cause i have more thoughts but... food

If I Had A Star (Lin x Reader)

Word Count: 9,636 (YIKES)

Warnings: swears, little nsfw


Summary: a series of short stories to your forever. 

(each bolded word starts a new short story, the horizontal lines also divide each story.)

Dedicated to:

@hamilton-noodles Jo is a blessing to this earth. THE MOST eloquent person I have ever come across. I personally give this story to her, and all the stars in the sky. I want to publicly thank her for being one of the best people I have ever met (PERIOD) I love her so much and she is my bestest of the best friends. 

@adolescenthowell RACHAEL was my first friend on this blog and I want to thank her for reading my shit, facetiming me when I need motivation to write, and most importantly sticking by me. She is so talented and I love her. 

@fanfrickinhamiltasticimagines Sophie is the kindest human being alive. I want to give her all my thanks for proof reading for me. She is an amazing human being and so so out of this world talented. Love ya girl!

@whatdimissmotherfuckers Ruby for being such an adorable little bean. She’s the most giving yet still sassy person ever and I admire her self confidence. I hope you keep doing you babe. Her art and writing is the BESTEST. AND I ALSO LOVE HER DEARLY.

Not requested


If life had worked out perfectly; you would have never met him. You took the wrong train going downtown. Stupid, you knew, but being a first time New Yorker was hard. You wandered the streets aimlessly until you found a subway station late at night, hoping and praying you’d be able to find your way back home, your phone having died hours ago. You sat on a bench tapping your foot anxiously waiting for your train going up when a subway car rattled its way to your station. You were passing the doors when you saw a man runselfning down the length of the aisles in the subway car, singing loudly with a pair of headphones on. He didn’t notice you immediately, but when his eyes finally fell on you he practically tore off his headphones and stopped dead in his tracks. You gave him an awkward smile before he blushed red and returned one.

“Can you help me with directions?”

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when I was younger I wanted to wear makeup like this but was so self conscious and hyper aware of what other people thought of me cause one I’m black 2 I’m fat 3 in tall as hale which makes me hella visible already. I just wanted to hide

but years passed and more and more I felt tired of not being myself and I said fuck it imma wear what I want now I go food shopping w this makeup on lmfaooo

anyways have fun w your makeup don’t listen to anyone else cause you’ll be missing out

Picture Perfect - Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester

Title: Picture Perfect

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3,652

Warnings: None

Prompt: I got it! Can you do a fic where Sam dies while (Y/N) is pregnant with his child and so Dean helps her raise the child and they live the apple pie life and right when Dean wants to propose to (Y/N), Sam returns to life & ANGST. Please and thank you

“Mary!” Dean shouted “Breakfast’s ready, come on!” he said loud enough, hoping the little girl was going to hear him.

“Yes daddy!” she said in her childlike voice as she ran down the stairs. Her brown curls were bouncing as her green eyes sparkled with happiness the moment she spotted the food that lay on the table.

“Pie!” she exclaimed and the man chuckled at the girl.

“Yes princess!” he placed the last pancake on the place and put the frying pan away. He leaned down and picked her up, giving her a big kiss on the cheek as the little girl giggled at him.

“And it’s your favorite!” he said with a big grin and she squealed.

“Apple pie!”

“-Which you are not going to have for breakfast.” you said with a strict – but loving – mom look.

“What?” she pouted “Why?”

“Sweetheart.” you said softly, taking her from Dean’s arms “Pie is not right for breakfast and you know it. We’ve said you can have pie whenever you want to- as a treat. You will have to eat your meal first.” you said, tucking a few brown curls behind her ear.

“But daddy eats pie all the time- even for breakfast and you let him. Why can’t I?” the four-year-old gave you those puppy eyes that could actually do you anything they wanted.

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Slipped my mind

Originally posted by stylesinthewild

Anonymous asked: #37??? (’Welcome to fatherhood’)

Anonymous asked: Please could you do 99 and make it angsty if possible? Thank you! X (How could you forget your son’s birthday?)

Anonymous asked: “Welcome back. Now fucking help me.” !!

I combined all three of these and it turned into a full blown one shot.

Also special shoutout to @harryimaginedstories. She knows. 

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i was scrolling through tumblr and i came across a post analysing dan’s phanfic ‘The Urge’ (i reblogged the post, go to or just search 'the urge’ if you’re on mobile, i HIGHLY recommend, it showed me a whole other, deeper side of the fic). the first time i heard it i was amazed by dan’s poetic descriptions and just how much effort he put into that story. 'The Urge’ is basically dan’s biggest fear - phil dying. but he captured everything so well and each and every word just fits. (go read the analysis for many more secret gems)  

i believe dan is a type of person who likes to hold on to memories. after all, he is the one who suggested both tabinof and tatinof so that dan and phil can provide us, their audience, some proof, evidence or just a physical thing to hold on to if the internet highly fucks up and somehow deletes youtube or whatever. but i feel like it means a lot to dan as well when we’re talking about memories. it proves to him that what he and phil have created is real. personally, if i was in dan’s shoes i would want something to remember their whole little world by as well. 

dan has a way with words. he speaks very eloquently and that is something we have experienced many times in his liveshows. (but at the same time he is the guy who burned pasta in university cause he didn’t know he had to put water, bought bird food for a snack and many more mishaps, he amazes me tbh). i wouldn’t be suprised at all if he has journals and notebooks and notes that are filled with his thoughts, goals and ideas. he seems to be the type of person that loves expressing themselves and does that because it’s therapeutic, and what’s better than writing everything down and letting your words swim on paper? (this is just one more dan thing that i can relate to. i love writing. i have been keeping a diary/journal/whatever for years now and i just started another one. i rant on paper and write letters i’ll never send. i try to capture my memories - why? for the same reason. i want to make sure it’s real and i don’t somehow forget it.) 

(if it wasn’t obvious by now) i love dan. he really inspires me in a ton of ways and hearing his thoughts and opinions are my favourite parts of his liveshows (not to mention his voice is very soothing). that’s why i would love to hear more. 

just imagine it - a whole proper book. a novel written by him. i’d praise the shit out of that on my bookshelf. i just believe it would be so interesting to see a whole another world stitched by dan. characters, plot, dilemmas, scenery (with his descriptive writing skills? sign me up) and so much more. it doesn’t even have to be a fiction book. i’d just love to read more of his general opinions.

we don’t really have much insight into dan’s (or phil’s) aspirations outside of youtube. does dan want to write? does phil want to make his own film? who knows? all i’m wondering is if dan ever thought about writing a book of his own. i’m really curious about that.

