mom agreed to.

Cherrisue didn't have much of a reaction when she met Katakuri. She was quiet but she never indicated that he scared her or made her uncomfortable in any way, though they didn't spend much time together outside of meetings between his mother and her father, but Cherrisue tried to engage in conversation with him.

She was really sweet to him each time they met, but he kept her at a distance, not wanting to accidentally scare her. Their wedding day went smoothly, even though he didn't kiss her, too afraid to remove his scarf.

So why now, was she breaking down ? Did she not want to be married to him him ? Did it just now sink in that she was to spend the rest of her life with someone like him ? He didn't know the problem so he didn't know how to comfort her and he had no one to go to for advice. The only siblings who could give him a tiny fraction of advice defected from the family and contact with them was forbidden. This was something he was going to have to figure out himself.

He approached the bathroom door and hesitantly but gently knocked on it.

"Cherri....Cherrisue ?" He asked, trying to be gentle with his voice. "You've been in there for a while and I'm worried for you... will you talk to me so I can fix it ?"

He heard her sniffle and shuffle.

"Why should I ?" She asked, her voice watery.

"Because I'm your husband." Katakuri answered.

"Don't pretend like that means anything to you !" Cherrisue snapped, which caught Katakuri off guard. "I'm not going to play pretend with you when you don't even want me !"

Katakuri didn't know what to say, so he continued to let Cherrisue rant.

"You probably wanted Cereza because she's prettier than me and more graceful and ladylike, but you got stuck with the less pretty one instead !" Cherrisue wailed. "You didn't even want to kiss me and you've been so cold towards me, you're mad you got stuck with me instead of Princess Perfect !"

"Cherrisue...." Katakuri started. He had to think of what to say. "I wouldn't want to be with Cereza because she wouldn't want to be with me...you saw her reaction when she first laid eyes on me, and she didn't even get to know me, I couldn't be with a person like that." He leaned his head against the bathroom door. "It's not that I don't want you or that I'm intentionally being cold towards you, I just didn't want to scare you and me not kissing you was for the same reason."

Cherrisue didn't answer.

"I was afraid that if I showed you my true self, it would change the way you treated me, since that's what happens when most people see...I didn't want to get close to you, then get hurt if you rejected me because of my appearance..." Katakuri said. "But...I want this marriage to work and I'm willing to trust you and let you get to know me and vice versa, but we'll take it slow."

Katakuri heard a sniffle and then heard Cherrisue unlock the door. He stepped away from the door as Cherrisue opened it, wiping her wet eyes. Katakuri squatted down to look his wife in the eyes, with her only being 5'5 while he was 16 feet tall.

"You promise ?" Cherrisue asked with a sniffle. Katakuri nodded.

"I promise that as your husband, I will put in the hard effort to make sure that our marriage will work and that I will no longer push you away and I will take the time to talk to you and get to know you, something I regret not doing sooner." Katakuri promised.

Cherrisue nodded, wiping away the rest of her tears and actually smiled a genuine smile towards Katakuri. Katakuri's cheeks dusted pink when he saw the smile. Thankfully his blush was hidden behind his scarf.

"I'll promise, as your wife, that I'll do the same." She said warmly, making Katakuri's heart flutter.

-

On the first official day of them being married, Katakuri woke up to a delicious and familiar smell. Doughnuts.

He looked to his side to see that Cherrisue was gone. They had slept in the same bed that night, although Katakuri tried to give her some space, she insisted that they sleep in the same bed together. He had went to bed with his scarf on that night and had barely gotten a wink of sleep.

He got out of bed and headed towards the smell that was coming from the kitchen. When he stepped inside, he noticed that his usual chefs weren't there, instead, Cherrisue was, humming softly, her back towards him.

Katakuri cleared his throat to get her attention, so that she wouldn't be too startled. She turned her head to look behind her and smiled.

"Good morning !" She said cheerfully. "I let your chefs have the morning off so that I could make your breakfast, you're just in time too, I just finished icing them !"

"Hm ?" Katakuri asked. "Icing what ?"

"The breakfast specialty of the Kerási Kingdom, of course !" She said, turning around to reveal what was on her tray. "Cherry jam filled doughnuts with vanilla bean icing and cherry infused tea !"

Katakuri's mouth immediately started watering from behind his scarf as he saw the huge doughnuts and tea on the tray. He reached out to take one but stopped himself when he realized that in order to eat one, he'd have to remove his scarf.

"Don't be shy, I made these just for you, doughnuts are one of the best snacks for breakfast or any time really !" She said, watching Katakuri's hesitation. "Unless...." her face fell. "Unless you don't like doughnuts... I'm sorry, I should've asked first, I'll put them away..."

"No !" He objected quite loudly, making Cherrisue jump a little, the tea cup rattling on the tray. "It's just that... I usually eat doughnuts at a certain time of day... they're my favorite food."

"Oh." Cherrisue said. "Well then, I'll warm them up later and remake the tea and you can have them then, okay ?" She said with a bright smile.

"I appreciate it." Katakuri said, glad that she was so understanding. Maybe one day, he would be able to trust her enough to show her what was really under his scarf and let her join him on his merienda.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece original character #one piece oc #katakuri x oc #charlotte katakuri #charlotte linlin #big mom pirates #big mom #one piece x oc

[missspringthyme]

March 4th, 2024

I did genuinely attempt to be ready to get to Maastricht early in the day to spend more time with former Italian roommate (FIR) but that obviously didn't happen. I am kinda glad though, because it takes 30 minutes to get to my faculty from her apartment and that would have been a pain to do multiple times in one day.

I met with my supervisor where we decided to do a fresh install of MATLAB because he said he remembers there being a checkbox I might need to tick. My laptop was still working on uninstalling when it was time for the lab meeting to start. He had another meeting at the same time, but walked me to mine because the room was different. I'm very grateful for that because I have no sense of direction and I find the building very confusing. It still takes me about 10 minutes to find my supervisor's office.

There were some familiar faces in the meeting, which I was happy about. Having to fiddle with my laptop every few minutes also gave me an outlet during the presentation. The PhD student presenting is also doing something with rhythms but her focus seems to be more on the default mode network. She's also using fMRI and eeg. Afterwards some of the other masters students were talking about how they think she and one of the other PhD students are hardcore flirting. This is at odds with the fact that one of the guys thinks he heard her say she has a boyfriend. Faulty information, a misreading of the situation, or a blossoming forbidden romance? Who's to say? I was able to contribute that I heard them talking about getting drinks later today. Suspicious, no?

FIR tried to meet me at the bus stop near her house, but my bus arrived sooner than she thought so I ended up wandering around with offline google maps while she stood at the bus stop. Eventually she spotted me and we headed inside. The first thing I did was set up my laptop to start downloading MATLAB and chatted a little. She made dinner, a spinach dish that I had loved before. She complained about her roommates a lot which I thought was pretty bold considering they were all in the house. They're all Italian, so it was like I stepped into a little Italian outpost in the middle of the Netherlands. I haven't met that many Italians at uni, but as soon as you know one person of a specific nationality you generally find out that people with similar backgrounds tend to flock to eachother. FIR didn't start out intending for a 100% italian household, but these things happen.

There were (of course) several bottles of wine in the kitchen. One immediately caught my eye due to the label's incredible graphic design. It has, what I presume to be, a drawing of Zeus/Jupiter staring angrily ahead with the words "ROMAGNA DOP SANGIOVESE SUPERIORE RISERVA 2020" on it in what i can only describe as a microsoft word style font. I made FIR take a photo of me with the bottle.

After dinner, we went into town to get some dessert. She suggested an Irish pub nearby that had some sticky toffee she wanted to try. They didn't have any when we got there, but they did have some sort of creme brulee dish. I paid as a thank you for hosting me, and got myself a ginger beer. She decided to try ginger ale because she's not the biggest fan of ginger but was curious, and ended up not minding it.

The dessert was interesting. It came in a bowl with the sugar topping snapped and crumbled on top. There was also fruits mixed it, I think maybe oranges and something else? Not sure. Everytime I felt I had decided if I liked it or not I would take another bite that would change my opinion.

Afterward, we went to this jazz club to hear live music. The band was incredible, and it was packed. We leaned against the windows in the back in front of a table with chairs that had long since been squeezed around other tables. While we listened, we spotted cards that had been left on every table that were "never have I ever." Armed with Google translate, we played, and I very quickly lost. This was just in time for the band to start playing Freedom '90, and everyone started going insane. We danced and sang along, and I tried to get at least one video of FIR dancing because she always takes photos of other people.

As we were leaving, FIR spotted her roommate walking with a girl she very excitedly told me was also American. The girl was from New York, buti could've guessed that without being told. Truly she emobided every single negative stereotype about New Yorkers, but I tried my best to be nice. I think FIR was expecting us to be instant besties, and seemed a little taken aback when that did not happen. Ah well.

As we walked back, we talked about school systems and how the only reason I am a grade ahead of FIR is because I did the America system. She doesn't like it when I talk about being older because we were born in the same year. We are only the same age for 2 and a half months out of the year. I did tell her, though, that the reason my parents decided not to put me in Japanese school was because they would have sorted me in the year below. I guess being a spring baby just means that everybody wants you in their class.