-flops over and melts into the floor-


“Thursday” more like “Sunday” Art Challange: I chose the prompt of favorite food. 

I chose waffles cause I always think about having it with friends, which I thought would be great start to the art challenges ahead :3 

Waffles + Berry Creme + Berries + Maple Syrup = YUM

I am the new addition to the awesome group with: @chikao-art , @sheilkuroi , @crimson-chains , @kaizuart Please check out there art and be amazed :3 

prompt sent in by @elenitamiaw. I hope you like it :)


Just let me Love You

**this is suuuper self-indulgent. forgive me. LOL

“Ohmygod, hyung! Sorry, I’m late. Jongin hyung just… Wait, where is everybody?” Jimin asked belatedly, as he enetered the private dining Yoongi reserved for their group’s dinner.

Yoongi just replied with a chuckle, gulping down the shot of soju he had in his hands, not even looking at JImin. “Dispersed for various reasons.”

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t think the party would end this early. I mean, it’s only 2am,” Jimin said apologetically as he sat down on one of the pillows on the floor. “It’s just Taemin-hyung prepared a viewing party for Serendipity’s release and…”

“Ahhhh…” Yoongi cut him off. “I should’ve known other people would have the same idea.”

“You… This was for me?” Jimin asked, shock evident on his face.

Yoongi waved his arm to point towards a large projector screen set-up, taking another shot of soju right after.

“I… Hyung. I’m sorry. I didn’t…” Jimin said, moving a seat closer to Yoongi.

“Yeah… well. It wasn’t exactly your fault. I just thought it would be nice to have dinner and view your first solo MV together then watch the whole internet blow-up about it right after. I should’ve said something,” he let out another deep chuckle, still not looking at the younger man beside him. “Surpise!” Yoongi said, his tone coated with sarcasm, as he finally loooked at JImin.


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Week Five: Mrs Fitz

The premise: What if Claire had conceived on her wedding night with Jamie?

You can find previous weeks/chapters here.

July 6th, 1743; Claire’s Surgery at Castle Leoch.

My dungeon of a surgery had found another use while I was away, but Mrs Fitz seemed eager for me to return to my duties and cheerfully gave me back my space. She and her small regiment of young women had just finished toting the last of the impedimenta away, leaving me in blissful solitude. The bustle of the kitchens could be heard thru the open doorway and I moved to shut it.

This done, I plodded back to my work table and sat down heavily on the stool.

Why was I so tired?

Traveling about the Scottish Highlands had certainly been taxing to an extent, but we’d returned to Leoch four days ago and I’d had ample time to catch up on sleep. Even if I hadn’t, I was used to operating on minimal sleep for days at a time. I thought I might even thrive on it. A few hours here and there were more than enough to carry me thru the day.

Propping my head in my hands, I slid my eyes shut and tried to pinpoint the cause.

Maybe I had misdiagnosed my nervous stomach.

I hadn’t been ill enough for it to have been full-on food poisoning and no one else fell ill. Even if something I ate had caused the stomach upset four days ago, it would be long out of my system by now.

I mentally shook my head; it wasn’t that.

I certainly could have contracted a virus from the many people I came into contact with in the last week. The flu would explain the vomiting, as well as my residual lack of energy, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the overwhelming feeling of fatigue had started before I had gotten sick.

Fatigue. Nausea. Tender breasts.

No. I can’t be.

Bolting out of my seat, I frantically dug thru the drawer where I kept my daily log. I hadn’t written in it very faithfully, especially while I was on the road, but it was the closest thing I had to a calendar.

My heart raced as I flipped back thru the pages.

I had my courses while traveling, hadn’t I?

I found the ones pertaining to rent collecting and my subsequent marriage, but they had no mention of my monthly visitor.

Hadn’t I?

May 29th, 1743 - Monthly begins.

June 2nd, 1743 - Left Castle Leoch at daybreak. 

I frantically flipped to an empty page and hastily sketched out the days, not wanting to entrust this to mental calculation.

Four weeks would be…

Last week.

It should have started the twenty-sixth of June and it was now the sixth of July, making me ten days late.

I’m never late.

The world seemed to spin around me as I slid against the wall to the floor, curling myself into a tight ball. My heart screamed that I couldn’t be pregnant, that I was simply late and stressed, but the incessant stream of logic in my mind told me that pregnancy was the most probable cause.

I’m pregnant. I’m going to have a baby.

It was at this very moment that the door swung open and Mrs Fitz’s cheery voice greeted me from the entryway, shattering the fragile moment into a hundred different pieces of fear and uncertainty.

“I found ye a wee bit o’–” she stopped suddenly as she came around the corner, “Ach, Claire! Whatever’s the matter, lass?”

Should I tell her? It was really Jamie’s news to hear first.

The very thought of telling Jamie I was pregnant with his child sent me scrambling across the floor in search of something to vomit in. I reached the bucket in time to turn away from Mrs Fitz as I retched. Tears fell from my cheeks, mingling with my stomach contents at the bottom of the bucket.

I heard Mrs Fitz softly pad across the room behind me before she lowered herself to the floor and began to rub soothing circles between my shoulder blades, “Ye dinna have to say a word, lass, I ken just wha’ yer feelin’.”

Oh, she does, does she? She KENS what it feels like to be pregnant by a man who you do not love? To be separated from the one you do?

I must have muttered aloud, for she cheerfully replied, “Oh, aye. I was sick as a dog wi’ all o’ my bairns. Dinna fash, it doesna last forever.”

Wiping my mouth on the hem of my apron, I pushed the bucket aside. Mrs Fitz smiled at me as she reassuringly patted my arm. I made no attempt to smile in return, but instead petitioned, “You won’t speak a word of this, will you?”

“‘Tis yer news to tell, lass.” She waved away my concern, then added, “Jamie must be proud as a peacock, aye?”

Unable to meet her gaze, I answered, “He doesn’t know. Not yet, I mean.”

She took my face in her worn, wrinkled hands and waited to speak until I looked up at her.  Her voice was gentle, without a hint of reprimand. “‘Tis a noble an’ holy thing to bear yer husband’s child, lass, no’ a thing to be ashamed of. Ye’ve given Jamie a great blessing.”

“But I don’t love him,” my throat tightened around the words, unable to fully explain myself. “I can’t, I mean, I still…”

Jamie knew it, but I wasn’t sure that I had ever actually said it out loud.

I still loved Frank.

I gave my body freely to Jamie, my time, my energy, but I could not give him my heart, for it belonged to another.

Her smile wobbled as her eyes grew misty, “I was married twice, myself, lass, an’ I didna love my second husband when we wed. ‘Twas a match arranged by the Laird an’ no’ wha’ I wished, but I did grow to love him in my own way. He was a good man, as is yer Jamie.”

Jamie was a good man. He had promised me the protection of his body and name, a vow he had kept when I put to the test. I knew that, heedless of the cost, he would do whatever it took to ensure that I was safe and cared for.

It wasn’t Jamie’s integrity that I was concerned about, it was what would happen next.

“I ken ye fear wha’ the morrow may bring, but let it be as it may. Dinna waste these precious days of carrying yer bairn by worryin’ over what ye canna change,” Mrs Fitz seemed to read my mind.

Her words rang in my ears like a resounding bell, a single phrase reverberating higher than the rest.

Carrying my child.

It took two to create a child, yes, yet this baby would be mine. He or she would bear their father’s name and maybe his looks, but I would be the one to shelter them within me, to carry them beneath my heart, to give them life even if it cost me my own.

It was in this moment, this hush between the wise and the yearning, that I knew without a doubt that I would love them. Daughter or son, it didn’t matter. A baby of my very own to care for, a child to raise, a legacy to leave behind.

After assuring Mrs Fitz that I would be fine and triple checking that the door was bolted behind her, I lay in the bed that was tucked into the corner of my surgery, wrestling with my thoughts. My knees were pulled tight to my chest, my cheeks wet with tears.

Why now? The question circled around and around above my head. I had tried to get pregnant for seven long years, why now?

A conversation I had with Frank right before I left flickered thru my mind. We had been speaking of adoption, of caring for a child who had been orphaned in the war since it seemed we could not have one of our own.

His words haunted me, a cold, icy fist squeezing around my heart.

“I couldn’t feel properly towards a child that was not of my blood.”

What would Frank’s reaction to my return be if I was pregnant with another man’s child? Would he divorce me? Leave me and the child alone in the world? Would I be better off here, in the past with the father of my child, than in the future, shunned by the man that I loved? Or would he support us, all the while holding the shame of my infidelity over my head like a guillotine blade?

There were too many questions, too many scenarios of a future I could not predict.

“Jamie must be proud as a peacock.”

He would be. I knew he would be.

I didn’t doubt that his reaction to my news would be anything but joyful, but that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that I wasn’t.

I didn’t know exactly what I was, just at the moment, but joyful wasn’t it.

A loud pounding woke me some time later. The shadows stretched long and slender across the floor as I sat up and moved slowly towards the door.

“Sassenach?” A voice called between emphatic knocks.


I stopped dead in my tracks, unsure of what to do.

“Claire?” He was quickly becoming concerned, “Are ye alright?”

“Coming!” I called, but made no move to do so.

Do I tell him now? Today? Or should I wait until I’m absolutely sure?

You are sure, a little voice ridiculed me, you just don’t want to admit it.

“If ye dinna come to the door, Sassenach, I’ll–”

Visions of him knocking the door off it’s hinges propelled me forward, quickly letting him in before he gave the castle folk enough gossip-fodder to last until next year.

“Or you’ll what?” I quipped as I stared at his shirt front, trying desperately to act normal.

Jamie shrugged, mumbling something about regretting putting the bolt there in the first place. He shoved his left hand towards me, palm up, as he gestured vaguely to it with his right.

“I, ah, am in need of yer skills,” he supplied.

After leading him to the windows that lined the southern wall and turning his hand this way and that for several minutes, I looked up at him in confusion. “What am I looking for?”

“A sliver, just there.” A blush began at the base of his neck and slowly crept its way up to his ears, turning them a dull pink.

I had to bring his hand right up to my nose to find the speck he was talking about.

“This tiny thing?” I asked incredulously. How a fleck of wood that small made its way thru his thick calluses was beyond me and told him so. “How did you even notice it was there?”

He shifted from foot to foot, smiling slightly as he looked at the floor. “Oh aye, well…”

“You know, you don’t have to come up with an excuse to visit your wife.” I dropped his hand and crossed my arms as I felt a smile tug at the corner of my mouth, my voice dropping as I teased him. “You can just stop by to say you missed me.”

His head snapped up, a huge grin spreading across his face.

A good man, indeed.

July 9th, 1743; Castle Leoch

Morning sickness is a lie, I fumed as I heaved into my bucket for the third time today. If only it would bloody stay in the morning.

It was almost time for the evening meal and I had no appetite what so ever. In fact, the very thought of enduring another aromatic meal filled with haggis and neeps in the great hall made me gag.

The nagging voice came again, You have to tell him.

I shoved the thought aside as I rinsed out the bucket and placed it underneath my work table, hidden from view.

Out of sight, out of mind.
Conquer You - Chapter 1

I managed to finish the first chapter. I have a feeling it’s only the first of many to come. Only if you guys like it of course.


Thyra still couldn’t believe that she was back here. It had been almost ten years, but now she was home again, although this town was now barely recognizable as her home. It had grown so much and obviously become much richer as well. She wandered across the crowded market, amazed by how big it was. Merchants from all over the country had gathered here, offering food, textiles, jewelry and so much more. As a child she had often played between the booths and stolen sweets on a dare. She didn’t know how to feel about being back in Kattegat. This place brought back so many distant memories and feelings. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts as two riders caught her attention. They had almost reached the town but they were still riding fast. Maybe it meant nothing but she was still alarmed.

“Who are they?” She asked an old man who was selling furs and gestured into the direction of the two riders.

The man squinted against the sunlight. “It’s the princes.”

Without another word, Thyra took off running. Ubbe and Sigurd coming back surely meant trouble. She reached the great hall and slipped through a back door. She made her way to the throne and Lagertha raised an eyebrow at her obvious hurry. But before Thyra could open her mouth to explain, the door flew open and the two princes strode in. She eyed them curiously. She had wanted to catch a glimpse on them while they were in Hedeby, but Lagertha had given her the task to make sure that the warriors were ready to march to Kattegat before dawn.  She had known them as children but they were undoubtably men now.