#march #matlab #thesis #friend

[xiaowhore]

ALRIGHT. put a ring on it wasn't supposed to be angsty as hell even in the original draft, but the angst part would explain the reader's detached behavior towards ayato's affection, and why they never say no to his requests. i still intended to end it the way it did, but there would definitely be an angstier tone and a feeling of conflict if i left the details in. (note that this is a draft i chose to trash for a reason. if you think it's shit... welp. i do too)

the shuumatsuban answers to the yashiro commission's will, acting as spies gathering intel. naturally, leaking information to other people is forbidden—dismissal is far from enough of a punishment. if you were to be dismissed from the job, you would know too much to be let off lightly. even if you've only disclosed a portion of insignificant intel, who can say for sure you won't leak other information to the outside in the foreseeable future?

which brings to ayato's current headache: a member of the shuumatsuban betrayed his trust. he supplied a client with information in exchange for a large sum of money.

of course, the wise course of action is to "silence" the offender for good. but ayato doesn't want to resort to such tactics. he can't afford to be lenient, either.

and then you step in.

so, the reader's undisclosed history: reader was an orphan because their parents died, which left them saddled with their parents' debt. relatives didn't want to take them for obvious reasons, and they were left on their own for a while even as a young child.

but you were taken in by a kind man named akio who felt bad for you. he allowed you to stay in his home, eat his food, ask him for money whenever you need it, so long as you cleaned the house and did the chores. he tried to make you happy, bringing you toys that would normally make children light up in joy, but they never made you so much as smile.

akio was pleasantly surprised when your eyes sparkled at the sight of pastries one day, some cakes given by a neighbor.

you were a good child. you behaved well, never made trouble, cooked good food and tidied the house properly. but the man had never seen you make a happy expression. just simple unbridled joy, a childish delight on your face as you ate forkful after forkful of the sweets. he spoiled you with desserts since then.

akio liked bragging about you to his coworkers, his cute kid he was so so proud of, how you made this dish at dinner last night, or how you were growing up too fast and becoming too mature so quickly it made him feel lonely.

akio talked about you to ayato too, when he was just a young master who played around and had fun. "i'm sure you'd be good friends if you met them!" akio huffed proudly. "[name] is mature and intelligent. i'm certain you'll understand when you talk to them. they're not... very fond of playing, but they'll make good company for you, young master! you can most definitely bribe them to play with you with candy!"

(not long after, ayato was the only one left. he was the only person his little sister can rely on. play time wasn't an option anymore.)

so ayato recognizes you, the moment you step in and shield akio from view. your steely gaze shows no hint of fear, no resignation, just plain frost.

"take me instead," you propose. "it was for my sake. he never would have done this if not for me. spare him, and i will offer my all."

you're presumptuous to think your life is of any worth. to think that it makes for equal bargain, as if it's enough to appease the wrath of the entire organization.

but taking you would cut akio deeper than the blade against his throat ever will.

so ayato makes a prompt decision. zero bloodshed, but more than enough agony to make up for it.

akio is dismissed, never to step foot in the premises again. his life is spared, but yours will never be for you to own. you owe a lifetime of servitude, and you're to never see him again.

"pledge to be mine."

and you do.

so you can't understand it, when ayato starts to want you in another way. can't see the adoration in his eyes because your gaze is always downcast, never to regard him as an equal as you bow deeply in greeting. can't hear the tenderness in his words, because all you hear are orders you're obligated to follow.

ayato wants you to be his.

but if his love is too hard to bear, if it is nothing but a burden, a curse shackling your freedom, then it's better if he never loved you at all.

(akio-san always did say you were loveable, after all.)

#mao — ! #well this is depressing #this is why i never added this in... let's keep everything wholesome... #concepts — !

[deadmomjokes]

I want to thank you for your addition onto that food/exercise post, because I've been trying to find a way to unlearn bad thoughts I have regarding food (telling myself that I need to eat "better" or "healthier", moralizing my food choices as bad or good, and your addition to that post helped me find language that doesn't encourage me to blame myself for some of the foods I eat.

You're very, very welcome. I'm right there with you in the middle of the pits of unlearning, so I know exactly what you mean and where you're coming from.

Having my daughter really woke me up to a lot of stuff I needed and wanted to change about the way I thought, and food was/is a huge one. I have a history of borderline disordered eating, and a massively complicated relationship with food and weight and body image and all that. But seeing this tiny little person with no preconceptions and no knowledge of what food even is really opened my eyes. I'm (re)learning right alongside her while I try to make sure she never ends up in the same places I did.

In case it's helpful, to you or anyone else looking into shifting their views on eating, her dad and I focus on four main things that we want to instill in her regarding food. (Below the cut for length purposes.)

What I said in that post, which is that foods do either lots of good things or only a few good things for your body, and you want overall more of the 'lots of good things' foods. We make the conscious effort to never let the word 'unhealthy' come out of our mouths. Sometimes it's 'less healthy' or 'less good for your body' with foods like candy, but we build it back on a foundation of 'candy isn't bad, it's just not the best food for you and too much can make your body feel yucky.' Another way I've seen this put is "sometimes food" and "anytime food." Cookies and chocolate are lovely "sometimes foods," and so are french fries and chips. Things that are more nutrient dense are "anytime foods."

We eat a wide variety of foods, because they all have different things our bodies need. She'll even ask us now 'what's this one have?' when she's trying a food, and we get to tell her about how yogurt has lots of good protein, and oranges have vitamin C and fiber. (We can get her to balance her meals this way, too; if we tell her plate needs more, different foods, she'll almost always willingly add something to her request. Today, breakfast was bagel and cream cheese. She wanted lunch to be cereal, but we told her she already had lots of grains and we needed something a little different. So she switched to chicken nuggets and apple, and we got to talk about protein and fiber. It was awesome. She's awesome.)

She decides when she's full, and we don't argue or bargain. None of the dessert bribery that people do, and none of the 'clean your plate' or 'no, you're not done, you have to have x-many bites'. We cannot dictate how she feels. It's her body, and her stomach and mouth are part of that. If she only eats three bites of dinner and says she's done, we do ask follow-up questions to make sure she's really not hungry vs. looking for something different, but we never force her to eat. Those "sometimes foods," or 'treats' like cookies and candy have their place, but we don't use them as a reward for first eating "good" food. That just teaches her that certain foods aren't fun, and others are forbidden except for when she's doing something someone wants. Just lots of complicated and not-exactly-positive messages wrapped up in there. It's okay to reward yourself with things you like, but only so long as you don't bring guilt or shame into it. Because...

Food should taste and feel good, it's okay to have preferences, and it's okay to both try and decline trying. Her favorite meal is chicken nuggets and fries, and we let that happen within reason because her preferences matter. She also LOVES roasted seaweed, which I'm neutral on and my husband greatly dislikes. You better believe our pantry has a toddler-height shelf with seaweed just for her. She dislikes beef, but is a good sport a lot of the time and tries it when I make it. BUT, we also make sure there are lots of other things in the meal that she does like, so if she either doesn't enjoy it or doesn't feel like trying, she's not stuck choking it down or feeling pressured to do so. You don't have to force yourself to eat something you don't enjoy just because you think you should or 'it's sooooooo good for you'. (I'm sorry, I have yet to find a way to cook Brussels Sprouts that don't make me wanna claw my own tongue off, no matter how much vitamin K and vitamin c they would give me, and beets make me gag with no exceptions. I don't eat either of them, and I don't feel bad for doing so.) You should definitely feel free to play around and find new ways to try it, because maybe you're like my daughter and hate peas that come in a can with a burning, kitchen-destroying passion, but love steamed, frozen ones with butter. But you also don't need to hold onto guilt surrounding all the 'healthy' food you should like, and all the 'unhealthy' food you shouldn't. Do you feel guilty for your favorite color because there's so many other colors out there that other people just love? Do you also surround yourself with only one color and shun all others? Food is color. Build yourself a kaleidoscope and enjoy it.

I know this is tangenty, but I have a lot of feelings about food now lol

#food tw #disordered eating tw #nutrition #health

[jackson--t]

The last one turns off the light

Summary: On the day of Ragnar's funeral, the family reunites - but even before that, chaos begins. When the Lothbroks brothers get together, the world turns upside down - and not only funny things will come out.

Words: ~ 3.7 k.

Pairings/tags: please look up at AO3, too much for here. We have one crossover pairing, which will be Ubbe x Eggsy (Kingsman). And obviously, Heahmund x Ivar. 🤣

This story is a comforter for me and hopefully entertaining for you. 🖤 Other updates follow this week, since I had a light down. xD

If you want to be tagged in this one, tell me please. 🥰 I always feel so uncormfortable tagging people and thinking they don't like all of my weird stuff, lovely @youbloodymadgenius 🤣❤.

Chapter 1: Of canapès and barking dogs.

Bjorn, Torvi & Sigurd

 It was not a nice day, Bjorn had known that from the beginning. Going to funerals was never easy - but holding his father's at his mother-in-law's house was. He had always believed that Ragnar would grow much older - and that the day he died would be peaceful.