“Where is out mother?” One of them demanded to know. Thyra supposed it was the older one, Ubbe.

“She is dead, Ubbe. I killed her.” Lagertha said, staying completely calm.

Although they must have expected something like that, Thyra could see the shock on their faces and couldn’t help but feel bad for them. She knew how it felt to lose a parent.

“Why?” Ubbe asked, his voice shaking just the tiniest bit.

The queen answered something but although she was standing right next to the throne Thyra felt as if the words were coming from far away. Memories had stared to flash before her eyes, memories of her own mother. She tried to blink them away but it didn’t work.

Her mother’s face was pale and covered with sweat. Thyra felt incredibly scared and helpless while she held her hand, but there was nothing else she could do. The door was opened and Lagertha entered to room, crouching down next to her. She gave Thyra a smile but her eyes were clouded with worry. “Promise me to care of my daughter.” Mother whispered and weakly reached for the other woman’s hand. “Promise me, Lagertha.” Lagertha nodded sadly and placed her other hand on Thyra’s shoulder. “I promise.” Her mother tried to smile but only looked like a painful grimace. Then she closed her eyes and her features softened.

Thyra angrily shook her head. This was not the time to become overwhelmed by her feelings. She came back to reality just in time to see Ubbe pull his axe from his belt and push his brother away from him. He turned and moved towards the queen. One of her guards stepped between them immediately. Ubbe let him come close, then turned to the side and in the same fluid motion buried the axe in the man’s hip. It wasn’t a deadly wound but the guard went to the ground. The next one followed him just seconds later. Thyra curiously watched what was happening in front of her. She could see that the prince was a skilled warrior, his movements were forceful and precise and the warrior inside her was eager to test her skills against him. Her hand went to the handle of her sword, but Lagertha stopped her with a gesture.

“That won’t be necessary.”

Thyra grit her teeth but obeyed.

Ubbe was now stopped by several guards forming a shieldwall. Although he fought bravely and had already sent many warriors to the ground, it seemed to Thyra as if he was holding back, as if he did not want to actually kill anyone. Now that he had to face half a dozen opponents at once, it didn’t take long until they had him pinned to the ground and disarmed. He growled at Lagertha as she ordered the guards to bring him and his brother into a guarded hut. Thyra knew that they would be enemies but she couldn’t help but admire his courage.

Everyone was quiet at the dinner table. Although she hadn’t said anything about it and probably never would, Thyra knew that Lagertha was still shaken by Ubbe’s reaction. She had seen it in her eyes when the guards had lead the princes away. Thyra knew that Lagertha had done what she thought she had to and she would never doubt her queen’s decisions but she wondered if it had been the right move, not for Kattegat but for Lagertha. It surely wasn’t easy for her to be hated by the sons of Ragnar. They were after all the sons of the man she had loved, or still loved as some said.

“I don’t think Sigurd will cause us any trouble.” Astrid finally broke the silence.

“How do you know?” Thyra asked.

“I thought it would be helpful to find out a little more about them, so I talked to the slave girl who brings them their food.”

“You use her to spy on them?”

“If we want to keep control over the town, we have to do more than to play around with swords and axes, Thyra.” Astrid said in an important tone.

“You think that’s want I do all day? Play around?” Thyra hissed, feeling a rush of anger.

“Enough.” Lagertha interrupted, her voice sharp. “I’m tired of you two constantly being at each other’s throat.”

Thyra’s relationship with Astrid had always been a difficult one. The other woman was a couple of years older than her and even though she shared the bed with Lagertha, the queen had made Thyra her second in command, to much of Astrid’s dislike.

“We have to be careful with this information until we know if that slave girl is trustworthy.” Lagertha continued. “Did she tell you anything else?”

Astrid nodded. “Ubbe is still angry but Sigurd is calming him down. It looks like Sigurd’s relationship with his mother has not been the best one. I don’t think these two are a big thread right now, but Sigurd seems to be sure that Ivar will try to kill you. If he ever comes back that is.”

“Ivar?” Thrya was surprised. She had known the youngest son of Ragnar as a child. He had always been angry and cruel and she had even witnessed him killing another child once but she had never thought of the crippled prince as a real threat for them.

Astrid shrugged. “That’s what his brothers seem to believe, but I think we don’t have worry much about a cripple.”

“We should not underestimate him.” Lagertha decided. “From what I hear he knows how to use a weapon and is feared by many.”

Thyra was surprised by the queen’s words. She remembered Ivar as a selfish little brat who had always been under his mother’s wing. But it also made her curious to see what had become of him when he was now feared for his fighting skills.

A couple of days later everyone had gathered in the great hall. Thyra proudly stood next to the throne while Lagertha talked about her plans to build fortifications around the town. As the queen had ended her speech, everyone in the room stared to cheer, almost everyone. Ubbe and Sigurd were standing in the front row, arms crossed and staring up angrily at Lagertha. They still hadn’t accepted that she was their ruler now. Thyra wondered if it had been wise to allow them to move around the town freely. She had made sure that they were always followed by at least two shieldmaiden but now she wasn’t sure if that was enough. She got distracted from her thoughts when all of a sudden the crowd parted. She waited curiously and wondered what was about to happen.  Before she could see him, she heard him. It could only be Ivar. He dragged himself towards the throne, using small pikes to pull himself forward.

Thyra had heard that he had come back from England but she hadn’t met him yet. She had to admit that she was impressed with what she saw. Although he had to drag himself cross the floor, his movements were powerful and had a certain grace to them. His face was a mask of hate and his whole body seemed to be radiating a dark and threating atmosphere. And then there was his choice of weapons. These small pikes were different from a sword or an axe. With them you had to get real close to your opponent. They were made for killing on the shortest possible distance. All that combined made the prince a formidable sight. The spoiled little brat had grown into a handsome man, Thyra had to give him that.

“Welcome Ivar.” Lagertha greeted him as soon as he had pulled himself up on a stool.

“I’ve come here for justice.” He exclaimed boldly. “Everyone knows that you’ve killed my mother for no reason, except ambition. Therefore I demand justice.”

Ubbe stepped forward and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder to calm him down. But Ivar just shook it off. “Don’t touch me, coward.” He hissed.

Ubbe stepped away from him and the look of defeat on his face almost caused Thyra to smile. As Ivar turned back to Lagertha, she rose from her throne and went to stand in front of him.

“He’s not a coward.” She said. Her voice was sympathetic as she placed her hand on the young man’s shoulder in a motherly gesture. “But maybe he understands some things that you don’t.”

Thyra could see Ivar’s eyes darken with even more fury than before. “I understand everything perfectly. You murdered my mother in cold blood. I want revenge!” The queen pulled back her hand as if she had burnt it. “I challenge you to single combat!” Ivar continued, his voice clear and confident.

A murmur went through the crowd. Thyra’s fascination for the prince grew with every second. His impudence seemed to know no limits. How did he think this would work? Did he want to fight her sitting on a stool? Thyra knew well enough that fast movement was of great importance in sword fighting. Ivar would not even be able to take a step back when needed and Lagertha’s combat skills were almost legendary. And still there he was, confidence written all over his face. Was he really as good as he thought or just stupid?

“I refuse.” She heard Lagertha say.

For a second Thyra saw the surprise in Ivar’s eyes but then he fixated the queen with a dark glare. “You can’t refuse.”

“I refuse to fight you.” Lagertha repeated, raising her voice for everyone to hear.

“Why? Hmm?” Ivar wanted to know.

“I don’t want to kill you.”

An amused, yet evil grin spread on Ivar’s face. “Who says you would kill me?”

“I do.” The queen stated.

His smile did not fade as he nodded slowly. “Alright. Don’t fight me then. I don’t care just as long as you know that one day I will kill you, Lagertha. Your fate is fixed.”

A shiver went down Thyra’s spine at his words. She had no doubt he had meant every word he’d said and that he intended to act on them.

Ivar shot Lagertha one last threatening glare and turned to leave as his eyes met Thyra’s. He froze in mid-movement and they stared at each other. Thyra felt these incredible blue eyes bore into her and couldn’t help but stare back, completely caught. Beneath the anger that was still shining in his eyes there was something else now. Was it curiosity? Before she was able to define it any further, Ivar broke the contact and left the room without looking back.

Lagertha sat back on her throne, clearly shaken despite of her confident words and Thyra knew she had been mistaken. Ivar was dangerous, dangerous in a way his brothers never would be.

Your Biggest Fan (Part 2)

|| Jensen Ackles x Reader ||

Word Count: 1141

Warnings: language, Jensen being adorable (which def needs a warning).

Note from the Queen: Here’s Part 2! I hope you all like it! If you would like to be added to the tag list for this series, or any of my tag lists, please send me an ask! Thanks!

Series Summary: You are an up and coming mystery/suspense writer. The newest addition to your popular series was just released, which means never-ending book signings all over the country. When your overzealous agent lands you a signing in Vancouver, you meet a fan you never expected to have. And, as luck would have it, you are just as big of a fan of them as they are of you!

Beta: @waywardmoeyy

Your Biggest Fan Master List

Originally posted by dean-sam-winchesterbros

Jensen smiled down at his phone the moment his text message tone went off. He knew it was from you, it had to be. Or, at least he hoped it was.

But, just before he could read the message, his phone stared to ring. Jared Padalecki. “Hey, man. You’ll never guess what just happened.”

There was a short pause before Jared answered. “Did Misha egg your house again?” Jensen just laughed, his body lightly trembling with excitement.

“Ha, no, dude. I went to that book signing.”

Jared chuckled. “You mean those books you won’t put down? Man, I haven’t seen you without one of those for at least the last two months.” Jensen could almost hear Jared shaking his head at him from the other side of the phone. “So, you met the creepy ass author who lives in their mom’s basement?”

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this will be (an everlasting love) - 1

Pairing:  Hoseok x Reader
Genre: 80s!au drabble series, smut, fluff
Warnings: exhibitionism, road head, dirty talk kind of, praise kink? i guess
Word Count: 4k, is this considered a drabble? whatever lmao
Summary: On your 20th anniversary, Hoseok gifts you a cassette tape full of songs that each corresponds with a special memory from your relationship together.
[This is a part of a new drabble series based on my 80s!au oneshot called Blue Kiss. Although this could be read on its own if you just want to sin ;)]

Side 1, Track 4: Lay All Your Love On Me – ABBA

Don’t go wasting your emotion
Lay all your love on me
Don’t go sharing your devotion
Lay all your love on me

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Unlike most Hobbits, Bilbo did not care very much for the hard work of gardening. At most, he could grow a rather tasty tomato. That was enough of his interest in the matter. He enjoyed flowers and their ilk, of course, and that was why he’d kept a gardener around. 

It made for a lovely scene outside Bag End. One which he could enjoy by settling himself onto the bench, pipe in hand. Some days, the especially sunny ones, he’d snag a sunhat. It was a day like that, though the sun had begun setting its way down the horizon. He had the hat’s brim pulled down over his eyes. 

That sometimes kept passing neighbors and busybodies from bothering him, for they presumed he’d fallen asleep. 

Not always, though, as he heard the telltale sound of someone approaching. His ear twitched, somewhat muffled by the sunhat. Regardless he could recognize the footfalls as they closed in on him. Hobbits rarely made so much noise. 

And, also, unlike any Hobbit, he had a dwarf for a husband. 

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anonymous asked:

May i ask what the problem with feeding a snake in their enclosure is? i’ve recently seen some talkin it and it doesn’t make much sense to me. i myself do not own snakes nor have i ever, but i’m definitely an admirer

Hi there!

There are some schools of thought that suggest that feeding a snake in their enclosure promotes cage aggression or stronger feeding responses. There are also concerns that a snake may refuse food if they’re in too large a space or that they may accidentally ingest substrate, or that in their enclosure it may be more difficult to observe and confirm that they have successfully eaten.

I personally have not seen any evidence to suggest that enclosure feeding causes or contributes directly to cage aggression, but I also haven’t seen any evidence to suggest that feeding outside of the enclosure has any negative repercussions. 
I do feed my snakes in their enclosures, but it’s a personal choice to be determined by the keeper and either way has benefits and risks.