But the house of Aslaug had been strangely restless for days. Sigurd had already arrived and had taken possession of the guest room next to Torvi and Bjorn's - his other brothers would soon follow. Bjorn folded the note in his hand lightly and sighed softly. He had read through the words a thousand times, and yet he kept getting stuck.

"I don't know why Aslaug wants me to give the speech," he said softly to Torvi, and she smiled slightly. Her hands softly stroked Bjorn's back, and her voice was like velvet against his ear.

"Because you're the oldest, that's why."

"Everyone will think that Ivar will hold it. After all, he's the famous author."

"Don't worry about that, you know people love you."

Bjorn creased the notes in his hand a little and turned his gaze again to the scrawled words. "My father was a great man. He was born in Kattegat in 1968. Kattegat is known for fishing and... God Torvi, it sounds like a school lecture. Ivar should do it."

"Be brave, Bjorn.", Torvi muttered to him, when suddenly the door opened.

"Are there, the guys with the coffin. With Dad." Sigurd said, who was still talking through the door before he could even open it with a rumble. Bjorn clicked his tongue.

"Still haven't learned to knock, huh?" he hissed, and Sigurd rolled his eyes.

"I don't care, now get down here. Mom's going to freak out - you know how sensitive she is."

"Then she shouldn't have done the funeral here in her house."

"I'll say three words to that: lazy old woman."

"Sigurd!"

Sigurd laughed lightly, and nodded to Bjorn, who slowly rose from the bed and placed his notes on the nightstand. "Come, Torvi."

It was not an easy step that Bjorn took down the stairs, together with Sigurd and Torvi. The last time he had seen his father alive, everything had been fine: he had sat in front of the TV in the evening and watched a game with Bjorn. It had been quiet hours, and the last touch Bjorn actively remembered was the light feeling of Ragnar's fingers on his forearm when he had told him a good joke. Ragnar had laughed so loudly that there had been tears in his eyes - it had been a lovely evening.

Bjorn had long wondered if those last moments were enough, enough to be last words. He should perhaps have said an "I love you," something that expressed his deep admiration for this man. But one never knew when those were the last words - and when Bjorn saw the heavy oak coffin standing in the living room, along with the funeral home staff, his heart felt heavy. It was like lead, as if all the weights were pulling down the otherwise strong and heavy body. But he remained strong, even when he saw how Sigurd became slightly pale around the nose.

Nevertheless, with a quiet clearing of his throat and a respectful nod to the staff, he stood in front of the coffin and opened it with a slight, barely audible movement.

An iron silence spread, and one could almost feel the oppressive heaviness as Björn stared into the coffin. The funeral home staff lowered their heads in reverence as Bjorn suddenly said dryly, "That's not my father."

The silence around the room changed as the employees looked first at each other, and then at Bjorn, who still kept his gaze fixed on the coffin.

One of the staff came around and looked at the dead man, then opened his mouth.

"Oh God, that's really the wrong one. Guys, we put the wrong one in the coffin. We're terribly sorry, Mister Lothbrok - we'll be right back."

Torvi and Bjorn watched the men as they took the coffin back outside; then Bjorn exhaled deeply.

Sigurd in the corner behind them let out a soft chuckle.

"Well, if this is how the funeral is going to start, it's going to be cheerful. A bad omen."

"Don't say that!" Bjorn hissed, and Sigurd just snarled.

"It already started when Ivar said he was bringing his weird drug friend."

"He's a pharmacist, you monkey."

"Same thing, he sells drugs to old people. Maybe he can mix some in the punch."

“Sigurd!"

"What?"

"A little more respect." Torvi said annoyed, while Bjorn exhaled deeply.

"My respect just sailed out with the wrong daddy."

"Oh man. Please let this day go by quickly and without a hitch," Bjorn muttered, trying not to think about the mess that had ensued last Christmas when Ivar and Sigurd had fought over dessert and had destroyed one window.

"The day is guaranteed to be a disaster. Just think who's all coming together here today. They don't say the Lothbroks are all crazy for nothing. And if Ivar says a stupid thing about Martha, I'll punch him in the face!" Sigurd snarled; he took one of the canapés, but got lightly smacked on the fingers by Aslaug, who had joined in quietly and silently.

"Don't!"

"I'm hungry, though."

"You wait until everyone gets here!" Aslaug hissed; one could tell she wasn't feeling well. Torvi silently accompanied her to the kitchen again, while Bjorn sat down next to Sigurd's armchair with a snort.

"I'm so going to fail. Why isn't Ivar giving the speech?" he muttered; he also took a canapé, as did Sigurd, who by now had rested his legs on the little table next to him.

"It doesn't matter, no one will listen anyway. Everyone will blubber. Besides, he's bringing his friend, that fucking Brit. He won't talk in front of him, I bet you."

"All right, let him. They've been together for a long time."

"Yeah, while Ubbe will end up an old maid."

"You too."

The brothers looked at each other, then they both laughed. And although it was not a fitting day for laughter, they both couldn't help it. They were only interrupted when Aslaug came storming out of the kitchen and slapped them both on the knuckles for eating too many of the canapés.

 

§-----§-----§

 

Ubbe, Hvitserk, Ivar, Heahmund & Eggsy

 "Which house was it again?" Ubbe asked, drawing his eyebrows together; Ivar yawned slightly as he looked out the window at the passing houses. He already knew the area by heart, had already spent so many hours driving to and from Heahmund's house - and not just because of Heahmund. Heahmund's little brother Eggsy was Ivar's age, and the two had been best friends for a long time. It had been rather inappropriate when Ivar had confessed to him one day that he fancied his older brother - but after Eggsy had punched him in the face for it during a visit to a club, to be fair, they had been best friends again.

"That one up front. You know that house, you drove me here so many times!" Ivar snarled; Ubbe just snorted softly.

"Yeah, it was dark back then, and you were drunk."

"Alcohol is my muse. And a naked Heahmund."

"No, Ivar. Please don't. At least today. He's a pharmacist, isn't he?"

Ivar rolled his eyes slightly and exhaled in annoyance, then nodded slightly. He ran a hand through his hair while his gaze was fixed on his older brother.

"Yeah, you know that too," he grumbled, and Ubbe shrugged.

"Do you think he can take a look at my wrist? There's all this discoloration on it."

"Ubbe, please. He's a pharmacist, not a doctor," Hvitserk interjected, who was sitting in the back seat.

Ivar knew that his older brother was very upset inside. Ivar felt it the same way - when he had learned of Ragnar's death, a part of his world had collapsed. It had taken him a long time to come to terms - a long time, and a handful of Heahmund's best pills. That had helped. When Ivar saw the slightly clouded look on Hvitserk's face in the rearview mirror, he bit his lower lip lightly.

"But he deals with pills, he knows what I can take!" Ubbe replied irritably.

"Eggsy deals, Heahmund thinks it sucks," Ivar said, amused, turning his gaze back outside.

"Why can they even do that? Eggsy looks like the last spade."

"Ay!"

"Ain't that the truth."

"Maybe Heahmund will have some pills for you in a minute, Hvitty. You look really pale," Ivar said quietly; his bright eyes found Hvitserk's, and he clearly saw his brother forcing a smile.

"I just have a stomachache, after all, and a little dizziness. I'll be fine."

"Here we are," Ubbe said, and the three brothers got out of the car.

The house was in a somewhat quieter corner of the town and was a veritable palace; it had been expensive, for Heahmund and Eggsy's parents were both doctors. Heahmund had confessed to Ivar once long ago that he knew he was a disappointment to them as an apothecary - but Ivar had always encouraged him. Heahmund loved working with chemicals, and the fact that he had fallen in love with him, well - Ivar clearly owed a bit of that to his love of Eggsy's forbidden tablets. Ivar remembered it clearly - an Iggy Pop concert, drunk to the point of no return, and he had dared to kiss Heahmund for the first time.

He remembered hot fingers on his body, wet and sweaty bodies pressing against each other, loud and booming music in his ears, vibrating on his skin.

But that quickly disappeared as Ubbe pressed the button on the bell and waited with his two brothers. It took a moment, but then a grinning Eggsy opened the door.

"Holla, we don't actually buy anything at the door," he said, and Ivar laughed. He chimed in with Eggsy and went into the house, with Ubbe and Hvitserk following. For a moment Eggsy and Ubbe looked at each other, then Ubbe said, "Do you have anything for Hvitty's stomachache?"

"Hmm. I don't know... I'll go see. Hold on. Oh, Ivar - Heahmund's in the shower, he'll be right there in a minute," Eggsy replied, winking at Ivar, who again bit his lip lightly before catching Ubbe's shocked look.

"Ivar, I dare you. You're wearing your fancy suit, Dad gave you that one at the time for your first book launch. If it gets wet-" Ubbe muttered, and Ivar snorted.

"What, it's just water!"

"I think Ubbe once again couldn't get it into his mouth that he means the cum stains that are on your suit afterwards when Heahmund has... wiped himself on your lips," Hvitserk threw into the round and was rewarded by a punch in the neck from Ubbe and a hearty laugh from Ivar.