Snakes with appropriate enclosures that have adequate cover should not be insecure enough to refuse food and there are some precautions that can be taken to prevent substrate ingestion.
With my smaller snakes and those who are more likely to rub their prey into the substrate, I feed in areas of the enclosure that are without substrate, such as basking ledges, or on a wide shallow dish or in a deli cup, paper lunch bag, or small tub with the lid left off.
Most snakes acclimate quickly to understand that the cup/tub/bag means it is Food Time and they are more likely to accept alternative prey on the first offer because if it’s in the food place then it must be food.

TL;DR: In or out of the cage is fine, as long as you’re feeding your snakes.

Something New

Synopsis: A Shitty drabble with lots of fluffy shit about staying the night with josh.

Word Count: 872

Warnings: shitty wrighting

Just do it. just pick up the phone and call him, it’s not that big of a deal. If he says no, he says no. He’s my best friend, it’s fine. I tell myself, I take a deep breath and force myself to press the call button. I was just about to hang up when he picked up. “Josh?”
“Yeah? whats up?” I hear him say on the other side of the phone. i pause hearing the silence of the line.
“This is gonna sound so weird but, will you stay the night with me tonight?” I asked leaving a pregnant pause. “I mean I have coffee and I can cook  if you’re hungry but you don’t have to if you don’t-” I was cut off by his chuckle causing my cheeks heat up.
“I’d love to stay the night, and food sounds great.” he said trying to keep his chuckling quiet, “I’ll be over soon.”
 I quickly get to cooking and setting up my loveseat for a night of movies, decorating it with pillows and blankets, wanting everything to be perfect for Josh’s first time staying the night. “Fuck.” I whisper hearing his car pull up, “I thought I had more time.” I set our food on the coffee table, running back to my room to change into night shorts, and a tye dye t shirt I made with Josh ages ago, that is now riddled with holes, before running back down the hall. I peak my head out waving to catch his attention, I see him come around his car in his comfy garb. I stare for a little too long as he looks back at me I realize how creepy I must look, I clear my throat hoping to dismiss my inappropriate thoughts.
“uhm food is ready and the movie is queued up and ready to go whenever you are.” I called out to him.
“Oh alright cool.” He smiles at me, making his way inside, droping all his stuff by the door, to the loveseat plopping down causing me to chuckle. When I sit down, I end up unintentionally sitting as far away from him as possible, watching him play with the reclining buttons on my new couch making it go all the way back and then all the way up again, repeatedly. How fucking adorable can one boy be. “ I didn’t know they made automatic recliners.” I roll my eyes with a small smile, turning on the movie, reclining back myself.

The movie ended quickly but it didn’t really matter because we weren’t really paying much attention to it, Josh was too busy making bad puns, and I was to busy making fun of his bad puns until we both fell asleep.
When I woke up I felt a pair arms wrapped around me and I stiffened, before remembered the events from the night before. Naturally loving the feeling of the security and comfort I shut my eyes and relaxed back into his arms, pretending to still be asleep, Trying to keep my nerves and butterflies at bay. Not long after this, I feel him move bringing me closer to his chest rubbing soft circles on my arm, now holding me more than cuddling. It felt strange doing something I had only Imagined in my head, dreaming about it was one thing, but it actually happened was a whole new game. I had ‘cuddled’ with a man before, but this felt..Different. I was immensely enjoying having Josh holding me, giving me the attention I craved from him so deeply. He had never done something so bold. Meanwhile while I was lost in thought about how ‘dreamy’ Josh was, my arm was in the process of falling asleep, which meant I was gonna have to move, potentially risking him letting me go sooner than i’d like. Fuck it.
I move my arm and slowly open my eyes to look over at him, to see if he had noticed, only to see he’s looking straight back at me, giving me a soft smile filling my body with warmth and butterflies. “Hi” I let out softly, smiling back at him.
“Hey.” he whispered back grabbing my hand, “How are you feeling?”
“Sleepy, but fine. How are you?” I asked and he let out a soft hum in reply. “Do you have to do anything today?”
“I have rehearsal to go to today but you could come with me if you’d like, and afterward we can go get something to eat. Hows that sound?” It seemed as if today was going to be filled with new things. I was shocked he invited me to rehearsal, in all our time spent together he had never invited me to his practice sessions.
“Oh wow yeah, that sounds great!” I smiled, the warmth between our bodies radiating, I reached to grab hold his hand and his finger easily slid between my own. “I like this. Maybe you should stay the night more often.” I whisper, earning a chuckle from him.
“I think so too.” he whispers right back bringing my head down to his neck while he rubs his hand up and down my back slowly. I could get used to this.
7 Behind-The-Scenes Secrets About the New Beauty and the Beast Ballroom Scene
Courtesy of choreographer Anthony Van Laast.

For the new live-action adaptation of Beauty and the Beast, Disney turned to legendary choreographer Anthony Van Laast, whose resume includes everything Mamma Mia (stage and film) to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Part 1. To get Emma Watson and Dan Stevens ready for their iconic ballroom scene as Belle and Beast, Van Laast had them learn the basics of waltz. To his surprise, Van Laast also had to choreograph the movements for “Be Our Guest,” even though it was mostly CGI. The process, which included inspiration from real-life dancers, a storyboard artist, and motion capture, took about six months. “I’ve seen so many animated films [with people dancing] and never really thought about it, but of course they must have used a choreographer and I thought, Christ, I’m the choreographer of this iconic piece in Beauty and the Beast,” Van Laast said in a recent phone call from England. “This was the one thing that caused me more sleepless nights than anything… I think when you see the film, you’ll understand the complexity of the number. There are knives in the air, there’s food coming and going.”

Here, Van Laast reveals the intricacies of putting together a ballroom scene, especially when someone’s toes are on the line.

1. Dan had to practice dancing in platform shoes. “For the big ballroom scene, it was absolutely him, [but] they had to have the height difference for when they danced. She had to be a lot smaller than him. He had to wear platform shoes that were quite difficult to dance in. First he learned how to waltz, then he had to learn the routine, then he had to learn how to do the routine in platform shoes, then he had to dance with Emma in those platform shoes.”

2. Emma rehearsed with 1 lb weights on each of her wrists to help her with her posture for the waltz. “[This was] so she would hold her arms in a certain way. She got used through rehearsal to moving with a big skirt, and she never complained about it.”

3. Dan could have broken Emma’s toes making the movie. “It was a matter of posture and how you hold your back. The big thing for Dan was, because he had these great big clodhoppers on his feet, not to tread on Emma’s feet… I know that as far as she was concerned, she was always a little fearsome of her feet trodden on, and he was a little fearsome of treading on her feet. It was a very complicated routine.”