"I'll wash your filthy mouth out in a minute... Ah, look. Here's some paracetamol, you can take it, can't you?" Ubbe said, holding up a brown little box with the words written all over it in a very slightly scuffed way. Ivar raised his eyebrows as Ubbe tossed the little tin to Hvitserk.

"Hmm, okay... I'll take these without water, not that my suit will get "wet" yet," Hvitserk muttered, and Ivar nudged him lightly.

"Stop it now, I'm shitting myself laughing. But I'm really going to see where Heahmund is," he said, and went up the stairs to the upper floors. Hvitserk swallowed his pills while Ubbe wandered lightly up and down the hallway, looking at the photos on the wall.

It had taken Ubbe a long time to accept Heahmund and Ivar's relationship. Heahmund was an educated and kind man, but Ubbe thought him far too old for Ivar. He knew his little brother and his moods, and also his volatility. It was a real miracle that the relationship had lasted two years by now - which was surely due to Ubbe always keeping an eye on Ivar. Even Ragnar had taken a while to get along with Heahmund. Not as a mate, not as a man - but as the boyfriend at Ivar's side. He had always seen his son in the arms of pretty women, but never in the arms of another man who could almost be his father himself.

Ubbe's eyes wandered over the many photos on the wall and lingered on a family photo. It was visible that they were a well-heeled, wealthy family - only Eggsy stood out, as always. The boy was just like them with Ivar, the nestling, the baby - and the spawn of hell. Even though Ubbe really liked Eggsy's grin, and his blunt, British humor.

"What do you think it's going to be like today? Wow, are the walls yellow here.", Hvitserk said quietly; Ubbe directed his gaze to the beige wall, but only raised his eyebrows. It was nothing new that Hvitserk had lousy taste when it came to color naming.

"Well... it's dad. I'm sure it won't be pretty. I can't wait to see how Bjorn's speech turns out."

"Why isn't Ivar holding it?" Hvitserk said; as the two looked at each other, Hvitserk lightly stroked the wall with his fingers. Ubbe smiled briefly; he put a hand on Hvitserk's shoulder and sighed.

"I don't know. It doesn't matter either, he's the oldest, and he'll do fine. It was mother's wish. And Dad would have loved it. We'll all be together again," he said quietly, and Hvitserk nodded silently.

He was about to say something when Eggsy came down the stairs. He tossed a small can to Ubbe and winked. "Here, paracetamol."

"It's all good Eggs, we've already had some. It was okay, right? There were some lying here, we really only took two."

Eggsy's grin disappeared from his face; he was about to say something when Ivar and Heahmund came down the stairs.

"Hello, you two!" Heahmund said; he was smiling, but he placed his hand lightly comfortingly on Ubbe's shoulder, who smiled only slightly. "I'm really very sorry."

"It's okay. It's part of life, isn't it?" Ubbe replied; he waited until Heahmund removed his hand, and then cleared his throat, not without another quick glance at the slightly distraught Eggsy.

"I'll go start the car. Eggsy, are you going to ride with us?"

"Who... me? Nah, I'll... um... drive myself later, I've got stuff to do," he said, forcing a soft smile.

When Ubbe was out the door and the others were about to follow, Eggsy stood in front of the door. He pushed it shut lightly and looked at the three, who eyed him in slight confusion.

"Eggs, what are you doing? Make room.", Ivar snarled and grabbed Eggsy by the shoulder, but the latter just pushed him away slightly.

"Honestly - Hvit - how many of those pills did you take?" he said harshly, and Hvitserk snorted.

"Two, why? And you guys should repaint your house, that yellow paint really stings in the eyes."

"FUCK." Eggsy said, and Heahmund grabbed him by the shoulder.

"What do you mean with fuck, Eggsy? Do you have like... no. Don't tell me you..."

"Yeah… I did."

"What's wrong?" Ivar interjected, whose gaze had so far only wandered back and forth between the two.

"The pills.” Eggsy murmured, holding up the brown tin.

"Paracetamol, it says. Are you stupid?" Hvitserk said, and Eggsy opened his mouth.

"That's really a bit inappropriate now, huh... These aren't paras."

A rough hand reached into Eggsy's shirt, and Heahmund pushed his younger brother hard back against the door. "What do you mean Eggsy?!"

"I was... experimenting, it was supposed to be for tonight, I... I named it xylitol x10."

"What."

"What?"

"Is that why the walls are so fucking yellow?!" Hvitserk shouted, trying to jump towards Eggsy, but Ivar held him back.

"I'm sorry, but you don't just eat any fucking pills lying around somewhere either -"

"It had paracetamol on it, you asshole!!!"

"Yeah, you think I'd write party drug on it?"

"STOP!" Heahmund yelled between them, holding the boys apart; he could feel exactly how tense Hvitserk and Ivar were breathing.

"What's in it, Eggsy?" Heahmund asked, and all eyes turned to the young Englishman. Eggsy fussed, running a hand down the back of his neck, then muttering lightly.

"Well, this and that...I didn't...quite calculate that."

"Hallucinogens?" Heahmund grumbled; he still had his brother in stitches, and Eggsy nodded slightly.

"Everything. Stimulants, sleeping pills, painkillers. It's supposed to get you high on a new level."

It took a moment before Hvitserk let out a slight cry of panic and went for Eggsy's throat; Ivar interposed himself but gave Eggsy a deadly look.

"How long does it last?" he asked frantically, and Eggsy opened his lips slightly. It took him a moment before he quietly replied, "Twelve hours?"

Hvitserk was about to go after Eggsy again, but this time Heahmund joined in.

"THAT MEANS I'M GOING COMPLETELY HIGH AND FUCKED UP ON MY FATHER'S FUNERAL?" Hvitserk shouted, and Eggsy shrugged slightly.

"That... yeah, something like that. But it won't be so bad, because… you just won't notice anything."

"Eggsy, this is going to be trouble. Shit, what do we do now? Ubbe doesn't have a clue, does he?"

Ivar bit his lower lip lightly, still looking at his best friend. He knew that Eggsy had never done this on purpose, guaranteed, and that he had simply wanted to resell the pills. They had done it so many times, together, to really kick ass at festivals - if Ragnar or Ubbe had ever known that, and Heahmund - oh, Ivar was sure he would end up in hell. But he stuck by Eggsy, who by now was really pale around the nose.

"We'll work it out. We can say he's allergic to the pills because they were... expired."

"Ivar, that's... Ubbe will never believe that. He himself is so..."

"We have no choice."

Hvitserk pressed his head against Ivar's shoulder and let out a low snort; his hands clawed tightly into the suit of Ivar's shoulder, and Ivar patted his head lightly.

"Well, at least... the funeral won't be so bad for you then." he said, catching an indignant look from Heahmund, which he only returned with a shrug.

"We have no choice, like I said."

A honk sounded outside, and all four flinched violently; Hvitserk raised his eyes, already looking slightly dreamy.

"Fuck... Eggsy, get changed and join us as soon as you can. It's best if Hvitserk drinks a lot of water to get that stuff out. God, Eggsy...you must be from the mailman.", Heahmund said with a slight frown.

"Shut up, it wasn't like I wanted this!"

"It's okay now." Ivar said, taking Hvitserk's forearm in his hand; he guided his brother easily while Eggsy opened the front door.

"You just have to pretend everything's okay long enough. So Ubbe won't notice anything, because he'll kill Eggsy, me and Heahmund then. And with his kind, himself, too," Ivar added; he held Hvitserk tightly as he pulled slightly towards the flowerbed.

"The flowers smell like butter."

"Sure, everybody knows that," Ivar said, turning in a panic to Eggsy, who stood like a little pale something in the front doorway, watching the three of them get into Ubbe's car.

He raised his arm ever so slightly and with compressed lips nodded to Ubbe, who waved at him. Only when the car turned the corner slightly did he flee back into the house in a panic.

The first few miles through the city in the car were silent; until Ubbe cleared his throat and looked at the slightly cramped Heahmund and Ivar in the back seat through the mirror.

"Everything’s good? What else did you do inside?" he asked, and Ivar and Heahmund looked at each other slightly. Then Ivar put on a warm smile.

"I was arguing with Eggs about what he should wear. He refuses to wear a suit."

"Haha yeah, that’s my little... cutie... brother.", Heahmund laughed, and got a firm jab from Ivar in the ribcage for it - which Ubbe luckily didn't see because he had to brake hard. An elderly couple walked across the intersection, and Hvitserk suddenly looked around in confusion.

"Wasn't there a dog in here just now?" Hvitserk said, mouth agape; Ubbe at the steering wheel drew his eyebrows together, while Ivar and Heahmund exchanged brief glances in the back seat.

"What?" Ubbe asked, snorting in amusement, while Ivar lightly bit his lower lip. Hvitserk's gaze turned towards Ubbe in confusion, and he stared at his older brother slightly absently.

"There was a dog barking in here just now, wasn't there?"

"Hvitty what the... did you take dr...?" Ubbe began, but Ivar interrupted him frantically, putting his hand on Ubbe's shoulder from behind.