4. Dan had extra training because of the awkward Beast postures. Every morning at 6:30 a.m., “someone would come and do exercises and yoga with him, just to keep his body free.” Emma, on the other hand, was already “really fit” because she already does yoga. “She’s a very good mover.”

5. Technicians and camera crew clapped and congratulated Emma and Dan when scene wrapped. “[This also happened] at the read through, which was in front of hundreds of people. Emma just jumped up. Everyone was thrilled.”

6. The lift is all about Emma. “It’s all about how the woman holds her body that enables the man to lift her. It was about working with Emma, teaching her how to hold herself so she was ‘liftable.’ The hardest thing is being put down and moving in the right direction after being put down.”

7. A Pharrell classic was the source of celebration during filming. “When we finished shooting the last dance [scene] in the film, someone put on ‘Happy’ and the cast and all the crew had a party.”

Morning Glory pt. 1 - The Maze Runner - Thomas au

Description: Based off the original story of The Maze Runner, where Y/N has been around a long time and she and Thomas might be the key out of here.
Relationship: Thomas x Reader - THE MAZE RUNNER

Title:  Who’s Thomas?

Word count: 1825

A/N: Somewhere, a long time ago, I started out with a Thomas one shot that ended up in my own version of The Maze Runner. Snips and bits are taken from the original story (as are the characters) but with a twist of my own.
There will be a lot of smut in here.


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Together (Pidgance Month Day 2)

Read it on AO3!

“So, does everyone have a companion for the banquet tomorrow?”

Pidge mentally kicked herself as Allura spoke, looking at each Paladin in turn.  Despite the princess’s warnings that the Evonrians would only speak to others in pairs, she hadn’t managed to find a date.  No, a companion, she corrected herself.  It’s not really a date.  Truthfully, she hadn’t had a clue who to ask, but she couldn’t just skip the banquet – all the Paladins were expected to attend.

Hunk spoke up, snapping Pidge out of her reverie.  “Shay agreed to accompany me.”  Was it Pidge’s imagination, or did a hint of a blush color his cheeks?

Shiro was the next to respond.  “Matt will be meeting us there to accompany me.”

Pidge whistled.  “Nice going!”  She took a silent vow that her brother would never hear the end of her teasing.

The room fell silent, and after an awkward pause, Allura cleared her threat.  “What about you, Keith?”

Keith stood, shuffling his feet.  “Oh.  Well, I didn’t want to ask like this, but I was hoping maybe… that maybe you’d want to be my companion?”

Allura’s eyes widened briefly, then she smiled.  “I would love to.”

“Well, there goes my plan,” Lance grumbled.

Pidge glowered at him.  “You can’t try and tell me there aren’t loads of alien girls just falling over themselves to go with you.”

Lance rubbed his neck awkwardly.  “Well, yeah, but I… ah… I don’t really have ways of contacting any of them.”

Allura sighed.  “You had nearly a whole phoeb to find a companion!  How do you expect this to work?”  She let out an exasperated huff.  “Did anyone else wait until the last minute to ask someone?”

Pidge shrugged uncomfortably.  “There really wasn’t anyone I could ask, since the Evonrians don’t count robots as people.”

“Why don’t you two just go together?” Keith suggested drily.  “That would solve both problems.”

Pidge opened her mouth and found that she had no response.  Lance, for his part, began to complain, but Allura cut him off.  “I think that sounds perfect!  So it’s settled: I will be Keith’s companion, Shay will be Hunk’s, Matt will accompany Shiro, and Lance and Pidge will accompany each other.”  She turned and whisked away from the breakfast table, leaving the Paladins in stunned silence.

As the Castle approached Evonra, Allura lectured the Paladins and their companions.  If she was nervous, she gave no sign beyond her pacing and endless reminders.  “Remember, no matter how difficult it is, you must not let go of your companion’s hand.  Remain together at all times, and defer to each other in everything, the way Evonrians do.  When dinner is served–”

“Allura.”  Keith gently cut her off, hesitantly taking her left hand in his right.  “We’ve been over this at least five times.”

“You’re right.  I’m sorry.”

“Landing on Evonra in approximately… ah… seven ticks,” Coran warned, and everyone braced for landing.  “Six… five… four…”

Pidge walked over to join Lance, unable to meet his gaze.  They had avoided each other the whole afternoon, and several times, she had caught him glaring daggers at Keith.  Now, though, he seemed resigned to his fate, taking her right hand as soon as she was near enough and managing an encouraging smile.  “You ready for this?”

Pidge’s heart thudded loudly, and she felt certain she was gripping his hand much too tightly, though she couldn’t seem to loosen her hold.  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Hey.”  At Lance’s tone, she turned to look him in the eyes and was startled by how soft his expression was, despite the mischievous smile that played around his lips.  “Since we’re stuck together anyway, let’s try and have some fun tonight, okay?”

Pidge felt a small smile creeping across her face in spite of herself.  “Okay.”

“Announcing the Paladins of Voltron and their Beloveds!”

Beloveds?” Lance demanded in a whisper.

Allura twisted to answer him over her shoulder.  “That’s how the Evonrians refer to their companions.  One’s companion is the person they feel closest to.”

Lance turned bright red, and Pidge was certain she looked no better.  “You could have told us that before!” he complained.

Shush,” Keith whispered.  The doors of the grand ballroom swung open, and Keith and Allura entered, followed by Pidge and Lance, with Hunk and Shay behind them and Matt and Shiro bringing up the rear.  The packed room burst into applause in the Evonrian way, stamping their feet rather than clapping their hands.  Tables were scattered around the edges of the room, with an open floor in the middle, and Pidge noticed that the chairs were each wide enough to seat two people comfortably.

As the Paladins entered the crowd, they were immediately swarmed.  Aliens of all races had been invited, but the majority of the guests were Evonrians, easily distinguished by their many arms.  On one side of each Evonrian, innumerable short, noodly arms waved and flailed, while to their other side, every tiny hand grasped the corresponding hand of a different Evonrian.  They were some of the strangest-looking people Pidge had ever encountered.

A pair of Evonrians in resplendent blue robes approached Pidge and Lance.  “Why are there only eight of you?” the one on the left inquired.  “Are there not five Paladins?”