"Aren't we almost there?" he said with pointed curiosity, and Ubbe turned his gaze skeptically to the road. "Yes, in a minute," he said, giving Ivar a puzzled look through the rearview mirror. But his youngest brother only smiled an exaggeratedly broad and hearty smile, while Hvitserk pressed his head against the window, smiling slightly.

"You guys are acting weird. But today it’s okay. After all, today is an important day, and it's finally another day when the whole family gets to be together loving each other. If only Dad could see us like this," Ubbe said quietly, albeit with a soft, crooked smile at the corner of his mouth.

If only dad could see us.

Ivar's hands clenched slightly, and he exhaled softly. His brother was doped up on whatever drugs Eggsy had made up makeshift from his pharmacy studies. Bjorn would make a beastly speech, Ivar knew, even though it hurt his heart to think of his oldest brother that way. Sigurd and he would quarrel, and even that day hold grudges against each other. Ivar would show up at his father's funeral with his boyfriend, whom not many knew yet. Aunt Helga would have a heart attack. Ubbe would have a crisis as soon as he realized that Hvitserk hadn't just taken paracetamol. Oh yes, if only dad could see us.

But it was Heahmund's warm hands that closed around his and held him tightly; very tightly, so that Ivar immediately felt safe and comfortable. He glanced at his partner, and Heahmund smiled encouragingly at him. At least he was there - because with him, Ivar felt complete.

Even if his brother in the passenger seat wore a slight thread of drool in the corner of his mouth and was guaranteed to be fantasizing about yellow walls and butter-smelling flowers, and imaginary dogs barking in the car.

#vikings #modern au #heahmund x ivar #eggsy unwin #ivar the boneless #heavar #hvitserk lothbrok #family #crossover fanfiction #fanfiction

[i-hate-everyone--equal]

Freeridge's Advocate.

I do not own on my block only my characters and this is chapter 2 of this fanfic. I also do not speak spanish so please bear with me.

Waking up to a raging hangover was not one of the things I wanted to go through this early in the morning. It's a real struggle to open my eyes and when I do dizziness, lines, and stars are the only things in my sights for awhile. That's why it takes me a while til I notice that I was the only one in the room. Letting out a long groan before sitting up and stretching that only meant that Juju didnt sleep much at all. Turning to grab my phone I see purple glaring numbers reading 05:49. I let out another long groan. I've only slept for 2 hours and, let me tell you my body can feel that shit.

Hearing my name being called from downstairs is the only thing that breaks me out of my thoughts. I hear her coming running like a stampede..... 'If I hurry and jump out the window I might be able to make it to my car.......' the thoughts causing me to shake my head and pause for a brief second....did I really just debate jumping out the window because I didn't feel like dealing with my - the closed door banged open to reveal my dreaded sister.

"SISSY THERE IS NO FOOD!" What time is it?

Not even 6 o clock and this mother fucker's worried bout food. Is she crying?

"What are you crying for?" I groaned out. The hangover I developed from drinking too much last night really whooping my ass. Whilst my youngest triplet is not making my life any easier. I should've taken an aspirin before I started drinking then I wouldn't even have a headache. Glancing over to my right I see that Nena is still peacefully sleeping. That girl didn't even let the 5.6 earthquake or the category 4 hurricane wake her up that we were in a year ago.

"Theres no food!!!" Aaliyah continued to scream again with her dramatic ass. Her auburn dreadlocks swinging against her caramel skin, and her hazel eyes wide with worry as she waved her arms around in a save me jesus motion. Other wise known as the help me lord and my personal favorite jesus take the wheel motion. Where she be getting all the energy from in the morning? Definitely not from I nor anyone else in the family. Looking closely at her face I see nothing but exhaustion....and hunger.

Leveling her with a glare I wait until she is finished doing her little food macarena. Which doesnt take long at all.

"What the hell you want me to do about it?" Damn near letting the words leave my lips in growls. This puta know damn well that I'm not a morning person. She turned her pleading watery eyes to me. That really being the only answer I needed and really wanting to get away from her gordita ass. I let out a long groan and quickly get up knowing I won't be able to sleep if plum wakes up hungry and already having one of mi bebés with tears in her eyes at my door, crying for food as if she hasn't eaten in weeks. I turn towards my night bag to get my stuff and get ready I go into the updated bathroom not sparing the time to appreciate being far too ticked off to look anywhere but the sink and mirror. Brushing my teeth before throwing on a black strapless crop top, and some light blue pants along with some black soldier boots. I head out of my room mi hermanas no where to be seen hopefully going to catch a few more hours of sleep together.

Before leaving I glance back into the master room to see plum sleeping with her ass up in the air. Causing me to let out a light chuckle. She's one of the only things that gets me laughing now a days and she'll probably be just as hungry as Liyah when she wakes up. Shaking my head I quietly cover her with a blanket before closing the bedroom door and heading for the front door.

Making sure my .9mm is loaded and grabbing my wallet I close and lock the door before running to my all black impala. Wanting to get this over with I set the course to a Walmart in freeridge, seeing as it was a 20 minute drive I take off. Cruising to Like me by Joey Badass.....Maybe arriving a little sooner that expected because of my magical driving skills.



I walk in and the store was basically empty at this god forbidden time. Not even the workers look like they want to be here at 6 something in the morning. Huffing I begin to walk through the aisles and grab everyones favorite food so I don't have to hear they loud mouth. Making sure to grab some chocolate cookies for Nena while also grabbing some bacon bites for Cerberus. While getting things for this weeks dinner I start walking to the milk section. Nena has been begging me to make chocolate mouse for a while and it could be a good quick new home dessert. Grabbing 2 glass cartons full of 2% white and chocolate milk I was putting them into the cart when I suddenly hear some shuffling in the next aisle over going towards the bathroom behind the she section. Glancing over, I see a boy about the same age as me in very bad shape trying to go into the men's bathroom. He was leaking blood from the various cuts on his body and just slowly shuffling along until he finally made it through the bathroom doors.

....

Deciding to mind my own damn business I carry my ass on to the other aisles I needed to go down. Really too tired and not trying to be superman and get into anything over my head with my still existing hangover. All those hope's and dreams are smashed through the window though when I suddenly hear.

" Where that lil nigga go?!" Glancing down the candy aisle like some irked off oompa loompa, I see three niggas all of them wearing turd green and piss yellow shirts. All of them looking to be 20 or over so why they looking for a little beaten up boy? The one who spoke seems to be the one in the middle. He had a faded hair cut and a lot of badly placed tattoos on his face one of them being numb which he had tattooed in giant letters under his eye.

"They going to kill us if we lost him. This the first time they let him out since Spooky got locked up!!" The second guy who spoke up was a lighter shade than the other two. He had very short dreads on the top of his head the rest of his hair was shaved off he didn't have any tattoos on his face but, I think he should reconsider and follow into his friends footsteps. Everything on him was just begging to be covered up with ink he was big and ugly all around from his eyes, to his nose, to his teeth. The true definition of having a face only a mother could love.

Spooky?? ...Well damn lil vato doesnt even have any back up....Lemme go mind my business before, I get caught up in something I dont need to.

"Go check the bathrooms!" Yep just going to walk right passed and go pay for my things.

Going straight into the bathroom following the three guys I silently get behind them to see the biggest one who had long nappy dreaded hair holding the poor kid up by his torn shirt. The fear in his brown eyes triggering something in me causing me to move. First knocking the two people in front of me out by pinching pressure points on their necks. The boy's eyes widened probably just realizing I'm not with the other black people. I go up to the biggest guy grabbing the arm that wasnt holding the boy up and dislocating it. Shoving my glock into his mouth when he tried to scream not letting him look at me.

"Let him go." My deadly calm voice rang out. Promising pain if he didnt do what I wanted in the next 5 seconds. Dropping the kid as if he was made of fire......... this nigga just pissed himself... Alright.

Pistol whipping him in the face to knock him out, I swiftly grab the boy and begin wrapping him up in his jacket. I grab his arm gently and start to lead him out the bathroom to my cart, then to the register to pay before walking out.

Putting my groceries into the car I turn my head to look at the scared boy and notice he got some bushy ass eyebrows. Also noticing his torn clothes while also looking at his beat up and bleeding face. So deciding to put off the eyebrow subject until later I fully turn to the kid.

"Are you coming with me?" The boy looked shocked when I asked him that. Sighing, I continued. I wish Liyah was here she's the one who talks to people. Not that I can't it's just more of an annoyance more than anything.

"I wont hurt you and, I dont have anything to patch you up here so are you coming?" Patiently waiting until I see him nodding his head, his eyebrows growing up and down along with his head but suprisingly not moving an inch off his face. He goes to the passenger seat trying to open the door as you would a regular car.

I hold back my giggles, as his eyes damn near popping out of his skull when the butterfly doors did what they were supposed to. Going towards the driver seat I get in the car.

"My name is Elaina." I said turning to him once I finished getting situated in the car. "My name is Cesar."

"Well Cesar, you got any family you need to call to come get you?" He looks down at his lap. "My brother is in jail. Has been for 2 years now." 'Hm. That's not reassuring. Does he have the same eyebrows as you salad?' Looking forward for him to continue but only becoming disappointed when he doesnt keep talking....

"Alright let's go home then." Starting the car I speed out the parking lot."Thank you for helping me." I heard his pained mumble. Turning my head to see him glancing around the carbody still tended up from the ass whooping he just got, before finally deciding to just look out the window. "Anytime mijo I would want the same to be done for my sisters."

"How many sisters do you have?" He asked turning towards me. Damn....this kid got some bushy ass eyebrows. "I used to have 5." My simple but monotone tone of voice rang out through the car throat tightening at the mere thought of my elder sisters. "Now I have 3. Aaliyah, Julianna, and Arianna. You'll met them when we arrive at the house. We're almost there hold on tight." Going way above the speed limit I arrive at the street 15 minutes later. While driving down the road I notice a moving truck parked in front of the house. I keep driving til I was parked right next to it in front of the new house.

Turning towards Cesar to tell him to get out but, letting out a laugh when I see him clinging to the seats for dear life."Sorry I do drive a little fast." He turned his wide brown eyes to me as if I'm crazy, but he didnt die so..... Letting his eyes wonder over to the house I swear I see them get a little bit bigger.

"Come help me with the groceries and let's go get you patched up." Walking into the house with bags of food. I go straight to the kitchen its cherry wood cabinets the first thing that catches my attention. The silver flat top stove on the marbled cherrywood island in the middle of the kitchen. The ovens were mounted inside the cabinets so you dont have to bend to bake it put things in the oven. 'I'm going to be able to cook my ass off in this.'

"Juju!! Come help me please!!" I screamed while passing into the kitchen. Motioning for Cesar to hop on to the marble island. "Yeah Sissy?" I hear her say before catching sight of Cesar. "Oh sweetie what happened?" She said in her soothing southern voice.

" I saved him from some niggas while shopping. Can you patch him up? LIYAH GET YOU ASS DOWN HERE!!" Where the hell that puta at?? Waking me up at the unforgivable hour to not have her ass down here when I bring her damn food. "Sissy I'm fixing up my room!"....No this bitch did not just.

"Alright then I'm eating your cheetos!"

...

Yeah move them feet bitch. "Not my cheetos!!!!!" She screams rampaging into the kitchen wearing a baggy t shirt and some sweats. Stopping abruptly when she bumps into the Mexican boy who had yet to sit on the counter because Juju was checking out all of his injuries. She let's out a squeak"H-Hi."

Did she just stutter? Quickly turning to look at Juju who was already looking at me with amusement and amazement. Aaliyah miss 'hey what you trying to do tonight attitude' is stuttering? Dont get me wrong I know she is still a virgin all of us are but I also know damn well no one has ever gotten her to squeak out just a hi. "Hola princesa." Cesar replied smirking. Oh so you tryna get at my sister okay Salad but, you could tell he was just as captivated in her as she was in him. She shyly puts up a smile the blush that had started to creep when she set eyes on the eyebrow warrior had damn near caked her cheeks much to her horror and my satisfaction. The older sister in me enjoying seeing her little sister embarrass herself every once in awhile. She then turns and high tails it out the kitchen as if a hell hound was on her heels.

'The fuck is her problem?' I think heading out the kitchen. She ruined my fucking show. "Nana can you put the groceries up while I got check on this puta?" I asked her, before going after my little sister. Walking down the hallways passing people putting furniture away according to the interior designers instructions. I finally see her going into a room with a rose painted on the door. Well that is her favorite flower and shes an artist so I'm not surprised to see her already painting up the house and it's not like I mind as long as I can paint some of the rooms and doors as well. Walking into her room I notice my daughter playing with some toys on Liyah's bed.....and Liyah is going through her bags??

Once she sees me in the door way though she drags me into her room.

"Who is sexy in the kitchen?! You cant just bring home cute people and not tell me!! Look at what I'm wearing!" Oh this horny little mother-

"Sorry sis I didnt know I would be saving anyone at walmart today. Next time I'll be sure to tell you where to go shove it next time your hungry." I said teasing walking over to Nena who was dressed in her favorite blue jeans and a plain grey shirt.

While ignoring my sister's call of "No!That's not what I mean." She was making the t rex eat the little soldiers because they stole her cookies.'....Damn right mija you protect your cookies.' joining her by grabbing another t rex I begin to Nom Nom Nom on the soldiers who were just trying to escape the inevitable. I ended up tickling her stomach and she started laughing her little ass off.

"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME!!!!" I hear a yell from down the hall. All three in the room groaning upon recognizing the tone of voice and how close it was to the room. All of us looking at each other but before we could say anything the voice of Ari continued.

"I SAID I DIDN'T WANT IT RIGHT THERE ARE YOU RETARDED ESE DO YOU KNOW WHO MY SISSY IS?!!"

Grabbing Nena, I start heading to the sound of the banshee. I spot her and her dyed blonde hair screaming at one of the very handsome but obviously Puerto Rican male mover. I take a really good look at her as I'm walking over. She's a shade lighter than any of us from how long shes had to stay inside.

"Hey princessa how about we not call the people who decorate the house and have our things in their hands retarded." My voice turning into what my sisters calls my 'Persephone' side I just call it my serious voice. Thinking about it I really do love Arianna, before the disease took over her and her sister she was the sweetest little girl always being polite and caring. Then once shit went down and got real she became critically depressed not saying that she didn't have a right to but when she fell in the deep hole of depression, and we all fell in right after her. Not that it was any of her fault it just seems like once the cancer came, life just got worse every where else to. After beating the cancer, shit just got more real in Crenshaw forcing all of us to do some things we regret but then we left there on good terms with everything before moving here. Although now she hides her hurt and pain behind this spoiled princess act.

"Sissy I want him fired right now!" What did he even do for you to come at him like this? Looking around I notice everything looks fine. They actually did a great job decorating for all my brother is worth in the sibling department you cant deny that he does know our style.

"What's the problem Ari?" I said with a light shrug after examining the house making sure there was nothing actually wrong. Also while loving all the plants the movers were placing around the house. Just as that thought crosse my mind 2 workers both with

hands full of bamboo palm, ivy, and moss cane all great plants for air filtration. Making a small note in my head to put some air filtering plants onto the med room I being my attention back on the subject at hand.

"THEY GAVE ME THE SMALLEST ROOM! I WANT THE MASTER BEDROOM!" She screamed in my face...screamed....in my motherfucking face?

Has this bitch lost her mind? Looking down at Nena I see her giving Ari the same look of have you lost your mind? 'I'm bout to whoop her ass.'I think to myself as I hear the little devil behind my ear saying 'grab her by her dyed blonde hair and toss her ass over the railing down towards the pits of hell where she belongs.' Yet, on the left side the side I was holding Nena I hear the little angel 'there is no need for anymore violence in front of Nena not when you can help it.' Looking into her hazel eyes I reel in the ratchet grab a hatchet attitude until I'm calm enough to put this bitch in her place.

"Who are you talking to?" I ask in the calmest voice I could manage at the time. Knowing that shes probably just stressed from the giant move. Though she did want a fresh start all she ever knew was Crenshaw and it was hard for her to finally open up to me about it before moving. She kept creeping around me until she finally broke down the night before the move. The silly duck. My thoughts already beginning to calm me down, and though I tried my best considering how everyone in the hallway paled I think I did a pretty horrible job.

"Sissy I wanted the master bedroom." She said in her high pitched guilty voice changing her attitude quick and taking a few steps back while ducking her head down in submission. Although, her spoiled ass still dares asking me for the master bedroom after showing me that type of disrespect. Dont do it.....dont do it.

"Go to your room." Before turning to Nena not sparing a glance at the young girl who ran into the room she most definitely deserved acting like that. Nena was looking at me with amazement "Your like a Afro-Mexican black widow mama." Damn right and dont you forget it bebe kissing her forehead to thank her for the compliment. I look up and see no one around.

Hm.

I need to go check on Cesar and find out when Cerberus will arrive. Walking down on the dark wood floors and through the grey walls of the house. Listening to Nena's talk of the latest episode of teen titans, I realize I have everything I could have ever wanted in my life. My sisters all well and happy, my brothers out living whatever lives they want at the time...but I still feel so empty a very dark place in my mind said, its voice like a whisper.....always like a whisper when I have Nena in my arms.

Passing through the long hallway connecting the front and back doors I entered the kitchen to see.....no one there? Alright where these putas at? Turning around I see the worker that I saved earlier from the fire breathing dragon, behind me looking like he wanted to say something, with the way he was nervously posted up. His handsome face down casted as if I'd castrate him if he spoke something wrong. Admittedly something I have done before but not without proper cause. I seriously haven't been around people this scared of someone whose holding a three year old in their arms.

"T-THANK YOU!!!" He screams out at the top of his lungs in my kitchen. Hm. Looking down at Nena I see her giving the cutest confused look with her head cocked to the side. So I unconsciously adapted the same bewildered position looking back up to the mover.