“There are,” Pidge assured him quickly.  “Lance and I are both Paladins, we just came together rather than finding other comp– that is, Beloveds.”

“I see,” said the Evonrian on the right with a smile.  “Surely you must be the strongest of all the Paladins, in that case.”

“Um…”  Pidge wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“We’re not, like, together together,” Lance corrected, a little too quickly for Pidge’s liking.  The two Evonrians grimaced, turning and walking away without another word.

“That might not have been the wisest thing to say,” Pidge said drily.  “It looks like, for tonight at least, we have to act like we really are together together.”

A pair of voices rang out through the room in unison.  “Attention!  Dinner will be served shortly!  Please be seated!”

Pidge and Lance made their way through the crowd to claim a seat at one of the many small, square tables.  Each table had one double chair per side, providing seats for a total of eight guests.  Pidge and Lance ended up with a pair of Evonrians to their right, two somewhat awkward-looking, vaguely birdlike creatures across from them, and Keith and Allura to their left.

As soon as everyone was seated, Evonrian waiters emerged from doors all along the opposite end of the room from where the Paladins had entered, each pair carrying an enormous serving platter.  As they dispersed throughout the room, quiet music began to play from hidden speakers, and a low murmur of conversation began to fill the air.

The Evonrians at Pidge’s table broke the awkward silence that had hung over the four pairs.  “So, tell us about your Beloveds,” said one with greenish hair and huge eyes.

“Yes, how did your connections come to be?” asked the other, a thin Evonrian man with a long nose.

One of the birdlike aliens let out a long squawk, cleared her threat, and tried again.  “Krawwik and I have known each other all our lives.”

“Brekk and I were destined to be together from the moment we were hatched,” Krawwik agreed.

The Evonrians nodded as one.  “And what of you, Paladins?” Long Nose inquired.

Pidge and Lance exchanged an uncomfortable look, unsure how to respond.  Meanwhile, Allura leaned her head against Keith’s shoulder.  “When Keith and I first met, he wasn’t very trusting, but he gradually has opened up to me, and we have grown quite close.”

Keith nodded, resting his head on top of hers.  “I still can’t believe that out of everyone Allura could have chosen, she fell for me.”

Seeming satisfied, the Evonrians turned their attention to Pidge and Lance.  “What about the Green and Blue Paladins?” Huge Eyes pestered, and it seemed almost like a challenge to Pidge.

Fortunately, they were interrupted by the arrival of food.  A pair of Evonrian waiters set their enormous platter on the table, lifting the cover to reveal… berries.  Heaps of berries of every color and shape imaginable, and absolutely nothing else.  Eight large, scoop-like spoons with short handles ringed the platter.  The Evonrians each grabbed a scoop and began to alternate between feeding themselves and each other.

Lance made an alarmed, strangled noise.  “How are we supposed to do that?” he asked anxiously.

Pidge hummed thoughtfully.  “It’s like that time when Allura cuffed us all together to eat.  What did we do then?”

Lance gave her a blank look.  “Didn’t we start a food fight?”

Pidge smirked. “I seem to recall that we did.”

Lance’s eyes widened.  “I see where you’re going with this…”

As one, Pidge and Lance seized spoons, filled them with heaping scoops of berries, and flung their tasty projectiles across the table, where they splattered across the stunned faces of the Evonrians.  Allura gaped at them, a horrified expression on her face.  “What did you just do?!” Keith exclaimed, his voice drenched with shock.

After a very pregnant pause, Huge Eyes spoke.  “You challenge us to food combat?”

“Um… we challenge everyone to food combat!” Pidge declared, hoping this wouldn’t end up getting her thrown in prison or worse.

“Every pair for themselves!” Lance agreed.

“Then let us begin!”  Quicker than a blink, Long Nose began hurling berries at Pidge and Lance, his many tiny arms a blur.  She stood, tugging Lance over to hide behind Keith and Allura, who soon joined the fray.  Within minutes, the food combat became an all-out food war, all thoughts of eating abandoned as berries flew through the air, staining everyone’s fancy clothes, not to mention the walls, floor, and ceiling.

Pidge and Lance stood in the midst of it all, laughing hysterically at the chaos they had caused, their hands still clasped together.  Grinning, Lance squeezed Pidge’s hand.  “This turned out more fun than I was expecting.”

Pidge giggled.  “Who would have thought the uptight Evonrians would get so into a food fight?”

Lance shrugged.  “And who would have thought my Beloved would be the one to start it?”

Pidge froze.  “Am I?”

“Are you what?”

“Your Beloved.”

“According to the Evonrians, yes!”  Lance started to laugh, but stopped when he saw the look on her face.  His expression turned thoughtful.  “Yeah, I think you are.”

That night, the Paladins and their Beloveds returned to the Castle completely worn out but in a good humor.  Rather than dispersing to their rooms, they gathered in the lounge, separating to collapse on the sofas.  Only Pidge and Lance remained connected, and Hunk noticed.  “You two realize you can let go now, right?”

Pidge laughed.  “Of course,” she replied, “but who says we want to?”

The Meme And His Tutor

Part 34: The Third Date

Co-written with @tragicshadows

Recommended Song: Trust Me (BM & Somin Version) by KARD

|All Chapters|Masterlist|


You never imagined it would be a day of unexpected truths.

Genre: Fluff, comedy

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader (Y/N)


Word Count: 6904

Length: 34/?

Originally posted by samwol

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Across the Divide

TITLE: Across The Divide

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Nineteen

AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki sneaking out of the palace as a youth to see the city and countryside, while out one day, he accidentally gets in trouble for something, but a young girl deals with the situation, allowing him to be left alone and his true identity be kept secret. She is a poor girl who is only in the city to sell goods with her father, so she does not realise it is Loki, even though she sees his face. They form a friendship as she shows him around the city, and tells him the date she comes to the city every month for a particular market.

RATING: Teen and Up

Odin and Frigga leant forward at Loki’s words and the look of confirmation on the magistrate’s face. “She is a minor,” Odin reminded him.

“Allfather, the agreement is for when she becomes of age, I have no interest in breaking any laws.” the man bowed. Odin looked less than impressed but nodded.

“Father!” Odin looked at Loki sadly, causing Loki to realise he father would not intervene, so he walked closer his father so that the man could not hear their words. “He is closer to mother’s age than hers.”

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