"Are you okay?" I asked quietly. Scared he was going to faint at any givin moment. Looking at the way his chest heaved up and down from what I would assume is fear. My hermano would've had everyone he sent drug tested before sending them here to help move after what happened last time. Also knowing they were all my brothers trained people I continue to look at him. 'Maybe he's just nervous' I tell myself still reaching down to grab the gun on my waist discreetly.

"No-no one has ever saved me before." He nervously stated looking down at the ground like I kicked his puppy. He looks young but a couple of years maybe like 17 or 18. He honestly looks like someone whose been drastically hurt recently by the real world. I think I can get a good story out of him maybe a good friendship? Still staring at him with a neutral look in my eyes.

"Walk with me."I said walking down the hallway in search of my lost sisters and puppo. I find them in the Med room. Smoking weed out of two of the bongs.

The workers did a great job putting everything away as fast as possible. Everything in the main house was done I'm assuming they working on the kitchen now by the sound of it.

I spot eyebrow lord all bandaged up leaning against one of the bean bag chairs with Liyah in some shorts and a baggie shirt with her dreads up in a bun. Cesar also has a new all black outfit with a tee and long pants and his golden chain. I see them awfully close to one another. Walking inside and motioning for the worker to close and relax by the door.

"Ooh what's going on in here?" I say in a playful sexy voice before placing Nena down who automatically goes to the fish tank to see if there were any fish in there yet. Once she finds out that there is just water in there she goes off to explore. Shouting with joy once she spotted the giant black Pres canary Cane Corso mix. Who was more than happy to cover her face full of doggy kisses. Clearly missing his little hooman despite only being apart for a full 24 hours. Turning away from her, he takes off to play chase with her somewhere in the house. Walking over to Juju, I take a seat next to her on the same bean bag basically in her lap, hitting the bong when she comes up for air.

Looking over I see that my sister has seriously put a claim down on Cesar one that she knows that everyone will respect. Especially Juju and I considering how we always liked older men.

I have to admit though, Liyah has that boy hypnotized with the way hes looking at her. Though when I look at her she is just as captivated in him something she will try to deny later on. Turning my head to Juju after being tired of watching them eye rape each other I see that she has come to the same conclusion I have. Smiling and getting her attention I start making kissy faces.

Maybe people might think I'm making too light of the situation with how young all of us are but, what can I say if your old enough to fully carry out a blood mission your old enough to fuck, smoke, and swallow whatever you want in my book.

Grabbing my phone I look to see the numbers 18:00 blaring at me from the screen and no messages. "Come cook with me." I said to Juju. She's not doing anything anyway. Knowing she will follow me I head into the kitchen. Nodding to the worker to follow before I fully leave the room.

"Chica she looks in love." Juju said with a giant smile causing one to spread on my lips as well.

"I know I've never seen her like this." I said going in to the fridge to pull out the chicken I brought from the store. "It's good for her. She's smart enough not to fall in love at first sight though. Let's take them out somewhere tonight so they could go on a date!" Juju says enthusiastically. Before leaning on the kitchen counter.

"Juju it's only been a few hours calm down." I said laughing "Plus the poor boy just got patched up." I continued.

"You're right sissy." Juju said nodding her head as if I made the discovery of the century "We'll do it tomorrow!"

#oscar diaz #spooky #on my block #netflix #gangs #girls who do drugs #fights #fanfic #santos #cesar diaz #Spotify

[nastymeowmeow]

I feel really unfocused today. Like all the noise in my head is so random. Like all 5 of my brain cells are talking, but not to each other. They're just talking into the open and all of the noise is just ricocheting around in my poor little brain.

Here's just a bunch of word vomit.

I want to do chores and clean. I have laundry to hang, dishes to wash, more things to throw away, and floors to sweep. Maybe even the garage to tidy up? I don't know. I need a change in scenery at home.

I just noticed that I do a lot of random things out of habit. I have to have the volume in multiples of 5. I crack my window of my car if I leave my keys in it. I eat my food one food group at a time, saving my favorite for last. Whenever I color I like to have my art supplies organized in rainbow order, or if it is grayscale I organize by shade. If one nail breaks, all my nails get cut down to the same length. When I listen to music I listen to each individual instrument and the lyrics and the bass and tempo separately and appreciate them all individually. Before I get out of bed, I play a dress up game in my head to choose my outfit for the day. I have a poor memory so rewatching movies is always fun for me because I get surprised or entertained the same every time I rewatch it. I have to know what time it is at all times or I get anxious beyond control.

I'm still angry at the world. I've been doing some allegedly illegal things at my own risk. I won't say what I'm doing because getting caught would turn my world upside down. I should stop, but I don't really fucking care right now? I also know I'm not taking a healthy approach to my overall health and mental health, but again. I don't really care. I'm taking shortcuts to better my life because I'm fucking tired of being a good noodle. I am not hurting anyone with my alleged actions, only potentially myself.

I need to empty the room I made for us to be able to have some kink dot com level playtime. It's never going to be used. Those toys are not fun for solo play. It's just wasted space and a constant reminder that I'm a fucking idiot who does too much for the people I love and lust.

I could be drowning in pussy. I could have 100 girlfriends. I could be getting laid and sleeping on tig ol bitties every night if I wanted to, but I'm still fucking stuck on her. I can't even justify a rebound because it just makes me sad. It's so empty and heartless. It's not my style.

What do I do with this giant fucking Peep? His name is Peepcasso. She bought him for me impulsively one random night at Walmart when she was buying ingredients to make me the forbidden french toast. It was an abomination, and it was probably actually really bad, but I liked it because she made it for me. Now I have this giant fucking stuffed bunny marshmallow in my bed. I don't want to give him to Ruby because I'm selfish, but I don't want to throw him away because not only is that ecologically rude, but I'm still attached to him. How pathetic.

I dreamed about fighting again last night. I dreamed some guy was disrespecting his girlfriend in front of me and I choked him out while digging my fingers into his pressure points. I was disturbingly excited about doing it. He tapped out and I let him go and warned him to watch his attitude or I wouldn't be as nice next time. Then he went and did a disrespect and I punched him square in the jaw and knocked him on his ass. Then I woke up. I don't know why my subconscious wants to fight someone so badly. I hope going to the dessert gives me some peace this weekend.

I won't have internet next month, and I'm cool with that. My soul is so vintage I still use a VCR. I have a massive collection of Disney movies, and I still have my PS3 that I watch DVD's and Blu-Rays on. I don't really need internet at home. I have video games that I can play offline. I have movies. I have arts and crafts. I have my yard and garden. I have chores. I have this blanket to crochet. I'm cool without the internet at home. Ruby will be such an oddball telling her classmates that her favorite movies are old school Disney movies.

I finally bullied St. Luke's to find me a fucking therapist but they couldn't get me in until the beginning of July. That's a little more than two months away. That's a long time to go without psychotherapy when I'm in this state of mind, but I've survived this long. What's another two months?

I'm still in the mood to shut everyone out, throw everything away, and just hide from the world. I've already started on throwing everything away. Life is so complicated. Why does my house also have to have so many complicated things? Why do I have to have so many options? I don't want to have 500 hobbies. Even if I'm good at all of them, I don't want to be surrounded in unfinished projects. Dead dreams and aspirations. Unused supplies. I hate it. I want to do nothing but art but I don't have time. I just want to get rid of all of it. I've told people that my art is part of my soul, and maybe it feels a little bit like I'm throwing pieces of my soul away, but... I like it. It feels good. It feels good to be a little bit empty.

I'm trying really hard not to push everyone away though. I know if I didn't have everyone in my life keeping me in check, I'd be doing a lot worse... I just don't have the energy to be a good friend right now. I have nothing to give back. I just don't want to be around people lately... but I'm forcing myself to be.

I have a Bar Bingo night planned with Weston. I am going to Shasta's apartment to eat and maybe play Pokemon with Junior. I am going to the desert with Trey to destroy some glass. I am meeting up with Ethan this weekend to exchange late birthday gifts. I am taking Amber and Remie out to my favorite Chinese restaurant this weekend so we can have foodgasms. I am making plans to visit a new friend for an art day. I am going to go to a Magic draft night when Ruby is out of town. I don't want to do any of these things, but I know if I let myself push everyone away and I lock myself in my tower, these heathens that I call my brain cells will fucking murder me.

#journaling #journal #blog #blogging #depressing #depression #bipolardisorder #bipolar #mentalhealthsupport #mentalhealthawareness #mentalhealth

[marica-ya]

A local feminist organization that helps women with legal services messaged my business to request christmas catering and I am thrilled! But also very tired. But also really happy to make a delicious meal for them. I'm making roasted buttermilk chicken, tilapia in coconut, passionfruit, and tangerine sauce, bourguignon-masala tofu and mushroom stew, coconut rice, lemongrass rice, pear and lemon ricotta salad with a special local honey made by meliponida bees... And for dessert a cocoa butter pistachio crumble, lemon curd, and lavender vanilla whipped cream... The cream I got from the regenerative farm is simply amazing. I cannot believe it's so good, I wish I would have gotten three jars of it.

I'm gonna be cooking most of tha day lol. Then tomorrow is being a lil waterbag in bed day, then friday will be another session for the cooking classes for people with depression + christmas dinner at mine own house. We were gonna throw a bday party with my sis on thursday but we got new covid prevention mandates and parties are forbidden. My sister was really disappointed, this is our last 20s birthday! And the theme for the party was really cool. She asked her guests to bring a poem, comic, or short story of what growing up means to them. I was gonna bartend doing my cocktails and La Suerte but you know, global pandemic.

Tbh I actually wanted to go to Mindo for my birthday and just be in nature and meditate and eat at Cuyana. I'm not sure if I'll be able to do it because my dad doesn't understand what medical rest means for OCD episodes.

I saw my psychiatrist yesterday and I'm so fucking grateful and amazed I found her. I told her how I've been doing and that I needed a work note since I had missed two days recovering from the anxiety crisis on saturday and she gave me the week off. I can't believe I found a doctor that understands psychosis as a the complex phenomenon it is rather than seeing it as a loss of sanity plain and simple. I am so grateful that I can talk about language and symbolism and frequencies with her and she Gets it. Can you believe it. A psychiatrist who understands psychosis in a way that isn't erasing and frustratingly simple. And who will give me a week off to take it easy.

Anyways, when I started cooking yesterday for today's catering, my dad asked me if I wasn't supposed to be on bed rest. I was like ? I think you should talk to my psychiatrist because getting a week off work to prevent worsening symptoms after a mini anxiety crisis and "resting" does not mean wasting away in your bed like a sick victorian child. Like sometimes it does but in my case that would not help. Then he said I was just picking things that were convenient for me and now I'm wondering if he's right. Maybe I shouldn't be working... I mean, at least not this much. But I'm going to have thursday, saturday, and sunday off... I don't know, I definitely feel I should relax a little bit. However I already committed to this dinner and cannot back out. Today is a food day which also means a valuable lessons day. I'm gonna try and get some sleep before starting the day officially.

#aqui hablando #islo #food

[potions-and-potters]

The tags on your newest snack post were wild. What a roller coaster of emotions. Any chance we get to hear the story involving mashed potatoes and a bed that was not even yours? I'm intrigued. ~Sleepy Anon

Lol

It’s a long story and is probs less funny than is awful. Here is shorter version:

When I was in middle school we had this trip. It was just a long weekend, but it was a traditional trip. Everyone who went to my school district knew about it. It was legendary. It was to this camp. No idea where. Basically, we packed our bags and went off to learn about nature, recycling, sharing, waste, etc. We weren’t allowed technology and we’d be sleeping in cabins (separated boys and girls)

Here is the thing to know about me when I was this age:

I had one best friend, who was also my only friend, and wasn’t going on the trip at the same time as me. It was a big school, so certain wings of the school would go one week and the other the next and we weren’t in the same wing. 

I was bullied a lot. Badly. Like Severus ain’t got nothing on me, son.

I was very very very self-conscious and had hella bad untreated anxiety and depression.

I learnt from experience that telling teachers about bullying did jack shit to help it, but did make it 500000000000 x worse.

I was really looking forward to this trip, but was fucking terrified of being humiliated by the others students.

I was terrified of getting in trouble because I had brought my phone with me even though we were forbidden to do so. My parents had forced me to take it in case, and also I felt safer with it knowing my mom was a phone call away.

I had a huge fear of teachers and getting in trouble. No idea what I thought they’d do. But I was always good. 

So, after driving for, what to my 11-year-old self, felt like forever and being left alone or bullied the entire way, we finally arrived. Here is why it was awful and traumatic:

I had to sleep in a bunk bed with the other girls in my classes that made their entire lives about making mine utter hell. Like I cried myself to sleep every night and begged my mom every morning not to send me to school or transfer me to another one or send me to boarding school in Switzerland (another story).  

I put NOTHING past these girls. They were 11-year-old MONSTERS. They didn’t want to just see me crying. They wanted to break me. They wanted me to utterly and completely break down. They wanted blood. When I say these were the worst years of my life, I mean it. Honestly, I’m genuinely surprised I can share this story because due to those monsters and the psychological survival mechanism of repression, I don’t remember much of these years. At all.

So, just having to be there was awful. I couldn’t sleep. Not just because those assholes talked and giggled all damn night, but because I was scared of letting my guard down. I also had to make my bed and I had a stuffed animal (not the usual one I slept with because NO WAY would I risk bringing it there with them). I tried hiding it all the time. Like a freaking spy mission so they wouldn’t see it. 

There was one girl that wasn’t absolutely horrid to me. She used me and I knew it but at that point, someone who openly used me but would be decent to me was better than nothing. None of them were her friend either, so she basically “let” me hang out with her so she had company. She also made me make her bed. Like verge of tears and whining until I did it. To make sure the others didn’t pick up on it and use it against me (also didn’t want them to start targeting her because what asshole is okay with someone else being bullied?), I did it. Too bad right after I got made fun of like hell by the others. 

I was terrified of going to the bathroom. I was scared they’d like somehow open the door or somehow figure out how to make fun of me for peeing like a normal damn person. They had also all snuck their phones in, so I was also absolutely terrified they’d stand on the toilet and take a photo of me sitting there trying to pee in peace and then pass it around the school.

Then there was showering. Oh my god. Me being naked at ANY POINT IN TIME with them there? The showers were already a little too cabin-y for me anyway, as in there was like a shower head and a door that wasn’t exactly completely concealed. And I had to shower there. Where they might peek to laugh at me for whatever reason. Maybe even just to laugh to make me think they were laughing at something about me. They were cruel and manipulative. I wouldn’t have put it past them. So yeah. Terrified. Also, showers were timed. 5 minutes MAX. Any longer and the water turned ice old and then off.

I came out one night and they were all acting… well they were ignoring me. I had walked out the bathroom from brushing my teeth and it had been a whole half hour at least that they’d said anything to me… and they ignored me? I immediately went to my bed. My stuffed animal was gone. I asked for it. They laughed. I told them it wasn’t funny. That I wanted it back. Please. Stop. It isn’t funny. Just give it back and leave me alone. Please. They laughed. I checked every bunk. They stuffed it under the mattress of the last top bunk in the very very back. Then bullied me for being upset.

This was like nightly.

The days were boring and spent alone. Writing in notebooks. Listening to teachers. Dealing with bullying. The usual except we walked through the woods.

Meals were absolutely horrific. This is the waste part. It was basically child abuse. I mean even as a kid I knew it was wrong, but the older I get the more angry I get that it happened. My parents, when I told them when I returned, were FURIOUS and said it was a good thing it didn’t happen to me (it did).

There was a competition. Because the camp was to teach us about nature and waste, we were to have no leftovers. That meant you only took what you could eat. Nothing more. The table with the least leftovers won. In the middle of the table was a tube thing with measuring lines where you dumped the leftovers. The thing is, you also didn’t get to eat anything other than your 3 meals a day. No snacks. After spending the ENTIRE day (from like dawn to dusk) running around outside and doing stuff, you’re STARVING. Everyone is. And super cold because it was freaking late Autumn and wet as fuck so we all sat on wet leaves if we sat at all so you just want to fill yourself with hot food at the end of the day. But you can’t take more than you can eat. This sucked for me because I was so scared of getting in trouble for wasting food, but so hungry, but couldn’t get small amount then more if I wanted to because I was scared of getting bullied for it. So I went hungry.

This girl that was sat at my table though. She didn’t think about it one night. She was hungry. So she put food on her plate and she ate. Then, the end of the meal was coming up. Each table had one of the people from the camp thing sitting there to teach us more facts. She saw that this girl had food on her plate. She wasn’t happy and wasn’t about to lose. The girl said she was full and couldn’t eat anymore. She said she was sorry we wouldn’t win. All the kids said it was okay because hey we get it. Also, it’s just a competion. And one night. Don’t force yourself.

The camp lady didn’t agree. She forced the girl to eat it. The girl tried. She really did. But she couldn’t. Nobody was allowed to help her. The lady forced her to mash her muffin, mash potatoes, some kind of meat I can’t remember, eggs, and some kind of dessert together into a disgusting thick mixture. Then, she forced her to spoon it in her mouth and swallow. Spoonful by spoonful until it was gone. The girl was crying at the end. Ready to vomit. We all watched on in horror. 

We didn’t even win.

After four days of this, we came home. I was exhausted, starving, gross, and upset. The ONLY thing I wanted was to shower, eat something, and sleep. But no. With the WORST TIMING EVER this family that my family was friends with came over as well as our neighbors. It was like a little party. Worse, my mom was babysitting this four year old kid that I swear at times turned into an actual demon child. Well, already at the breaking point, this kid pushed. Hard. And I cracked. Bad. I ended up screaming at her to behave and basically stop being a bitch (but nicer) as she hid in the corner glaring at me, in front of everyone. It was… not a good look. 

So yeah. All that added up to condition me to see waste= BAD NO DO NOT DO NO NO BAD SO VERY BAD

Middle school sucked.

#me #about me #story time #i sound pathetic #i know #but that shit fucks you up #oh wait IT WAS OREOS SHE HAD FOR DESSERT #oh maybe that's why i don't like them #like #subconsciously you know #huh #wasting food and traumatic memories #fucking child abuse